I'll say this for long-distance cycling: it renews your appreciation for old biddies' caffs. Jacket potatoes, soup, scones, weak tea – this is the good stuff when you're on the bike all day.
When we got up this morning, it was raining hard. Having discarded her useless overshoes in disgust, Rosie improvised this homemade sock weatherproofing:
Leaving the B&B, as if on cue, the rain stopped for good. Today, thankfully, was long on miles but short on drama. Proper food, smaller hills, almost superhuman thigh strength starting to stir in our respective pins; lots of short stops and long drinks. A period of despair when we got lost among the unsigned backroads (again) was compensated by a brisk, wind-assisted final 10 mile sweep into Taunton. Oo-arh.
Tonight we're in a bland, 90s-decorated business hotel on the main road. It feels weird. Despite its size, Taunton has only two places you can eat after 9pm; we went for the Indian option and retired late, thoughts of the next day's ride already tickling our worry glands.
When we got up this morning, it was raining hard. Having discarded her useless overshoes in disgust, Rosie improvised this homemade sock weatherproofing:
Leaving the B&B, as if on cue, the rain stopped for good. Today, thankfully, was long on miles but short on drama. Proper food, smaller hills, almost superhuman thigh strength starting to stir in our respective pins; lots of short stops and long drinks. A period of despair when we got lost among the unsigned backroads (again) was compensated by a brisk, wind-assisted final 10 mile sweep into Taunton. Oo-arh.
Tonight we're in a bland, 90s-decorated business hotel on the main road. It feels weird. Despite its size, Taunton has only two places you can eat after 9pm; we went for the Indian option and retired late, thoughts of the next day's ride already tickling our worry glands.
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