Author: MadBri23

Useful Life Lesson

After the usual faffing around, my planned departure of 9:00 am was missed by 70 minutes. But that was OK. I had all day and identified a couple of places to stay, in case I didn’t feel like making the distance. As previously observed, taking things steady meant my overall progress was pretty good.

I’d say this is a useful life lesson. Remembering to enjoy the ride, rather than fixating on where you are heading makes for a much more pleasant journey. And not only when cycling.

Bla Bla… Place Names, etc.

Normally, I’d then leave the main road for back lanes to Melksham. But today I had a lot of miles to cover, so took the more direct route. Which, it turns out, isn’t too bad at all.

From there, I regularly take a busy-ish road to meet the canal at Seend. This time, I left that in order to scale the hills southwards towards Market Lavington. Climbing these at a steady pace, they were also relatively painless.

Plain Sailing

There are some gorgeous villages dotted about this area. Some of which comprise almost entirely thatched dwellings. But the highlight came when I left the traffic to cross a stretch of Salisbury Plain.

Here, civilian vehicles are not welcome and friendly signs warn of unexploded munitions. There are also invitations not to stay from the tarmacked track, as the surrounding area is an active firing range. Nice.

Welcome to Enter?

After a time, the track emerged at Larkhill ‘home of the British Artillery’. Which is an intriguing place, with a parade of shops, pub, café and people milling around in a mixture of fatigues and skivvies. Most turnings from the central road leave the casual by-passer with no doubt as to how welcome they would be to enter. I kept my eyes firmly on the road ahead.

Famous Landmark

Unscathed

From here, a short – but somewhat scary – section of A303 needed to be negotiated. Worse still, at the end of this, I had to make a right turn, across the four lanes of dual carriageway. I spent a good few minutes counting the number of seconds it took between vehicles appearing on the horizon and potentially squishing me into the tarmac. Then, I waited for a sufficient break in the traffic to risk manoeuvring across to the gap in the central reservation.

Having managed this unscathed, I had to do the same for the two lanes of vehicles coming in the opposite direction. Which, clearly, I also survived. Now, I was once more on a quiet road, heading for the ‘Wallops’.

Time for Tea

I’ve no idea why the name Nether Wallop is so familiar. Or what significance it may have. But, as far as I’m aware, this was my first time here. All very tranquil and quaint. On the way, I passed a sign to Palestine. How fortunate to be in such a peaceful location.

Ominous

After a goodly break, I headed off up into the South Downs for the final approach to Winchester. Mid-way through the ascent, I heard an ominous metallic clunk coming from the vicinity of my pedals. Stopping to investigate, I was relieved to find I’d made a poor gear choice, with the chain crossing from smallest-to-smallest front and rear cogs.

So, I assumed all was OK. It wasn’t. As I resumed pedalling, the sounds grew louder and more strident. Plus, there was now an alarming wobble in the movement of the pedal cranks.

Completely Shot

With another 5 miles to go until Winchester, I figured that much of this would be downhill or flat. So, I risked cautiously proceeding. The sound of metal on metal was now like something from a shunting yard and the wobble in the pedals very pronounced. But we got there.

In Winchester, I pushed past rush hour traffic through the centre and up the hill out the other side. Then, I decided there was no risk in causing further damage to what were clearly completely shot bearings. So, I screeched and grinded the last few miles to the festival site.

All’s Well That Ends Well

Naturally, my point of arrival was nowhere near the crew check-in. So, I took the access track around the perimeter until finally reaching the accreditation cabin. And all was well.

Familiar Face

Over the course of the weekend, various people came to join us. Including a face that seemed familiar. We realised afterwards that this old punk had stopped for a chat after I last played Boomtown, many years ago. He and his partner had heartily sung along with the final couple of songs of my solo set back then.

They’d been performing with their band elsewhere that year. This time around, though, Jamie was alone. He asked whether we’d like to join him later for a gig in the Shamrock pub in the Old Town. To which we agreed. Sadly, though, we didn’t hear any more from him. I hope you’re OK Jamie?

Thanks for reading. See you next time. x

Sumptuous Breakfast – Absurd Hill

Rob had gone on ahead, as his gear ratios mean he can’t slow to my walking-up-walls pace. I assumed he’d ridden this monster but, on meeting at the top, discovered that he too had had to push. And pushing was barely any easier, since our loaded bikes threatened to drag us back down to the bottom, like overgrown dung beetles.

Drawing Breath

He explained the renovation had been underway for 23 years. During that period, the windows had been blown in by a storm and the owner had spent some time at her/his majesty’s pleasure. What a waste.

Road Closed

Once sufficiently revived, we resumed our ride. The road still climbed but in a far more manageable fashion. Until, at a turning, we were confronted by a ‘road closed’ sign. This being a narrow track that disappeared downhill, we weren’t keen to explore, in case it really was blocked and we’d have to come back up again.

Instead, we found a lane that took us onto a B road, which shadowed our mapped route into Chepstow. What a godsend this turned out to be. We had to climb a little further. But, once on the deserted main road, sailed downhill on smooth tarmac, seemingly for miles. And now we caught glimpses of the Severn Bridge, so knew we’d soon be on flatter terrain.

Traditional Charm

From here, we descended a little further, before negotiating our way around Chepstow and onto the bridge. Crossing the Severn is always exhilarating. And knowing that home is within easy reach makes it all the more rewarding. But first we had to pick our way through the villages and low hills north of Bristol.

Perfect Unison

Approaching one such village, we slowed to allow a driver to pass us, coming down a narrow hill ahead. To our left was a parked black Audi, which I’d noted had an occupant but was stationary. Having let the oncoming car through, I accelerated to start the climb. As I did so, the Audi driver decided it would be fine to back out. At speed. He so nearly hit me that both Rob and I yelled the same expletive in perfect unison.

This driver, possibly shocked to realise he’d nearly hit me, joined in the chorus. Then he followed us. When you’ve narrowly avoided being run over, there tends to be a certain amount of adrenalin in your system. Which can trigger the flight or fight response. Given we couldn’t outrun an Audi coupe, the second option now looked like a better bet.

Unfortunate Company

Fortunately, for all concerned, our friend decided to turn off before anything ugly ensued. And he did so with much revving of engine. Bless him. Rob and I – meanwhile – stopped at a community café for a cuppa to soothe our nerves.

Later, as we negotiated the multitude of cycleways along the ring-roads around North Bristol, we encountered this same driver a couple more times. And, both times, he was being a complete dick. We weren’t sure whether this was because he’d seen us. Or whether it was simply because he is a dick. In a black Audi. Sorry if you own such a vehicle but if you do, you’re in unfortunate company.

Familiar Ride

From there, it was a straight-forward and familiar ride back to Bathampton: along the disused railway; past the industrial units; by the riverside; across town; onto the towpath and home. Where we had a few days’ rest before our final gig of the tour. Which was – as last year – at the wonderful Grapes pub on Westgate Street in Bath.

Happily Mingling

This establishment used to be something of a dive. But, the current management, led by the wonderful Ellie, has transformed it into a vibrant space in which people of all ages and persuasions happily mingle. And they host regular music events: from folk sessions to jazz jams to bands of various hue.

It was great to be playing, once again, at a proper music venue. With an open-minded, appreciative audience. And staff that look after you. These places deserve all our support.

So Long – And Thanks for All the Breakfast

Thanks Ellie and The Grapes, Bath. Thanks Anne and The Whitehall Llandovery. Thanks Michael and Cwrw, Carmarthen. Thanks Adam and Trehale Farm. Thanks Steve and The Cellar Cardigan. Thanks Arnie and all at Shindig. Thanks too to all who hosted us and provided such a wonderful array of cooked breakfasts!

It’s been a hell of a tour. We’ve covered 560 miles; climbed nearly 37,000 feet; had some incredible experiences and met some wonderful people. In fact, people are wonderful. And nearly all simply want to get along and have a good time. If we’ve contributed to that in some small way (and maybe pricked the odd conscience too), then we’ve done our job.

Help Yourself

Please do help yourself to the EP download. Donations are gratefully received but not required: the main thing is for you to hear – and hopefully enjoy – our music.

Thanks for reading. See you next time. x

Appropriate Noises

Another morning; another cooked breakfast. We made the obligatory small talk as our host’s partner delivered our food. But as the enforced chat dried up, he didn’t move. And then he launched into another topic. Still half asleep, we made appropriate noises but were relieved when Lesley lured him away.

Tired Legs

This morning’s ride took us up onto the edges of the Black Mountains. And was another hefty climb. As yesterday, this was largely in manageable stages. But our legs were tired after the push to get to Llangadog in good time.

Early on, we came across a small flock of sheep being herded up the narrow lane. Rob, some way ahead, was ushered through. However, by the time I reached them, the sheep were filling the road.

Poor Bloke

The flock was being driven by a lone chap on a quad bike, with his sheepdog on the back in a makeshift carrier. I followed at a discreet distance until the shepherd stopped and, painfully slowly, heaved himself down from his machine. Seeing me waiting, he explained he’d recently had a stroke. He didn’t look in a good way. Poor bloke.

At his suggestion, I tried to ease past the animals. But they just became panicked. So, I pushed my bike slowly behind until, finally, they turned off.

Glorious Vista

Rob had found a picnic spot on the edge of this vista at which to wait. He’d encountered some rather humourless squaddies and their stern-faced leaders. These had now disappeared but we watched together as a group of motorcyclists stopped to take photos, before zooming off over the hills.

Fruit (& Veg)-less Search

After a little more climb, we started the gradual descent back down into the valley. At the main road, we made two fruitless attempts to find something vegetarian for lunch. Apparently there’s not much call for it in these parts. Eventually, we were directed to a garage, which turned out to be a small service station, complete with café and outdoor seating.

I realised I’d stopped here on a previous trip. Knowing the food here was good, I suggested we treat ourselves to a sit-down lunch. Which we did. During our break, we heard there was heavy rain in Brecon. However, we just caught the tail end of this, happily avoiding a feared drenching.

Uncommonly Helpful

In Brecon, we pulled up outside Costa for a coffee break. We asked if we could borrow a towel to dry off the seats but the assistant insisted on doing this for us. Then, when it began to rain again, she invited us to bring our bikes inside. In a Costa! I couldn’t imagine that in Bath.

Leaving the town, there was a short stretch of canal tow path to navigate before joining the friendlier B road to Abergavenny. This had its ups and downs but little traffic and allowed us to set a goodly tempo. And the views, now opening out towards the Beacons, were lovely.

Garden Sheds

Tonight’s venue had been a concern. Communication had been intermittent and – once again – riddled with last-minute doubts about advance sales. I’d suggested we’d be happy to perform regardless but had had no response. So, we assumed the gig was cancelled and resigned ourselves to another evening off.

Unimpressed

Imagine our surprise when Rob discovered a Facebook post from that afternoon, advertising our event. I’ll spare you the details but we eventually managed to speak with the venue manager and agreed to cancel. They clearly had little hope for a decent audience and this felt like a mis-booking. Make no mistake, I’d provided plenty of marketing material over the preceding months: they just hadn’t done anything with it.

Our host’s son overheard the telephone conversation and was unimpressed. He’d not heard of the venue, even though it’s about 200 yards from his door. In the morning, his mother said she never receives any information about what’s on there… and she runs a B & B! Come on, people: make an effort.

Refreshingly Affordable

We both enjoyed fish and chips for an embarrassingly small amount of money. This was washed down with a refreshingly affordable IPA. Then another.

And maybe one more…

On a Mission

In fact, I was on a bit of a mission. I wanted to get to Llangadog in good time to set up and prepare. Knowing this was a community-run space, with unknown technical equipment, it was conceivable that we’d have our work cut out to get a decent sound. Plus, I was bristling from the constant drip of negative messages from anxious committee members.

Alarming Incline

Mostly, like yesterday afternoon, we were following Sustrans’ Route 82. Which thoughtfully picks its way along river valleys on quiet roads. As we neared Carmarthen, however, we found ourselves back on the dreaded Route 47.

Dramatic Blow-Out

Such was the severity of this descent that Rob’s rim brakes heated his wheels until they were too hot to handle. And this melted his front inner tube, causing a dramatic blow-out, just meters before the incline bottomed out.

Rob made efficient road-side repair in a handy lay-by and we were soon back in the saddle. We hoped to visit a cycle store in Carmarthen to get everything checked over. But it was Sunday and Carmarthen was closed.

Magnificent Valley

Having an early start this evening, we were keen to press on. Before long, we reached the magnificent valley that leads to Llandovery and beyond. Here, we were backtracking along the path of our outward journey. And the quiet B road along the valley side was, once again, fabulous to cycle. This has enough hills to keep you honest but they aren’t steep enough to slow your progress.

Llanga-dogs

We zipped along at quite a lick, enjoying the scenery, complete with castle ruins and flying displays from curious red kites. A short stretch of main road took us the final few miles to Llangadog. Here, we encountered the usual suicidal dickheads but were afforded a welcome breather when some brave cow-herds stopped the traffic to lead their beasts across the carriageway.

Good To Go

Arriving at the Community Centre, we were determined everything would go smoothly, in the face of the committee’s reservations. We were greeted by the organiser, Sue, and her partner Derek. He was profoundly deaf and insisted on talking over us as we attempted to ascertain what the PA had to offer.

Llandovery Faithful

Sue and her team had provided some much-appreciated pre-show grub, which we gratefully devoured, leaving a little for an after-show snack. We also managed to tease a couple of pre-show beers from the bar. Then some interval ones. And a couple to take back to our digs later on.

Worth It In The End

One of the committee members also came for a chat after the show. He said he’d not seen anything ‘that political’ in a long time. Maybe he doesn’t get out much.

Anyway, Llangadog committee, you can stop belly-aching now. It was all worth it in the end.

Worth The Wait

We’d been promised breakfast this morning since Adam was cooking for a rugby team that was staying at the Trehale Farm campsite. (They were also in attendance last night and Rose, a gynaecology nurse we’d met earlier, took delight in setting them straight on some of their youthful boasts!) Breakfast took a while, as Adam had to wait for fuel for the stove to be delivered. But it was well worth the wait.   

Menacing Geese

Thus steeled, we set off back across the edge of the Preseli hills for Cardigan. The route today was really enjoyable. Generally, the hills were broad. So, the climbs – though tough at times – were rewarding rather than niggly.

Just before the longest of these, we passed some geese in an entrance way. Rob may have upset them as, by the time I passed, they were looking menacing. I moved to the far side of the road but had to accelerate as they started hissing and running towards me.

Quirky Venue

It turned out to be the Bluestone brewery (whose produce we’d sampled the night before at Trehale). They were open, so we stopped for (soft) drinks. This quirky venue has regular music events and we enquired about bookings. It seems this could be an ideal stop for a future tour.

Luxury

Our route seemed to take the most sensible way through the hills, aften along small, wooded valleys. And once we’d completed the big climb before Cardigan, we decided it would be an idea to stop for a late lunch. This was a good decision. We managed to get a really wholesome quiche and salad in a lovely café that had officially stopped serving food. The Coach House, as it’s called, is in a lovely spot next to the abbey ruins at St Dogmaels, just outside Cardigan. Thoroughly recommended.

Good Spirits

As expected, the gig was sparsely populated but very well received. A chap called John took photos, which he promised to send on (he did). Despite the low numbers, we managed to get a fair few dancing by the end and all sang along when prompted. Pros ‘til the last…

A Place of Community

Like Jess, Steve provides more than just a café and music venue at The Cellar. His is a place of community, and refuge to those that might otherwise be isolated or lonely. It also provides employment for people who may be overlooked by more mainstream enterprises.

And it really is a cracking venue, with a great vibe, amazing, eclectic décor and a terrific selection of vinyl on sale.

Monster Fox Gloves

Our ride today from Little Haven was short but hilly, beginning with the steep climb over the headland to Broadhaven. From there, we followed the coast northwards, over a succession of peaks and dips, past Druidstone. Then we headed inland, across the hills to Mathry. The weather was beautiful and clear to begin, giving us lovely views across the bay. And the monster fox gloves here were even bigger.

Junk Yard Caravan

Adam filmed our arrival to share on social media, then showed us to our caravan. This was located in what he affectionately called the ‘junk yard’. And was, indeed, a junk yard. It had certainly seen better days and Rob was a little alarmed. However, the beds were actually quite comfortable and the makeshift-looking shower, in a shed next door, did the job just fine.

Take Note

The event was a sell out and, although people were still arriving as we went on, we had a great reception. Among the more enthusiastic in the audience were two youngsters Onyx and Jess, with whom we got chatting afterwards. Onyx seemed to pick up every lyric before even I knew what I was about to sing and Jess danced throughout. These are the things that can make or break a gig – so take note, audience members!

Local Talent

It was wonderful to catch up with local songwriter Abbie Jebbers, with whom we’d shared the night at Trehale a year before. She’s a true free spirit and we had a lovely time dancing to Undercover Hippy and – afterwards – DJ Timbale with her and her mates. This was made all the more pleasurable by a few pints of the local Bluestone beer, which we gratefully accepted as part-payment for our efforts.

Urgent Help

The night was a fundraiser for the people of Gaza. This I don’t see as a political statement, rather a response to people in dire need of urgent help. Organisers from the charities being supported spoke eloquently about their endeavours and the plight of the people they are working to help.

All in all a worthwhile and enjoyable night all round. Well done to Adam and his team for putting this together. Keep up the good work!

A Bit of Everything

Not surprisingly, this morning’s breakfast was very much old-skool, the veggie option being the full English without the meaty bits. Thus fortified, we set off for Little Haven. Today’s ride had a bit of everything. This included a stretch alongside the busy main road, during which Rob narrowly escaped becoming part of the tarmac.

The Joys of Spring

Along the way, we encountered the now familiar mix of roadside wild flowers. These were dominated by fox gloves, cow parsley and a pink daisy-like flower that grows on small bushes. No idea what that is but it was everywhere. The fox gloves were an iridescent purple and absolutely enormous.

Relaxing & Restful

At Little Haven, we enjoyed a couple of nights’ respite. Although we’d missed two of our planned gigs, we’d covered a lot of miles and scaled an absurd quantity of hills. So, a full day’s rest was in order.

I spent the day strolling on the beach, enjoying a lengthy soak in the bath, reading and generally recuperating. Rob, on the other hand, couldn’t resist a quick cycle ride into Haverfordwest to pick up something or other for his bike. The man is irrepressible.

Thoroughly Abstemious

Thus refreshed, we were ready for the next leg of our adventure, which would take us a short way to Trehale for our big fundraiser with Undercover Hippy. To which we were looking forward very much.

Huge Improvement

We did have to join the busy main road for a while but there was a well-marked cycleway alongside the dual-carriageway, separated from the traffic. And soon we were in Carmarthen. Our digs were in an old-fashioned but clean and tidy guest house, which – in my book – is preferably to a fancy yet badly maintained one.

Great Venue

We enquired after a meal but were told the venue really only offers ‘basket food’ (fried stuff). After a little suggestion-searching, we decided that the local ‘Spoons would be the quickest and cheapest option (as is often the case). This was undoubtable true but the food was dry, uninspiring and low on nutritional value. Well, we knew the risks.

Beautiful People

A highlight was one young couple (Layla and Jude) dancing to ‘Beautiful People’. The former essayed a kind of double-tempo tap dance, which was enjoyed by all. Also among the more attentive was a young woman who told Rob she knows a local DJ and Shindig co-founder who lives in Cardigan. She promised to encourage him to come to our ‘Cellar’ gig there on Sunday.

Job done.

Oh Little Town

Following a hearty breakfast, we climbed steeply south of Llandovery, making our way along the line of hills, through Bethlehem (not so much a little town as a hamlet) and beyond. After that, we descended to a quiet road that follows the wide valley to Carmarthen. This afforded us views of old castle ruins, perched on promontories, as we sped along the gently undulating valley side.

Rob hit on the idea of leaving our instruments, since we had no gig planned for this evening, Rather, we were heading to our friends’ place in the Preselis. However, we were unable to reach anyone at Cwrw to arrange this.

Madness

So, still fully laden, we set about the hills to the west of the town. And these were ridiculous. We began with a climb up a road so steep that a lady witing in her SUV for us to pass shook her head and mouthed ‘madness’ at us. This ‘road’ then continued to climb. And climb. And climb.

Just as it seemed we’d reached the top, we were plunged back down into a steep-sided valley, only to have to climb an even steeper ascent the other side. And this was repeated, over and over, with nowhere to stop for any kind of refreshment. Much of the time, we followed the Sustrans route No. 47. I can only say that whoever chose this route is a sadistic b*stard (a bit like a great bustard but more vicious).  

Higher Gear

Typically, the part of the ride we might have expected to be tougher – climbing up into the Preselis – was not so hard at all. Granted, we still needed to engage our lower gears for lengthy sections. But the gradients were steady and consistent.

Sensible For Once

There followed a lovely evening with our friends Pat & Verity, complete with good veggie food, beer and a little wine. Conversation flowed and we were sensible enough – for once – to call a halt before it got too late.

Short but Stunning

Today’s ride, after yesterday’s excesses, was mercifully short. But it was stunning. Seriously, one of the most beautiful rides I can remember. Whereas previously I’ve battled with traffic on the main road along this stretch, our route this time took us up into the hills of the Brecons. Which, of course, took some climbing. But it was well worth the effort for the panoramic views and minimal number of passing vehicles.

But he was a lovely bloke. He said he’d come and see us in Llandovery that evening. We’d see.

Confrontation Averted

Descending from the chain of hills, we came across a wonderful café with a lovely garden, popular with cyclists, of which we’d seen many. This was called The International Welsh Rarebit Centre, so it would have been rude not to try some. Delicious. And the friendly staff offered to fill our water bottles without us having to ask.

The atmosphere was convivial and we quickly got talking to a couple at the next table. The lady was an ex-nurse. And she also liked to chat. Fortunately, some cyclists diverted Rob’s attention as she started to say how she thought the NHS should be privatised. Confrontation averted!

Mostly Well Behaved

Then we did join the main road for a short stretch. Our planned route was to take us up more climbs but we declined. This section was mostly downhill, with lovely sweeping curves. One notable exception aside, the Sunday drivers were mostly well behaved and we enjoyed being able to cover the remaining miles at a good pace.

Welcoming Host

Arriving at The Whitehall, our host – Anne – was very welcoming, offering drinks before showing us to our room and helping us to safely stow the bikes. She also cooked us a hearty dinner, despite the kitchen not being officially open. We offered to go and find something elsewhere but she was insistent.

Magical Moment

And the gig was a triumph. The response was amazing, with a standing ovation at the end and 100% audience participation. And our friend from the Brecons, Paul, did turn up!

One magical moment came when, having introduced ‘Beautiful People’ with tales of the wonderful characters we’d met on our travels, the side door opened and in came Lola (see previous post)! Lola had been on her way to the ‘Fire in The Mountain’ festival near Aberystwyth, following a day’s walking in the Brecons. She’d spotted the chip shop opposite the pub and pulled in to get something to eat. She’d then heard the music and looked in, completely unaware it was us!

Intriguing Characters

We also met the wonderful DJ Brian and his wife Trish, who were particularly taken with our performance. Brian plans to run events in the village and hopes to get us back before long. And both were keen to help promote our upcoming gig in nearby Llangadog.

Vindication of Our Efforts

Anyway, we’d finally got back in front of an audience and the results had been great: uplifting, gratifying and vindication of all our efforts.

Long may it so continue.