Wild Wiltshire

 

Going wild in Wiltshire

A Spring outing for the Fairclough Flyers had been in the planning since the dark days of December.  Getting a suitable date for all participants proved a little a trickier than finding a suitable venue. Richard & Einar were heading to Seville which left Malcolm and I to head to  Marlborough in Wiltshire. We had selected Marlborough as our base due to the variety of rides in the area and also that it was about a 2 hour drive for both us to get to. And so we duly met in the car park of the Premier Inn on Monday 13th April, Malcolm with his new bike (my old R&M Supercharger 2) and me with my R&M Superdelite 5. Following our Fat Lads at the Back Tour in France, which saw Malcolm's Raleigh disintegrate, we were  were hoping for 3 days of stress free cycling!

A short hop down the road into the centre of Marlborough and we found ourselves outside the Castle & Ball Hotel on the High Street.  A suitable spot for some route planning and also to watch the world go by. Marlborough is an attractive old market town on the edge of the Savernake Forest that boasts one of the widest high streets in the UK.  It is also home to Marlborough College, an independent school whose former pupils include Kate Middleton, Jack Whitehall, Princess Eugenie and Ghislaine Maxwell! 

Our plan was to do a circular ride of about 50km the following day - the weather forecast looked promising and so after a hearty Premier Inn breakfast we faffed in the carpark and prepared for our ride. Only a slight health problem reared it's ugly head - I had developed a chest infection which was restricting my breathing and energy levels, so what started with every intention of being a long day in the saddle had to be curtailed at the Red Lion in Avebury for a more direct route back.

Once we had managed to find our way out of Malborough after several wrong turns, we climbed north onto the top of the sweeping Marlborough Downs following NCR 403 witnessing several race horses being put through their paces on the gallops. We cycled along the Herepath or Green Street, an ancient military road which once connected Bath and Marlborough, before descending into Avebury and its stone circles but more important for us, the Red Lion.

Herepath or Green Street

After much deliberation, a couple of orange juices and lemonade for me and a couple of Thatcher's Gold for Malcolm, we made the decision to head back to Marlborough via the Mercian Way so rather than continue to the west, we turned south and crossed the A4 and then turning eastwards to Lockeridge and Manton before stopping for some more refreshments in our old haunt the Castle & Ball Hotel, having completed just 28km in the day with 350m of height climbed!

Can't beat a Greggs!

At this stage I realised that I needed drugs! So after a very helpful conversation with one of the hotel staff I managed to get a telephone call back appointment with a Doctor in the local Health Centre. This was done in the comfort of our penthouse suite in the Premier Inn. I had a long consultation after which it was deemed  that I needed antibiotics and that I could pick these up from Boots in the morning, after one of her colleagues had seen me in the surgery. I was promptly seen the following morning and the infection was confirmed, so off to Boots we trotted, via Greggs for breakfast, to collect the prescription. Alas, the Boots in Llantwit Major had been sent the script which wasn't a great deal of use to me but a swift phone call to the LM branch and the Marlborough branch was able to issue the drugs!  So, the purpose of recounting this rather boring story is to highlight the very efficient and first class service that I received from the Kennet and Avon Medical Practice (KAMP) and in particular Dr Mary Woodward and the paramedic Amy - NHS at its finest.

During that evening we kept one eye on the weather for the following day and decided that in view of the rain prediction, we needed to be back under shelter by around 2 pm so we opted for a trip that took us through the Savernake Forest towards Hungerford before heading back to Marlborough along the Wiltshire Cycleway, a steady 2 hour ride of 33kms.

The first and brief section of our route took us onto the Chisledon to Marlborough old railway track now designated for walkers and cyclists. A short dash along the A4 and a right turn found us on the edge of the Savernake Forest and on a gravel road that runs in a straight line through this ancient woodland for 6kms. The Savernake forest covers 4500 acres and is privately owned by the Marquess of Ailesbury and his son the Earl of Cardigan and its private status is maintained by closing the forest to the public on one day each year. Fortunately for us it was open so we were able to enjoy the undulating ride with either side of our track  displaying swathes of bluebells. The Forest is also home to a number of ancient oak trees, so we just had to get a photo by the aptly named Big Belly Oak, with a little help form AI.

Did you know it's 1100 years old?

At Great Bedwyn NCR 403 connects with NCR 4 which we followed for a short while before heading north through Chisbury before seeking light refreshments in Ramsbury, home to Ramsbury Ales, at the Bell on the Square, where we sat outside in glorious sunshine trying to figure out where and when the rain was going to hit us.

The Bell on the Square, Ramsbury

The route back to Marlborough followed the River Kennet and the Wiltshire Cycle way and just as we approached the outskirts of our destination, it started to rain so we took shelter.... in the warmth of the bar at the Castle and Ball Hotel, where the bar staff were now on first name terms with us. Another taxing days ride (for me at least) but a better nights rest was to come, probably the drugs kicking in.

Our third day cycling was to be an out and back ride - Malcolm was desperate to try his R&M Supercharger II  on a canal tow path and also to see a White Horse?! Greggs in town seemed to be the best place to start the day off but when we arrived we were faced with the devastating news that it was closed until further notice. So we did as any proven adventurers would do, we sought an alternative which in this case proved to be an expensive one - Polly's Tea Rooms for a bacon roll, a sausage roll and a pot of tea for two.  The bill £23.60! It would have been cheaper to have had the unlimited breakfast in the Premier Inn for £22.

An expensive alternative breakfast

The planned route was to head west out of the town and head for Devizes on NCR 45.  We climbed steadily into a head wind so progress was slow even with our power assistance up to a gap between Knap  Hill and Walkers hill on the Pewsey Downs .  The views across the landscape were stunning in the sunshine, yellow fields of rape seed contrasting with the fertile green of pastureland. 

View from the top

After a fast descent we turned off the NC45 Mercian way and headed west towards Devizes.  At this point the Alton Barnes White Horse came into view to the north. Carved into the chalk escarpment it was cut by the request of someone called Robert Pile in 1812. We obviously had to pose for photographs.

We weaved our way through the streets of Devizes, passing the Wadsworth Brewery without stopping and made our destination along the tow path of the Kennet and Avon Canal to the impressive Caen Hill Flight of locks.

The 29 locks rise or fall, depending on which way you are going, 237 feet over 2 miles.  To get a boat up or down, if the locks are in your favour will take you the best part of a day.  We decided to stay at the top and find a suitable place to take liquid refreshment in celebration of Malcolm achieving 2 of his day's goals - tow path and horse ticked off.

The canal side garden of the Black Horse seemed a suitable venue to spend an hour or so, watching the narrow boats blunder their way in and out of the nearby lock - canal boating is definitely a contact sport!

Refreshed and recharged (us not the bikes) we retraced our route and wheezed our way to the top of the Pewsey Downs before the 10km descent back into Marlborough.

We couldn't end our few days of going wild in Wiltshire without a final visit to our favoured haunt, the Castle and Ball for a final couple of OJ's. My thanks to Malcolm for ensuring I remained in the land of the living during our little adventure and putting up with the coughing and spluttering and also to Natalie for her concern and supply of biscuits! The next meeting of the FFCC is scheduled to be in Walton over the May Bank Holiday weekend. On one of our outings, you never know, we may get a full contingent!

Made it!

Riese and Muller do Dartmouth

 The October meeting of the Fairclough Flyer's Cycling Club was centred on Dartmouth and hosted by the club's latest honorary member, Mac.  It is fair to say that Mac's expertise lies with nautical matters and boats of all shapes and sizes,  although he does have 2 motorbikes and fortunately for us, access to a 2 bedroomed flat with spectacular views over river Dart and his pad above it!

I arrived in Dartmouth late Thursday afternoon after a windy drive down the M5 and enjoyed a convivial evening with Mac in the Seven Stars pub, a short stroll from his flat. An added bonus to the weekend was the fact that our cycling get together would coincide with the annual Dartmouth Food and Drink Festival. Dartmouth is also home to the Britannia Royal Naval College which overlooks the town and the busy estuary with its's constant marine traffic.

Leaving London on time!

As Einar and Richard  were making their way from London,  I used the morning to take a short ride to Brixham whilst Mac did some work, so boarded the Lower ferry in Bayards Cove which took me across to Kingswear on the other side of the estuary.  

Dartmouth to Brixham return

Lower Ferry

Golden Hind Museum

I'd forgotten just how hilly Devon is, so was surprised that my batteries were taking a real hammering and as a result I shortened my intended route.  Shortly after I arrived back in Dartmouth Richard and Einar arrived so we spent the usual amount of time faffing with the bikes preparing them for a short trip to Sainsbury's (other supermarkets are available) to buy essential supplies. 

With the supplies secured it was time to sample the local delights at the Food & Drink Festival and so, after a rapid descent past the Naval College, we were quaffing local cider from one of the many outlets in the town centre. A quiet evening in sitting round the table, drinking in the view followed by a sumptuous banquet of Chinese food, finished off the day and ensured that most of us slept soundly that night.

Cider or lager?

Room with a view

Reminiscing

Well rested and ready to take on the hills of the South Hams, the plan was to cycle a loop of about 40km from Dartmouth to Totnes via Stoke Gabriel and meet Mac for lunch in the Malster's Arms in Tuckenhay, the pub once owned by celebrity TV chef, Keith Floyd.

The planned route was slightly more demanding than first thought!  Quiet country lanes quickly became rough muddy tracks with very steep rocky descents, which Richard took with consummate ease, Einar slightly more cautiously and myself,  grateful that I didn't fall off - but this would change later in the day.

A warning sign

Bottoming out

Mud glorious mud

We reached Totnes and breathed a sigh of relief. The section to Tuckenhay took us down the Dart Valley Cycleway, a beautiful track that runs parallel to and high above the river. It was on a steep uphill section that I came a cropper!  A tricky slalom manoeuvre through a staggered gate resulted in me taking a hefty fall - thankfully no witnesses to it except the grunting through the helmet intercom system, which the others could hear, and thankfully nothing broken. Lesson learned..... after composing myself and allowing some walkers to continue their journey we posed for a photograph before continuing to meet Mac for lunch.

After the fall

Raising a glass to Keith

After a glance at the expensive menu we settled for a pint before Mac headed back to Dartmouth on his BMW motorbike whilst we had yet more steep hills and brake testing descents to negotiate before we made it back via Sainsburys for yet more supplies. An eventful day to say the least with 42km covered with 1300 metres of climbing so another quiet evening was called for in front of the TV with pizza, banter and a glass or two of red wine in honour of Mr Floyd.

With the clocks going back an hour Sunday seemed to go on forever. Another ride was planned only this time without the off road bits. Dartmouth to Torcross returning via Slapton causeway.

The weather was kind to us once again but the hills didn't get any smaller or easier but the views over the sea were stunning.  We posed for photographs at Torcross and Slapton before heading back to Dartmouth for a quick visit to Dartmouth Castle.

View from the top

Torcross Tank Memorial

Slapton Sands

The Sherman tank in Torcross serves as a memorial to the Allied soldiers who were killed during Operation Tiger, the exercises which formed part of the build up to the D Day landings, which ended up in a catastrophic loss of life.  Over 1400 men lost their lives that day in April 1944 as a result of friendly fire and the arrival of German U boats. The tank was raised from the sea bed in 1984 largely due to the efforts of local man Ken Small.

With the bikes securely back in the garage and the afternoon ahead, we headed up river on Mac's boat to the Ferry Boat Inn at Dittisham taking  in the views of Agatha Christies house peeping out of the steep sided wooded bank and hearing the hooting of the steam train of the Dart Valley railway heading to Kingswear.  

The FBI

On the way back

Unfortunately we were too late for lunch in the FBI, not a table to be had, so we had to settle for some Old Rosie and some peanuts.  We were treated to views of basking seals on a pontoon as we headed back down river and it seemed fitting that following our nautical experience, we sought liquid refreshment in the Dartmouth Yacht Club. This was followed by yet more refreshment at Paddy's flat.  Paddy is Mac's Mum who is the most delightful, generous and warmest person you could ever hope to meet. She grew up in Dartmouth where her father was the town's GP.   So with weekend nearly over we weaved our way back through the narrow streets to the flat and prepared ourselves for an early Monday morning departure to get Mac to Heathrow for a lunchtime flight to Barcelona.

Another great, action packed weekend, wonderfully hosted by Mac & Paddy....thanks!

The Fat Lads Tour at the back Tour - August 2025

 

A return to France, this time with Malcolm,  gave me a great opportunity to put my new bike through it's paces and also to spend some time with my pal of many years. I had met Malcolm in a pub, strangely enough, on the eve as he was about to start work for me as an activities instructor. Some 40 years later and many shared experiences, including a kayak expedition in Finland, acting as a witness at his wedding to Natalie, being Godfather to his eldest son, Charlie and just to lighten the mood, a gruesome recovery of a drowned fisherman from the Bristol Channel at 4 0'c;ock in the morning in June 1991,  we remain friends. We see each other once or twice a year for a catch up which usually involves some sort of activity. 

So it was that we gathered in Lancing, packed our bikes and very kindly got dropped off at Newhaven by Natalie ready to catch the ferry to Dieppe.  A collection of cyclists joined the queue including another Riese & Muller bike! We were first to embark so were able to get a comfortable seat with a view and close to the bar.

First in the queue

The Seven Sisters

Whose round is it ?

Wildlife photographer of the year captures a Gannet

Four hours later we arrived in Dieppe and headed for our hotel, and as requested, had been allocated a room on the ground floor. The only problem was that it appeared to have one double bed. Over the years I have shared tents with Malc but never a bed and so I returned to reception to explain our dilemma- without hesitation the receptionist, who wouldn't have looked out of place as a nightclub bouncer, brushed passed us and headed straight to a cupboard which she duly opened and pulled down a single bed with an hysterical cry of "VOILA!" That night saw us and the two bikes and our luggage crammed into our small room!

Malc's cupboard with nightcap ready

DIEPPE TO FORGES LES EAUX

Our first day of cycling was to be a gentle introduction  - a relatively short hop of 59kms down the Avenue Verte which runs along the old railway line all the way to Paris.  Our start to the day was somewhat hampered by the torrential rain that started early in the morning so we decided to delay by having a late breakfast followed by a coffee.  We found a suitable cafe which was sheltered but did seem to attract a varied and eclectic clientelle - ourselves included.

Waiting for the rain to stop

Once the sun did appear we headed out of town and followed our route along the Avenue Verte along the Bethune valley passing fields of cows, small villages and an occasional Chateau.

St Aubin Le Cauf

Lunch stop waiting to see if puncture had held

Chateau de Mesnieres

About 2 kms after passing a bike repair station at the side of the track, the first of our mishaps occurred, when I say OUR mishaps, read MALC's mishaps.  A rear wheel puncture on any bike can be a pain but doubly so with an electric bike with the motor in the rear wheel. Malcolm limped back to the bike repair station where we made use of the electric pump to reinflate his tyre in the hope that the self sealing "slime" that  had been put into the inner tube would do its job and seal the hole. And miracle of miracles....it did .... so we had lunch. On closer inspection of the tyres on Malcolm's well maintained Raleigh, there was virtually no tread whatsoever on both tyres - he may as well have been riding on slicks!

Repair time

So onward we trundled, a little later than anticipated but still time to take on board some liquid refreshment in Neufchatel en Bray in a very busy cafe where we witnessed an oriental man smoking what could only be described as a piece of garden cane with a bowl on the end of it billowing smoke from what looked and smelt like dog's droppings!

Arriving at our hotel in Forges Les Eaux we noticed that despite the town's size, there were very few people about. The hotel was fairly central so we found the only restaurant that appeared to be open and ordered food with a handful of other early evening diners. Our stroll back to the hotel through the deserted streets was suddenly interrupted when we walked passed a fast food emporium selling kebabs.  The place was rammed - full of people sitting down, ordering take aways and queueing out of the door.  I suspect we may have missed a trick here! To bed for a good night's sleep was what we needed.  What we got was the nearby  church clock chiming every 15 minutes. As the night before, finding somewhere open for a coffee and a croissant in the morning, proved to be a challenge - if you wanted a handbag, a haircut or a pharmacy, you'd have been spoilt for choice. 

Eventually B/F in F - L - E

FORGES LES EAUX TO ROUEN

Leaving the Casino and the large hotels of Forges Les Eaux (obviously where all the action was the previous night, apart from the Kebab shop) on Saturday morning saw us pedalling on quiet undulating country lanes through wooded areas, sleepy villages and a Chateau that was being used as a film set.  We offered ourselves as extras but were politely refused. 

Chateau de Bois-Heroult

Shortly before lunch and in the middle of nowhere Malc announced that he had another rear tyre puncture, he also admitted later that prior to this , his front brake cable had snapped. I cycled on to the next village which was 3km ahead to see if there was any kind of shelter - there wasn't! By the time I got back to Malcolm's position he had the bike by the side of the road on a grassy verge next to a house with a high hedge, behind which there was a dog barking loudly and a pile of dog mess that was menacingly close to the upturned bike.  My calls for the dog to be quiet fell on deaf ears, even with my best schoolboy French. Could things get any worse .... Oh ! Yes!

In grappling to remove the rear wheel we discovered that Malcolm's comprehensive tool kit lacked one essential ingredient - a spanner of the correct size to remove the wheel nuts. Our answer was to try and repair the puncture without removing the wheel - not easy but possible.  That failed miserably and just as we were contemplating our next move a knight in shining armour appeared out of nowhere.  Ludovic was out running and stopped to ask if we needed help. His English was better than my French and he explained that he only lived 4km away and that he was willing to run home, jump in his car with his spanners and return to help! And that's exactly what happened - not only did he return but he gave Malcolm his spanner to keep! We changed the inner tube and thanked Ludovic profusely for his generosity and assistance - a true knight of the road. With the wheel sort of back on, we limped to Rouen and the sanctuary of the Mecure Hotel, where Malcolm did some shopping, returning with 2 inner tubes, a brake cable and 6 cans of Kronenbourg. An Uber into the city for some beers and a pizza and an Uber driver that charged me twice ended an eventful day.

Made it to Rouen thanks to Ludovic

ROUEN TO FECAMP

After feasting on the buffet breakfast we made our way out of the city of Rouen on well marked tracks to be  faced with a long gradual climb up to a plateau.  With a headwind and Malc's bike not functioning as it should,  it was a long laborious morning which after 25 kms and a change of battery, saw us stop in the Jupiter Bar in Freville and plead with the helpful bar owner to let us charge Malcolm's battery.  it was at this stage that the subject of catching a train was muted - it was clear that with 35kms still to go to our destination, The Grinstead Giggler wasn't going to be giggling for very much longer! What actually clinched the decision to catch the train was the descent of a very steep hill down a quiet lane.  I had gone ahead a few hundred metres to recce the route and whist waiting at the bottom of the hill I was alerted first by a loud grating noise, like someone was dragging something heavy along a gravelly path.  Then, as the noise got louder, this apparition appeared before me, hurtling out of control down the hill. It was Malcolm standing on one pedal whilst dragging his other foot along the road in a vain attempt to slow himself down before careering into the woods ahead of him.  My mistake was not to have the camera at the ready to capture this death defying feat!  We did re-enact the scene whilst waiting for the ferry home, but it wasn't  quite the same!

The decision was made - cycle to Yvetot and catch the train to Fecamp. So for 23 euros the two of us and our bikes got to use the TER train which was much easier than anticipated.  A change of platforms proved to be a little tricky as my bike was too big for the lift so we had to man handle it down the steps and up the other side - fortunately there was a strong Russian student on hand to help! The trains were clean, on time and had plenty of space for bikes - a real contrast to UK trains!

Sur le train

Our arrival in Fecamp ensured another late lunch on the beach before heading to our hotel in time to soak in the bath and watch the Liverpool v Arsenal game being streamed via Facetime from Richard's TV in Walton on Thames.  The bathroom in the hotel resembled a horse's stable with big louvred swing door - bizarre!

The horse poking his head over

Fecamp Hotel

FECAMP TO DIEPPE

Our paths back to Dieppe the next day took very different routes.  Malc's involved the train back to Rouen and then another train to Dieppe. Mine was a 80km cycle through beautiful French countryside with some amazing views of the Normandy coast and it's cliffs. I actually arrived in Dieppe before my travelling companion so was able to get the bed out of the cupboard ready for his arrival!

Malc's chosen refreshment

Another rainy night in Dieppe found us eating yet more Pizza and finishing the night off with a beer or two.

A bit of a lay in the following morning with Malcolm claiming that he hadn't had much sleep on account of my snoring, which I find hard to believe.  As we were heading to the ferry I politely suggested that if cycle touring was for Malcolm he may need to get a more reliable bike and more to the point look after it.  Just saying.....