Above the clouds

Winter (it bloody feels like it!) is tough on the old cyclists. Cold hands, cold lumbar, cold knees. What seems like a great idea in the pub (cycling around

Britain on fixies, that is) starts to fade a little in the harsh light of day. What better way to beat those blues than an autumnal break to the Canaries!? Yes, last week saw me and Sorrell off to La Gomera: a beautiful little island of the coast of Africa. Days were 30 degrees plus, sunny and clear. The Island has wonderful national park at it’s centre – which for a place that hasn’t had any significant rain for 2 years is surprisingly lush – all due to “horizontal rain” – 20km from the beach finds Garajonay – 1,484 m – a good 200 metres higher than our own Everest – Ben Nevis! A great place to try mountain biking then!

The Food Blackboard at the George

Before we left the Dolphin I asked the Landlady if she could recommend anywhere local for food.

Supported with nods from the Chef and others, she suggested the George. Then I wondered if I should have asked the question ….

Amazing. We had GPS but couldn’t work out exactly where to head to. I can tell you it isn’t easy to work out where the road is and where you are heading when all before you is flat.

This way (I think)

Cycling in the wilderness with 23c tyres is a strange experience on what I would call ‘grass’ but crunched under the tyres like freshly laid snow.

For those who are not au fait with what 23c means – its relates to the cross-section width/circumference of your tyre (someone help me here!) which translates to one of the skinniest tyres you can buy and what you would typically find on racers.
What would have been better on this terrain is mountain bike tyres.

Well, at least you could ride on crunchy grass whereas when there wasn’t any it was stones and shingle that invariably meant you either got off and pushed or took your chances and fell off.

When we found the road, we were nowhere near civilisation so unless we wanted to head all the way back into Dungeness we’d have to carry on in the hope of finding food.

Typically there was a strong headwind.

It was a case of gritting your teeth and getting on with the job. Triston and Jim soon disappeared into the distance, I hung back for Elisabeth in support.

Eventually the desert turned back into soil meaning fields, hedgerows that in turn led to bushes and at last around a bend loaded with trees a civilised roundabout pointing to nearby civilisations. Yey!

We headed to the nearest village, Lydd, and came across the promising looking Dolphin, diving in and promptly ordering drinks.

What we should have first ordered was food.

There was a food board with ‘basics’ and the mention of Sunday lunch but whilst we were waiting for our drinks I couldn’t help noticing no one seemed to be eating. Was it that late?

Indeed the kitchen looked empty and I became more concerned when I noticed the warning along the top of the food board that said, “‘Food is made fresh to order meaning a wait for up to 1 hour”.

Surely not, with no one apparently waiting and it being a Sunday. I went in with a swerve-ball to the Landlady, “Do you do a Nut Roast”. Landlady looks to a Lady Punter drinking at the bar who turns out to be the Chef  but the utterance of, “No.”

Oh well. Time for a Tricky & Bear vote:
Tricky 2 thumbs down. Bear 2 thumbs down.

Nice pints though albeit limited in choice but perhaps pints always taste nice when you’re parched.

We have found Jim & Elizabeth!

Whilst waiting for Jim & Elisabeth, i couldn’t help but notice the sounds of sharp ‘cracks’ in the distance as if some sort of mass paintball battle reenactment was going on or was it something else? I was curious to find out.

Finally united with Jim & Elisabeth our ride along the front was short-lived with no evident path ahead.

As we started heading away from the sea, Jim’s GPS showed the path continued along the front even though the road we looked down seemed a dead-end. Deciding it was worth a shot we heading down and as we got to the dead-end of bolted gates it dawned on us we were right next to a live firing range. Good grief! Suddenly it all felt too close for comfort.

I woke with excitement and quickly fixed a hodgepodge breakfast of oats and Calamari bought fresh from the beach the day before which I thought would set me up perfectly for the day.

I was taking one of the first trains from Hove to get me to Folkestone for half ten where I would meet Mr Wallace.

Setting out from home the weather looked good even though there was still a nip in the air.

After one change at Brighton, I was soon settled in looking upon countryside and beach vistas we would be seeing in time as we cycled onwards from Folkestone.

Arriving in Folkestone I was surprised by the Triennial that had started featuring some 22 internationally acclaimed contemporary artists including Tracey Emin, Sejla Kameric and Richard Wentworth.

Mr Wallace merges in with the locals

If I made any disparaging comment about Folkestone when we first arrived before by bicycle from Dover I take it back. Folkestone is a surprisingly lovely place  with cobbled streets lined with charming little shops including a number of private Art Galleries that reminded me of St. David’s in Wales.

In fact I really fancy going back to explore Folkestone by spending more time at the Triennial which is on until the 14 September however we were on a mission – to cycle the British Coastline!

Fancy a cup of tea Duckie?

Soon we were heading east along the seafront, passing Amusements, a food market, wonderful architecture and if that wasn’t enough we suddenly were cycling through a park that runs below Leas Cliff.

Today was also the first day of our tour where we would have guest riders however my plan to just ‘run’ into Jim and Elizabeth on NCN2 failed.

Where are they??

I mean, how can you miss two people cycling the same path as us?

I don’t believe it; a new saddle I ordered a few months ago via Wiggle has just been delivered!

The famous Brooks B17 Special Edition Saddle

My surprise at this seemingly unremarkable fact was in fact I was originally expecting it some months back when I first ordered it.

With the next leg rapidly looming, its time to sort out ‘Frank’.

First problem on my list is the increasingly annoying ‘clicking’ sound I’m hearing when pedalling which is fast becoming a form of water torture – an ironic synonym considering I’m always on about flow…..

I found the notes I made concerning lunch which I think is worthy of a separate post because of the uniqueness of the dish especially considering this was at a Shepherd Neame Brewery establishment that could be considered a chain.

I had noticed at the Faversham Hotel, another Shepherd Neame which we visited at the end of our first day that they had a Dining Room serving ‘fine food’ (that should be a capital F for fine.

Tricky and Bear's lunch

However I put this down as a one-off but now I’d say Shepherd Neame food shouldn’t be underestimated in any way because at the Royal I plumped for the lunch special with Sailfish on the sole grounds (no pun intended) that I had never tried let alone heard of Sailfish.

I really didn’t know what to expect and if it was that bad I could have always ordered something else.

I didn’t have long to wait; It came as four steaks served with a creamy Dill sauce, cherry tomatoes and rice.

And the Sailfish? Well, its texture and taste very much reminded me of Swordfish. Firm but succulent. The sauce complimenting the fish perfectly, not masking the flavour. Coupled with the cherry tomatoes and rice the combination was supreme.

You would have had more photos of it except it was so nice that I got carried away.

Mr Wallace has mention in his post the possible Tricky and Bear system of judging a place. This is still in beta test – in this instance, the Royal Hotel got a four thumb vote.

Arriving in Dover, we followed roads noting nothing of exception. Indeed it seemed that Dover is about getting people in and out as quickly as possible for soon we were tangled with the dual-carriageways abused by cars and articulated lorries. Nothing really appealed particularly the steep slopes to climb out of Dover.

Back on the bikes post lunch we carried on past many more establishments we could have eaten or drunk at.

The Hotel we had lunch at was the first place we came across as we arrived in Deal after passing through Sandwich (cue joke of looking for a Sandwich Deal for lunch) . Even though it was a great place to stop it was clear that Deal is a surprisingly lovely and cool place. Think boutique rural. Amazing how what I can only call as the tone of a town can make such a difference to your choices.

Our onward path remained flat for many miles free of main road but a slight headwind prevailed meaning more leg effort which wasn’t as forthcoming as Mr Wallace who certainly had the wind in him however I was happy to tail.

One thing for certain was I was glad of the weather.