Part 1 of today’s ride on Komoot
Part 2 of today’s ride on Komoot
The campsite is beautiful here at the Daneway Inn. It’s hidden from the Inn, down near a creek. I could hear deer last night. Luckily I was warned about them or I wouldn’t have known what the sound was. It’s somewhere between a weaze and a bark.
So, it was another leisurely breakfast and packup, but all was ready by 9:15. Then I had a chat to the wonderful hosts – Rita and Brian. They checked my map and gave me some route advice. I’m really looking forward to the Welsh part – the villages, not the hills.
Today was hills, hills and more hills but the scenery was just stunning. I was riding in the Cotswolds, and went off course in the first 50 metres.
I followed the road that Brian pointed out and it turned out to be breathtaking in every sense. I’m so glad I took that route, even though Komoot had other ideas. I didn’t realise until I was at the top of the first super steep hill, so I just continued. There was no way that I was going to go back down that hill and straight up another one.
That’s in effect what I did (down the other side), but at least I was making progress. The lanes were narrow and steep with constant turns, so I couldn’t really the bike let go. There were enough cars that meant I had to be careful.
I was expecting to have an early lunch in Gloucester but the going was so slow, that it was quite a late lunch at a nice cafe near the huge ornate cathedral.
Leaving Gloucester seemed simple, along some well signposted bike paths, but Komoot (grrr) sent me up a 20 metre narrow, slippery, muddy path with overhanging stinging nettles and thorns.
I pushed, I pulled, I slid down the mud into the thorns, the bike got caught in thorns, I got caught in thorns and stinging nettles … but I finally made it, bleeding from all limbs and covered in mud, then immediately discovered that if I’d continued about 50 metres, the bike path would loop around and avoid the muddy trail. Aaaaagggghhh
Soon after I turned onto a B road with lots of numbers. That usually indicates a minor road but this one was anything but. And here was the main difference between Aus / NZ drivers and British ones. These guys simply wouldn’t pass close to me at all. It was as if I took up the whole lane – which I didnt. I felt safe, but I also felt guilty that I was holding up so many cars. There was plenty of room for them to go by as well.
After more than 5 kilometres of this mayhem, I turned onto the most quiet road and all traffic was forgotten.
I arrived in Newent in the middle of a roadwork induced traffic jam. That’s the thing here, the roads are narrow and roadwork sometimes means a catastrophic disruption to traffic.
I grabbed food for the evening and breakfast at the local supermarket in Newent then changed my mind about which campground to stay at. I opted for one that was a hilly 6kms away. I’m glad I did because it’s really nice.
It’s sparsely populated, run by nice people and sells bottles of local cider, so I couldn’t refuse. I cooked dinner and while making a cup of tea for a tranquil finish to the day in the dark, a campervan pulled up.
It was full of dogs, kids and lights and for the next couple of hours the cycle was – dog barks, owner yells shooosh, silence for one minute, dog barks, … repeat, repeat. I’m a dog person but I wouldn’t bring four dogs to a campground.