Street to St Briavels (long way, including detours)

DISASTER DAY. We had been feeling pretty pleased with ourselves, if a little chary about the longer day today, but of course fate is always waiting round the corner with a sock full of wet cement.

Norman is looking uncharacteristically glum when I come down for breakfast. It soon comes out that he has got an injury which means he probably can’t cycle. We go down to the local medical centre to get an informed opinion before we decide what do next, but in the event they are closed until after the weekend. We agree that I shall go on on my own for the day, and John and
Norman go looking for an A and E department in Bristol. Norman kindly writes down the points on the route for me.

To add to everything else, it’s a miserable day, coldish, windy and rainy.

Past Wells, I start to climb up along the Old Bristol Road into the Mendips. It is now so misty that visibility is down below 50 metres. The climb is very steep, and seems to go on for ever. Also the Tour de Wessex are coming in the other direction. Some of the oncoming cyclists are complete lunatics: on a narrow public road in wet weather, they are passing 3 abreast on blind corners.

In retrospect, I think that I should have bought an OS map, for the day, but the upshot of trying to navigate using a road map means that I get lot more than once. They got rid of the road signs to frustrate German invaders, or turned them round , and the locals have not felt the necessity to put them back. This means of course that John and Norman are waiting a long time to met me at the waiting point.

Next stage is the cycle across the Severn Bridge, which is really quite impressive. We agree that they will go on to meet Maggie at St Briavels, and I shall just keep pedalling until I get there, which I do, around 9 pm, as the light will soon be starting to go. Norman’s sister Maggie is waiting for us at the hospital. The Youth Hotel is actually a castle, with walls 10 feet thick, and we are put into what they call the Oubliette room, obviously by someone who didn’t know a lot about castles. Maggie, Norman and John very kindly buy a meal from the pub.

We decide that the plan is that I shall go on, with Norman offering support as required. It’s been a very long day and I’m exhausted, but feeling pretty good on the whole. I promise myself that I will never make smart comments about Norman’s direction finder again. I’ve even fallen off the bike; it’s been that sort of day.