Rail Rode

I admit it. After a night in the youth hostel near Newhaven I took the train to London and then home. It was the forecast of 20-40m.p.h. winds plus the fact that once I get back to England then I just want to be home. The challenge has gone. Until next time.

But it also allows me to a little more  of England for the train journey let me see some wonderful stations, all built in the Victorian era but some since beautifully updated. 

So here they are starting with Lewes (in its original form), London Victoria (all commuter bustle), St Pancras (with its handsome façade and arch) and finally Kings Cross (recently updated). Yes, travelling by train is a pleasure, almost up there with cycling.

Journey’s End

It is nice cycling in France but there is something special when arriving at the port with the sun shining, the seagulls calling and a couple of hours until the ferry leaves for Newhaven.

Time to stock up on that last French meal of quiche and goat’s cheese plus some tomatoes and a peach or two. Or perhaps some sea food. But that’s for later. Right now a grand crème would go down well. 

And when it’s time, just a short ride to the ferry terminal. Good news today, the wind’s in my favour – probably for the first time on this trip. Yes it has been strenuous, but every cloud has a silver lining, you should see my mussels.

And There It Was, Gone!

Finally, I made it to Dieppe and the end of my French sojourn. For a last meal I went to the local Pataterie, which serves everything potatoes – and 100% French potatoes at that. On Sunday evenings they have a magician who moves from table to table entertaining. His name is ‘Flechon’ – which probably means Wizard - and about 20 years old but he did a fine act, in a mixture of French and English all for my benefit.

And he was good, making me choose a card, writing my name on it and then not only finding the card in the pack but also one next, its exactly double the but without my writing. So once more he had a full pack and so let me keep my card.

Yes, he was good but then I showed him my trick. I made a whole Tartiflette disappear in about five minutes. Delicious.

R2D3?

I have found another way to approach Dieppe and it’s lovely. Having fought your way out of Rouen - making sure you do not end up in Le Havre for city road signs insist on taking you to the motorway – well play it right and you end up on the D3.

It’s a lovely road, called ‘La Route Du Valle’ that lives up to its name. You pass through some pretty French towns as it takes you gently along the river Scie, with cows grazing in green fields. For this is the land of all things dairy and much more.

Yes, it’s a wonderful ride with comforting signs announcing that you are on the “Cycle Route of Apples and Cider”. The tourist board welcomes you and then suddenly, like a jilted bride, they drop you onto the frenzied highways that is car land for the last section into Dieppe. But don’t let that put you off, the courtship is wonderful.

Meet the New Bike, Just Like the Old Bike

I have been remiss in not introducing you to New Bike. He joined the team a few weeks back when I needed a new means of transport around Cambridge as flimsy Sun Tourer finally failed in the bottom bracket department. The plan was to get another bike that no one would want to pinch, that being an epidemic in Cambridge.

But then I saw New Bike on Ebay and he was just like Old Bike being a 1990’s Dawes Super Galaxy but he has paddle gear changers and who can resist those? The other benefit is that unlike Old Bike he actually fits me. On my previous trips I have felt like Don Quixote on his servant’s donkey. Perhaps that’s a little harsh as he served me well and couldn’t help being slightly deficient in the size department.

So for this trip Old Bike stayed in the garage and New Bike has been wonderful. It also means that if you are between 5’ 8”-5' 10” then pop round to my place and we can pop out on a ride together. For I now have a spare bike.

The Road to Rouen

There are at least two ways of cycling from Paris to Rouen. You can follow the meandering River Seine passing the Renault factory, a large cement works and probably a couple of nuclear power stations but that probably doubles the distance as the road maps the curves of the river. 

Alternatively you can go ‘over the top’ in a direct line that follows the D14. It’s a fine straight road but one which car drivers claim as their own. So on the way you get honked at as you squeeze to the side following the white line and pray that a negligent lorry driver doesn’t clip you with his wing mirror. All this to keep you on edge.

The authorities seem to have identified this risk and will occasionally tease you off the main road with a cycle path signposted Rouen which will later mysteriously disappear forcing you once again back on to the risky road. At one point someone clearly decided to drive a tank along one section, gouging chunks from the edge just where you want to cycle. 

And finally, just as you are nearing your destination, there is a big sign saying Boos to shock you out of any complacency. Yes, you can take the fast route but then, as the old saying goes, that Road to Rouen is paid with goads and tensions.

Men and the Art of My Tour Cycle Maintenance

I should say in advance that this posting is going to be a bit technical. It’s all to do with my new Schwalbe Marathon Plus back tyre – yes, I knew that would get your interest. 

You see, while it has long been my tyre of choice for road trips they have recently changed the design ditching the Kevlar lining, which seemed to be its main point of difference, and substituted an extra layer of rubber below the tread so that any invasive sharp object does not penetrate far enough to cause a puncture.

So I installed one of these newmatic wonders just before I left home but immediately found that the extra rubber causes the tyre to rub on my mudguard mounting – still with me? 

Never mind I thought, the excess ‘flash’ rubber left on the surface of the new tyre would quickly wear down as the tyre rolled along the road and the rubbing would stop. Hopefully, somewhere around Canterbury.

What is more – and this is the clever bit – the mudguard mounting would then serve to knock off any of those pesky stones which may adhere to the tyre before they could do any damage. The idea was so good I was about to file a patent.

The trouble is that it does not work. As I found out today on the Somme Canal Path, just short of Amiens, my first real encounter with grit. All that happens is you pick up a stone and that forms a good basis to collect some more, until very soon the back of the bike sounds like a rusty Ferris wheel. Goodness knows what it would be like on a muddy track.

So it’s back to the drawing board and the pressing need to remove the back wheel and cut off a little of that mounting. 

But I’m OK with it all. For we must be phlegmatic in the face of adversity, or to adapt a quote from Robert Pirsig’s book: It's the sides of the mounting which must claim the knife, not the top. And if you can track down the original then you get to be 'eclectic bloke of the week’. Alongside me.