Delightful, fast, rural tailwind cycling on a grey day. It was drizzly as we left Cambridge. In a nod to the city’s role in bioscience research, the cycle path is adorned with a representation of the sequence of the gene BRCA2, which is linked to breast cancer, and Great Shelford.
From the top of the hill on the Cambridge-Essex border, it’s said, you can see two counties on a clear day. But it was drizzling so we couldn’t. Still, we cycled by one of Britain’s most curious cricket grounds, in the village of Langley: a road runs straight across the middle of the pitch, from roughly deep point to fine leg. There’s also a telegraph pole at deep third man. It’s probably more use than I ever was in the field.
In one of Essex’s pretty little villages we saw this horse and trailer. Careful, I said to Nigel. It could be a trap.
Staying at home tonight. Feels strange to have arrived in London not by train, but by cycling down from Cape Wrath via Ayr, Stockport and Epping Forest. Striking out towards Dover tomorrow. Might sneak my passport with me just in case.
Miles today: 70
Miles since Cape Wrath: 965