SEASON'S GREETINGS

This is the time of year where I abandon pasties and Yorkie bars in favour of mince pies.  My wife made the most delicious mince pies I have ever tasted this year.  The visitors in our holiday cottage all came back for seconds after she took over a intial batch when they arrived. 

I saw a programme on Channel 4 last night that said pasties make you fat.  They don't!  Proper west country pasties are the best food ever, except for my wife's mince pies. 

I hope that you like our Christmas tree this year.  And the duck?  We found out Bradley Wiggins is to receive his knigthood and Sarah Storey is to become a dame.  We also watched The Holiday and all these helped us to have a happy feel for this Christmas

Have you good Christmas story this year?  For next year, read more on my new website or follow me on twitter

A WEEKEND IN LONDON

How different to my last journey?  I was invited for a weekend in London and  to bring my bike.

London is a completely different experience to cycling anywhere else.  For a start, there are cyclists everywhere.  There are high speed commutors, Boris bikes, easy bikes, couriers and no lots more.  Traffic is vast with buses, taxis, delivery vehicles, bikes and cars all vying for space.

Asked where I would like to go, I ventured cycling along the South Bank to Greenwich.  We peddled off along Bayswater Road past Lancaster Gate and into Hyde Park.  Swimmers had gathered at the Serpentine for their morning dip.  I asked a man with a thermometer what was the temperature.  "One degree" he replied.  My friend who is a member went for a dip.  Ducks, swans and coots looked for friendly humans for food.

Crowds turned out to watch changing of the guard as we passed and then we peddled off down the Strand to cross the River Thames at Blackfriars.  London seemed to be a mighty busy place for builders as there were tower cranes everywhere.   

The route to Greenwich followed the Thames Path and a cycle route.  After passing under the end of Tower Bridge, we were immersed in narrow alleys surrounded by converted warehouse buildings, many of which are now restaurants.  The river banks were a fascinating mixture of architectural styles with Canary Wharf on one side and housing of all types on the other.

I had two favourite places.  The first was a Lebonese restaurant at Greenwich that served a fabulous lunch for £7.50 and the other a visit to Brunel Museum at Rotherhythe where we were lucky enough to arrive on the first day that the South Shaft was open to the public. The museum celebrates the first bored tunnel in the World designed by Marc Brunel and supervised by his son, Isambard.  It is said to be "the most rhymed about, danced about, sung about and painted about construction site in the World". 

Returning after dark, the lights of London glistened ostentatiously.  Tower Bridge was especially resplendent with the Shard behind.  Crowds were gigantic as seemingly everyone had come out to walk the South Bank.  Those not on the South Bank were at a fair by the Serpentine.  This ride was far removed from cycling Exmoor just two weeks previously.

EXMOOR

Wild, wet and windy.  This describes my buddy, Andy and my ride across Exmoor and into Somerset.  The rain brought the trains to a standstill while motorists struggled with the floods.

This was a four day ride, the first of which was bright sunshine on Dartmoor. As we cycled up Devon's C2C to Barnstaple a kingfisher darted out, then flocks of starlings performed wheeling and turning at our sides. We passed the ancient mint at Lydford and saw a splendidly restored train at Okehampton.  I was glad of my new powerful LED lights that lit up the Tarka Trail for the final 12 miles into Barnstaple.

The remaining days were as dramatic as the first was pleasant.  The rain lashed down and at times the wind smacked into our faces.  We peddled along the ridge road to Dulverton and on to Bampton.  We could see the moors looking forbidding and did not envy the sheep and wildlife that lived on them.  I imagined that reading a book in front of a roaring log fire might be preferable to this.  The minor roads were torrents of mud and stones.  The following day was the same as we came off the hills into the Levels of Somerset.

Beyond Bridgwater, the rivers were not able to take the rain away so we peddled through floods.  The most extreme was at Bawdrip where we found a water spout at the end of a cycle path.  Having navigated that, we cycled up river with bow waves either side of us.  Around here fire engines were hard at work pumping out flooded properties and attending to accidents.  Journey's end was Yatton where we planned to catch trains home but the adventure was not over.  The rail service had collapsed.  Most buses had given up as well.  Huh, this is too difficult to tell here

On the way, we discovered some of Somerset's secret gems.  Our cycle route took us into an ancient river bed set in a gorge.  The soft red sandstone had been eroded into a gorge during what is believed to be the Triassic Period when Somerset could have been a desert near to the Equator and subject to flash floods.

At Appley, we discovered the best little shop ever.  Despite the rain, we could hear the sound of children playing even though we were in countryside.  The little shop seemed to be a primary school, post office, shop and cafe all in one.  Moreover the coffee and cakes were delicious. A bouquet of wild primroses were on the counter giving a hint of spring although still 6 months off.

We followed National Cycle Network Route 27 to Barnstaple, Route 3 to Cossington, an unnumbered route to Winscombe and Route 26 to Yatton.  The gorge is on Route 3 just west of Nynehead and Appley is about 4 miles further west.

IN SEARCH OF A MINI-FARMER

Yesterday while out on my bike I saw a sign that made me laugh.  I wished that I had my camera with me.  I decided to return again this morning with my camera.  It was cold but the sun was shining brightly.  Earlier the fields had glistened with a heavy frost.

I peddled through the little lanes south of Ivybridge in Devon.

When I reached the tiny hamlet of Westlake, the road was blocked by a Landrover.  The driver said "Hello Graham. Sorry but you cannot come this way as we have a herd of cattle coming.  Can you go another way?"  I realised that it was one of my farming neighbours. " No" I replied "I am searching for a mini-farmer and I am told that he is this way."  " You would be right. There is a mini-farmer this way.  He is not far" said my neighbour.  " How many cattle have you got?" I asked.  "Ahh, it is about 90 bullocks.  We are driving them about 6 miles along this road.  We are lucky.  We have lots of helpers".  At this moment, a fresh faced young girl appeared wearing a tight fitting sweater.  It was emblazened "Need New Boyfriend".  She did look like a cattle drover to me but then what do I know?  This cattle drive was getting interesting.

Along came the cattle, all 90 of them.  I took out my camera and took position for what I hoped would be a good photograph.  Four more drovers appeared and just as I was ready for the shot, one of the drovers came over and asked me to block a house entrance from the cattle.  There was no time.  I did as I was told but it was not a great position for a photo.  There was too much sun so apologies for the bleached out picture.

The Landrover had gone and so had the girl in the tight fitting sweater as well as all the other drovers.  I pedalled off to find the mini-farmer.  It appears that there may be more than one.

If you like me want to find a mini-farmer, follow National Cycle Route 28 and they could be lurking about 3 miles east of Yealmpton.   The next cattle drive will sometime in the spring.

A HALF DAY ON DARTMOOR

30 Cyclists were attracted to the small town of Ivybridge to take part in a family ride on the edge of Dartmoor for Sustrans.  I was the organiser and there were 5 other volunteers together with a representative from Sustrans.

There was a choice of three routes, 10.5, 15 and 22 miles.  The scenery was classic edge of Dartmoor.  We cycled on quiet roads along hidden river valleys, through ancient woods, passing old farms and on the longer routes we had good views of the high moors.  Both sexes were well represented with children of all ages.

One family who took part were on holiday and wanted someone else to do the organising.  Another were worried about traffic and supported Sustrans work for cycling on quiet roads.  Some of the children looked to be future athletes.

The ride was supported by Big Peaks of Ashburton who came with a repair van and tell me that they intend to stock Sustrans maps in their shop shortly

A MORNING'S RIDE IN CRAM-CHABAN

Cram-Chaban is a commune in the Charente district of France.  It is 30km inland from La Rochelle in an area best known for its marshes, canals and picturesque houses.

It has a rustic air of gentle decay where many people have dogs and chickens.  As I cycled out of the village, my way was partly blocked by a farmer in a smart modern tractor talking to another wearing waist high waders that were held up by braces and clearly far too large for him.

The sun was warm and I wanted to know why he was wearing waders.  Much to my frustration, my question was unanswered partly because he was too busy with his discussion and partly due to my lack of speaking French.

The winding road took me through gentle countryside where most of the arable fields had been cropped.  However some maize and sunflower crops were still standing withered and dying, something else that puzzled me.

At my next village, I passed two tower windmills and came to the pharmacie where three people were talking and passing the time of day.  Two girls ambled slowly past me carrying bagettes under their arms.  On my way back I crossed a canal and a slow flowing river.  As I entered Chaban from the opposite direction, dogs barked and chickens ran around in small paddocks clucking.  Many houses had their shutters closed.  Tomatoes were still growing and autumn flowers were out.

As I went into our cottage, a mouse scuttled out and it did not seem out of place here.

RAINED OFF

My waterproofs were severely tested last weekend ........ and failed.  My friend, Jaana, and myself had planned a trip that crossed the Somerset Levels (easy but very picturesque ride), through Bristol and over the Severn Bridge to as far as we could reach in Wales on Monday.

My luck ran out with the weather.  Having had a charmed existance on my bike rides this year despite the dreadful summer, time ran out on Sunday.  We met at Taunton on Saturday and the weather was glorious.  After 12 miles on a canal tow path, we cycled on little lanes through unspoilt villages across an area of wetlands that contains no less than 32 SSSI with hosts of wildlife.

Jaana and I just enjoyed an easy day cycling 46 miles to Weston where we stopped overnight.  The forecast for Sunday was 60mph gales and heavy rain, except strangely where it was light rain where we had just come from.  Reappraising our journey over breakfast , Wales was abandoned and we chose an alternative route back to Taunton.

The gales did not happen but there was plenty of rain.  My Gore-tex jacket that has served me so well has since been waterproofed and gloves disposed of as not fit for purpose.