SUFFERING IN SUFFOLK IN SEPTEMBER SUNSHINE

Having experienced one of the worst summers in living memory, weather wise, there was some degree of optimism when the idea of cycling in Suffolk in September was suggested. After all, the law of averages would suggest that we were due an Indian summer. "Why Suffolk ?" someone asked. My reply, "Because it's flat isn't it?" We, Richard, Malcolm and I, were to meet in Walton on Thames at Richard's flat where we would then drive to Ipswich the following day with our bikes in and onthe back of, Richard's all singing, all dancing electric BMW. The plan did not get off to a good start....the car had a nail in one of the tyres and had a slow puncture. So a quick visit to a well known tyre fitting emporium confirmed this but the aforementioned place did not have one in stock but did order one that they assured us, would be there by 5 pm that afternoon. Undeterred by the slight spanner in our works, Richard and I set off on our bikes to rendezvous with Malcolm who was cycling the 90km from his home in Lancing to Walton. The designated meeting place was the beer garden of the King's Head in Guildford, a 30 km ride for us. Our route took us south west out of Walton and along the banks of the River Wey and past the Brooklands Museum, the birthplace of British motor sport and avaiation.

We arrived at the pre arranged rendezvous point in good time and were able to track Tufty's (Malcolm is known as Tufty on the basis that he once worked for ROSPA) progress on a live location phone app. He wasn't too far away so we ordered food and drink watching him get closer and closer.... and then he was getting further and further away and movng completeley in the opposite direction? Apparently there are more than one Kings Heads in Guildford. Eventually he arrived, slated his thirst with a couple of Cruzcampos before we all retraced our route back to Walton on Thames.

We were back in plenty of time to take the car back to have it's tyre replaced by a very efficient couple of tyre fitters who wouldn't have looked out of place in the infamous banjo playing scene in Deliverance but fair play, they certainly delivered on what they had earlier promised, so a big shout out to Kwikfit! The Indian summer dutifully arrived on Friday morning and the sun shone all the way down the M25 and the A12 and we eventually found the right Premier Inn after some dodgy navigating on Richard's part.

Bikes unloaded and after a lot of faffing by Richard we set off to Woodbridge, a picturesque Suffolk town on the River Deben and famous for it's proximity to the Saxon site of Sutton Hoo. Our journey took us through Ipswich city centre and across Rushmore Common before we found a pub for a late lunch.

Suitably replete, we headed onto Woodbridge where we pottered around the streeets before we found another watering hole where we sat and basked in the glorious sunshine before heading back to Ipswich and our Premier Inn right across from Fox's Marina on the River Orwell. Pre dinner drinks was followed by a light supper and bed in preparation for the long ride planned for Saturday.

The night was not as restful for some as for others. Richard's snoring kept Malcolm awake for most of the night, so he claims, and as someone who can bear witness to his sawing logs both on the Irish and Isle of Man trips, I was inclined to believe and sympathise with Malcolm.

With the sun breaking through the morning mist that hung over the estuary, we left the Premier Inn and followed the River Orwell south east towards Shotley Gate where we caught the small passenger ferry that runs between Shotley Marina, Harwich and Felixstowe. We disembarked at Harwich with the bikes being skillfully loaded and unloaded by the Ferry's skipper. I bet he regrets the invention of ebikes!

The ferry journey took about 10 minutes to cross the Stour estuary with views of the cranes in Harwich and Felixstowe to the south and east. Once safely on terra firma and a coffee stop under our belt, we wound our way through the old streets of Harwich and headed along the seafront to view the Dovercort Light houses.

The lighthouses, commissioned by Trinity House in 1862 and completed in 1863,served to guide ships towards Harwich harbour (some 1.5km to the north)their different heights enabling the two lights to be aligned on approach. At this point it appeared that our Indian summer was about to end with a large black rain cloud that seemed to follow us as we cycled towards Maningtree. By the time we reached Bradfield we were thirsty so stopped in the aptly named The Strangers Home Pub and sat in the garden in glorious sunshine and sipped our halves of shandy! After several halves we cruised along to Alton Water, Suffolks largest man made reservoir and a watersports centre. It took 13 years to complete and opened in 1987.

THe tracks around the reservoir were firm so suited our off road friend with his newly acquired mountain bike. Newly aquired as a result of the theft of his old bike and the insurance company coughing up! We passed through the village of Tattingstone, famed for it's gruesome Suitcase murder in 1967 when the remains of murder victim Bernard Oliver, a boy of sixteen or seventeen, were found in two suitcases in a field in Tattingstone on 16 January 1967, 10 days after his family reported him missing. Nobody was ever charged, though two now-deceased doctors were considered prime suspects. A short stretch on a busy A road and we were back on the lanes and finally through Stoke Park and back to our base where we had a well earned pint in a bar on the marina and the bonus of meeting up with my nephew and his family. Sleep came easier that night for Malcolm, partly as a result of the miles we had covered but mostly because of the ear plugs and the anesthestic effect of the drink!

Sunday proved to be an eventful day: a little rain, lots of sun, some Suffolk cider and a lot of route changing and naigational errors. Our circular ride would retrace the previous days ride to Alton Water and then head to the Dedham Vale National Landscape to the south west of Ipswich before looping north via Hadleigh and then back to Ipswich. A mere 63km.

The day started a little overcast which would have suited the runners taking part in the Ipswich Half Marathon which was due to start at 0930 which meant that some of the roads around us wre going to be closed so it encouraged us to have an early breakfast and get under way before the runners. The first few km were on a main road which fortuneately was quiet and once we turned off and headed for Tattingstone and the bridge across Alton Water we were back on the lanes of Suffolk and heading for East Bergholt. It was at this point there was a discussion about which way to go and so persuasive was Richard, that we followed his route towards the RSPB Centre at Flatford Mill. He was convinced that it was a shorter route than the one originally planned. So down the lane we rode and over the bridge to a track heading off through some fields via a very awkward kissing gate which we struggled to get through. This is the way, Richard insisted and like sheep Malcolm and I followed, muttering under our breaths loudly enough so RT could sense our disgruntlement. After a few hundred yards we reached a ravine the size of the Rift Valley with a herd of angry looking cows on the other side with a pile of randomly strewn logs puporting to be a bridge. The following video tells what happened next. WARNING - The video contains some swearing

We retraced our steps and returned from whence we had come, as we crossed over the busy A12,and presumably because Malcolm and I had dissed his route choice, Richard rather tetchily suggeted that perhaps we would prefer to cycle down the middle lane of the M11 and call into the Happy Eater for a coffee! He soon came round to our way of thinking when we suggested it was getting near lunch time and that there was a nice little pub in Polstead called the Cock Inn. But to reach it we had to endure yet more rutted tracks across yet more fields, which Malcolm kindly captured on video.

By the time we reached the Cock Inn we were ready for some Suffolk cider and were not disappointed by the setting, the dry crisp cider and the platter of bread, cheeses, pickles and meats. What could be finer than a Sunday lunch sat in a pub garden in warm sunshine?

The return to Ipswich was a lovely ride, quiet lanes to Hadleigh and then the disused railway line for a few kms and then more quiet lanes back to Ipswich. So with the cycling done and dusted, no punctures or mechanical failures and only a little bit of gentle banter there was nothing more to do other than watch the football on our phones, finish off what drink we had left, eat supper and head to bed.... all of which managed to do by 9 pm! Lessons learned from this trip.... Suffolk is not flat, Single rooms are a must and the sun always shines in September....

Ten days of summer cycling - Ireland and back.

It was after we got back from the Isle of Man that I suggested to the others that if they had any time in July, I fancied going back to Ireland to do some cycling. I had been there many times before when I was working and had also visited for short breaks at various times of the year. Einar had run out of holidays, Malcolm would have only just returned from a spell in the Arctic so rightly, was reluctant to miss his 20th Wedding Anniversary and the Fairfield Flyer, Colin, was in Turkey. Richard said that he had a few days to spare to the plan was hatched for the two of us to enjoy freewheeling the byways and lanes of south east Ireland in the July sunshine. This vision proved to be a little far from the truth! >