11-22 May 2024: Brittany on two wheels (Part two)

Author: Mr & Mrs A

Friday 17 May – Josselin to Redon (75 km)

Author: Mrs A

It won’t surprise you to learn that the trend of showery weather continued after we departed Josselin. Lunch supplies were sourced from the supermarket before we left – today was going to be quite a long ride, with few options of places to stop.

The next downpour is approaching – our path east followed the left hand side of the River Oust.

Fun fact: Brittany is considered to be a Celtic Nation, along with Wales, Cornwall, Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man – In the UK there are many rivers known as the River Ouse – a derivative of
the Celtic word ‘Usa’, from *udso-, which simply means ‘water’. ‘River Ouse’ therefore means ‘River Water’. It may be that the Oust has similar origins.

This part of the river is rather picturesque, lined with trees and a perfectly smooth surface that would put British roads to shame, just fabulous riding country.

A vibrant grey, black and yellow Grey Wagtail stops for a rest from catching insects over the water
Yellow Iris lined waterways

And so our meditation continued, taking us back into the rhythm of our journey, always listening, watching for splashes, aromas of the pungent decaying leaves from last autumn’s fall tingling the nostrils, our senses constantly alert in the absence of the multitude of distractions in everyday life. The definition of a holiday.

Yes that is a boat way in the distance – the first one we have spotted on our travels. Much of the Nantes-Brest canal has not been navigable – many of the bridges were destroyed during WWII and rebuilt quickly, not allowing space for boats to pass underneath
…and another first – a Mute Swan – in the UK they are plentiful along the waterways, but here we have travelled many kilometres before seeing this, our first one in France!

Our route was diverted due to maintenance along the towpath, which added a few extra kilometres, taking us off along quiet country lanes, past sleepy farms and fields of flowers.

The bees love this mauve tansy-leaf phacelia – this is planted as a green manure to regenerate the soil. At the end of the season it will be ploughed back into the field, enriching it with nitrogen.

Our journey ended in the town of Redon, a junction point of the Oust River, which we were following, and the Vilaine, which winds north to Rennes and from there flows out into the Atlantic Ocean at Pénestin.

Dramatic skies over the marina at Redon – plenty of navigable waters means boating is quite popular
After days of traffic free riding, being confronted with large lorries and other vehicles was quite a shock to the system!

Dinner was at a delicious Cambodian and Asian restaurant, Saveurs d’Asie. As lovely as French food is, you do sometimes need a little variety and spice in your life!

Saturday 18th May – Redon to Guipry-Messac (47km)

We awoke to a strange phenomenon – a dry forecast, sunshine and lots of cyclists! Yes it was the weekend, and it seems every group of friends in Redon jumps on their bike and goes riding.

There are many circuits signposted – most starting along the River Vilaine, and then weaving off through quiet countryside. The dry weather had everyone out, and it was a joy to see.

As we wove our way to the Vilaine, we came across one cyclist who wasn’t going on towpaths. I don’t think either of us had seen a bike towing a caravan before, but if you dive down that particular Google rabbit hole, you will find quite a few articles talking about it!

Off on a different kind of adventure to us!

And so we turned north for the first time this trip, and began following the Vilaine River towards Rennes.

It was a spectacular morning, with families cruising on the river, and a lot of cyclists. None stopped for a picnic like we did though, and enjoyed a feast of a lunch with a fine view.

Our typical lunch – salad with fish and hummus, coupled with a cup of herbal tea. I carried the vinaigrette in my bike’s drink bottle holder! Superb!

It really wasn’t long before all the other cyclists had turned off and it was back to being the two of us riding along the river. When I say the two of us, I meant us and many birds. In fact so many cuckoos that I renamed our route ‘Cuckoo Valley’.

At one point along our cycle we looked up into the blue skies, spotting some huge birds circling in the warm wind currents. I looked them up – White Storks, and not a baby between them!

A long way up! White Storks looking black against the sky

We continued on our way north, relishing the dry weather.

Wildflowers galore along the water’s edge
The train from Rennes to Morlaix crossing a bridge
No waterproofs – hurrah!
Poppies starting to bloom in a field

On we rode to our destination for the day, the sleepy little village of Guipry-Messac. Or so we thought it was sleepy. It seems to be going through a bit of a revival, with some very grand houses often recently renovated, and more on their way.

We booked what looked like to be the best restaurant in town, located in the middle of the river, accessible by bridge, and after a chilled out end to the day, strolled down for our meal.

Fine dining indeed
Our first proper sunset of the trip
Our restaurant in an old water mill – there are glass tiles through which you can see the wheel turning below you

The restaurant was quite well attended, and we appeared to be the only tourists, and certainly the only non-French people there. We worked out that this village is only a 30 minute train commute into the nearest city, Rennes, and therefore would be an attractive location for those who want a little peace and quiet outside of their working life. It certainly ticked all our boxes

Sunday 19th May – Guipry-Messac to Rennes (50 km)

We farewelled our host, conveying in broken French that we regretted not being able to learn more about his beautiful home and grounds, and giving his little dog, Scot, a final cuddle before we mounted our steeds and continued our journey north.

It was another fine day, and beautiful ride. As a sunny Sunday, there were other cyclists and pedestrians about, particularly as we rode on towards Rennes.

Magnifient bridge for trains crossing
This is a rejuvenated quarry. We stopped off here after hearing bird calls which my Merlin App identified as Peregrine Falcons. A birder arrived soon after we did carrying a spotting scope, and told me he had been watching the birds for months, and they had a nest with chicks on the cliffs. He let us see the female Peregrine through his scope, sitting up in one of the trees watching us. What a special experience!

Lunch was in a picturesque location along the river on one of the many picnic benches conveniently placed. The river led us right into the centre of Rennes, after which the town had many cycleways guiding us right to our accomodation.

More fresh salad and some bread from breakfast for our lunch picnic, along with a cup of tea

Our home for the next two nights was an unusual hotel, The Magic Hall. It is a bar and restaurant too, with one large communal table for people to eat at, and people are encouraged to cook their own meals. In addition to all this, it also had a recording studio! It had a very good vibe.

Cheers!

We celebrated our arrival with a drink, before storing our bikes in the hotel and settling into our film-themed room. All of the rooms had a different theme, and ours was predominantly Pulp Fiction based, with photography from the film framed around the walls.

We strolled into town to find some dinner, spotting an Asian-themed Poke Bowl and Bao Bun takeaway spot. Just what we fancied. As soon as we arrived, the heavens literally opened, turning the streets into rivers and sending people dashing under umbrellas and into stores. We settled down the enjoy our food.

Looking out into the very wet courtyard – raining in Rennes – what a surprise!

Monday 20th May – A day in Rennes (15km walked)

One of the great challenges in France seems to be finding a business open, there seems to be few chances to spend money with anyone. This warm, sunny Monday morning was just like this.

Rennes – the city that sleeps!
Lovely cobbled streets and very few people

Rennes is the capital city of Brittany. Like so many of the villages and towns we had cycled through, it is known for its medieval half-timbered houses, and the grand Rennes Cathedral.

Magnificent cathedral

The city is home to 66,000 students, with the 8th largest university in France, and the overall vibe is young and modern. It is one of France’s ‘silicon valley’s’ considered a centre of technical innovation, and has been voted the most liveable city in France. We loved how some of the old architecture had been melded with the ultra modern in an arty and interesting way which didn’t feel at odds with the historical centre.

Part of the old city wall which has been integrated with the growing centre
Part of the university emerges from this old church building, with rotating mirror windows that catch the sunlight and send beams across the courtyard

Quintin, one of the hotel managers (an expat who grew up near Exeter in Devon, UK but who has lived in France for most of his adult life) told us that cars were moved out of the city in 2020, and the bicycle became the primary mode of transport, along with the metro and travelling on foot. It was lovely to stroll around cobbled streets without motor vehicles, no fear of being run down or our ears assaulted with the roar of engines after our days of the sounds of nature.

Parc du Thabor is in the centre of the city – once the domain of monks with no access to the everyday person, today it is a beautiful park full of water features, mature trees, and stunning rose gardens. They also had an aviary, mostly visited by excited children who delighted in poking sticks through the cage for the (mostly Australian – cockatiels, rosellas, budgerigars, zebra finches and so on) birds to land on. 

Reflecting on Rennes
Parc du Thabor is a place of serenity – many flowers and a newly fledged blue tit chick being fed by busy parents

We marvelled at how many people were in the park, and why they were not at lectures or working on this Monday morning. A quick Google search revealed it was a public holiday, one of many in France, this one to mark Whit Monday (celebrating the ‘birth’ of the Christian church). It also semi-explained why all the shops were closed (I say semi, as the opening hours often excluded Monday anyhow!).

We finished our visit to Rennes with dinner at a seafood restaurant, served by a waiter who delighted in telling all visitors how good their French was (even if it was terrible!).

Oysters as an entree – very tasty indeed

Tuesday 21 May: Rennes to Morlaix by train, then Morlaix to Roscoff by bike…or not for Mr A (28.5 km cycled)

We farewelled the friendly folk at The Magic Hall, and rode off towards Rennes train station, from which we had booked a train to take us and our bikes back to Morlaix, and from there we would cycle back to Roscoff for our final night.

The first 500 metres went without issue, but then we heard a loud ‘crack’ and Mr A could no longer pedal his bike. The carbon belt (instead of a metal chain), had snapped! What a nightmare!

Uh-oh, no more cycling til this can be replaced

I quickly got onto Google to see whether there was a bike shop nearby, and rode off to ask whether they could help. Mark soon scooted behind me, and they checked the size. Unfortunately they had the next size up, but not the one we needed.

On the way to the station there was another shop, so I rode off to buy lunch for the train journey, while Mr A scooted the bike to the next shop. Unfortunately we were unlucky again. It would take 2 days to order one in. We were ferrying back to the UK tomorrow, so could not wait. So we headed to the train.

Boarding the train was not as awful as we anticipated, with our pre booked large cycle space allowing our bikes to be stored level – far better than the ridiculous tiny space on UK trains where you have to hook your heavy bikes up somehow.

This is how bikes should be carried on trains – they even had their own seatbelt

The journey was spent translating and sending messages to all the bike shops in Morlaix in the hope they might have a spare belt there. Annoyingly, the message was the same – it would take 2-3 days for the right size belt to arrive.

We got to Morlaix and spoke to the taxi drivers at the station, but none of them was willing to carry a heavy e-bike to Roscoff. I then noticed a load of Europcar hire vans parked on the other side of the station. Perhaps we could hire one of those? We found the hire shop, conveniently right opposite the station, complete with staff who could speak English fluently. Mr A hired a van for 90 minutes for €50 and took off with his bike in the back.

It was another sunny afternoon, so rather than drive the final stage, I jumped on my bike and rode to Roscoff.

My view as I rode into Roscoff

Mr A arrived back in Roscoff by bus some time later, and we sat down by the harbour in a bar with outside seating for a calming beverage. Phew. That was a stressful day, but we had made it!

Our harbour side view – even on a Tuesday evening it was busy with people playing pétanque and enjoying the warm weather

Roscoff is a very sweet fishing village, which also is home to the Brittany Ferries port to Plymouth and Ireland. It was bustling on this warm, sunny evening, but we were so tired from our day, we skipped dinner and went to our sea-view room to relax.

Wednesday 22 May – Roscoff to Plymouth – the end of the trip

It was an early start, with Mr A scooting his bike to the port at 7am, and me following shortly later under pedal-power. Cyclists boarded first, and we were soon on our way back across the English Channel to the UK, an easy end to a superb holiday.

Getting ready to leave the ferry at Plymouth

Reflections on an amazing cycling adventure in Brittany by Mr A

“Ah ….the serenity”..is a famous line from an Australian movie called The Castle, and is contentedly uttered breathlessly by one of the main characters. Now I use the phrase, like many other Australians, in moments of bliss, where life is at a slow pace, stress free and often when in nature.

For me this is the essence of what this trip meant to me. Take noisy combustion engined vehicles out of your holiday equation, and what you experience around you fundamentally alters. Then slow down your viewing to that of about three times your walking speed. Fast enough to propel you through a variety of different landscapes, slow enough to allow you to stop whenever something catches your eye, ears or nose. This is cycle touring, and I love it.

Then you add in a traffic free cycling infrastructure, that Brittany (and the rest of mainland Europe) has a plethora of, and you have an almost endless set of well marked paths (the Eurovelo network) on which to explore this fascinating continent. Someone else has already done the route finding for you, diversions labelled to point you to sustenance, or accomodation that you won’t find on Booking.com. To see this almost endless set of touring possibilities opened up, just a ferry ride away, is totally amazing and feeds the wanderlust that has always fuelled our pleasure centres.

Finally, the holiday for me created memories I will value of people we connected with because we were staying in guest houses and small privately owned hotels. For instance, the couple who had moved from the industrial heart of England to the rural depths of Britanny, purchasing a friend’s boutique canal-side hotel, neither having ever been in the hospitality business before. Bold move right? No going back once you jump into a much cheaper property market (as we have also done). Or the guy running another small hotel, who I was a little intrigued about, and observed to as we left (thanks to Google Translate), “I wonder what your story is?”. That night he took the time and trouble (and trust) to share via long text what that story was. Very moving, and inspiring actually.

Strangers intersecting on their life paths, and learning a little of each other on the way, perhaps changing their own views a little as a result. For me this is a wonderful element to this type of holiday, and so different to our city break type trips. I’ve enjoyed the latter, but am left feeling a little like “did we really touch and feel this place?”, after a few days of dashing round the sights, staying in big anonymous hotels. With cycle touring, the possibility to really get an insight into the country is so different.

So thats my two penny’s worth on the trip.

Things may have been challenging at times, but we both had a superb time, worked well together to solve problems, and are looking forward to planning our next adventure. Thank you for joining us on this one!

11-22 May 2024: Brittany on two wheels (Part one)

Author: Mr and Mrs A

Location: Plymouth, UK and Brittany, France

We have just arrived home from a superb ten days exploring Brittany by e-bike. Day after day of riding along stunning canals, lined with yellow flag irises, the cacophony of birdsong from the multitude of wrens, cuckoos, woodpeckers, blackbirds, robins and more accompanying the crunch of gravel as our wheels turned. At almost every bend in the river or canal we were welcomed by the heady scent of May tree blossom, a perfume so powerful we never failed to turn and admire the small white flowers. And yes, it rained, but the sun shone too, and we really appreciated those warm rays when they came.

The initial dream for this trip came from Mr A, after he had returned from a 10 day adventure with our friend Owen, cycling from Roscoff to Saint-Brieuc in Brittany late last September. They both returned gushing with stories of the people they had met, the incredible food and stunning weather which accompanied them on their trip.

In January this year, the winter weather dreary and wet, our hearts heavy with the loss of Tassie, Mr A and I sat at our kitchen bench, booked our ferry tickets to France, with the intention of repeating at least some of the adventure they undertook. We set about planning our route and accommodation. May, we thought, will be the sunniest month, the spring flowers, the birds, it will be perfect.

Yes, the adventure was to be on pedal-assisted bikes – these are not mopeds, we have to pedal to get the help from the motors, cheating in the eyes of some cycling purists, but for us, it means we actually get out there and see the world on two wheels AND enjoy the process. The only way to go!

Saturday 11 May – Plymouth, Devon, UK

And so finally we found ourselves in Plymouth. We parked the car in a secure space, and loaded the bikes with our panniers, and took off into town for an explore before dinner. The weather was glorious, and the waterside absolutely packed with semi-naked people enjoying the weather and making the most of the outside seating at the many pubs along there. We stopped for a drink, chatting with a couple from Cornwall, just a few miles down the road.

Dinner had been booked at a seafood restaurant in a very salubrious area of Plymouth, the newly gentrified Royal William Yard, a collection of Grade I listed buildings which were formerly Royal Navy supply yards, built in 1825. It shone out as a jewel in Plymouth, particularly on this sunny evening.

Yup – all our clothes, toiletries, stove and picnic gear – even a table – are in these panniers!
It was a Provence Rose kind of evening

After dinner, we jumped on the bikes and rode a short way to Brittany Ferries, where we were soon boarded, and holed up in our cabin for the overnight sailing.

A fine sunset to see us off

Sunday 12 May – Roscoff to Morlaix, Brittany (39 km)

Author: Mr A

And we’re on tour! We left Plymouth last night and took the overnight ferry to Roscoff in Brittany, to kick off 11 days cycle touring around this fabulous part of France.

Initially we are following the route Owen and I did last September, but then continuing on further south down the Nantes – Brest canal and then over to the regions capital, Remmes.

Well it got off to a good start, with a smooth crossing, although with a 4.30 alarm this morning to get us docked by 5, it felt like a long day already.

And. we have touchdown in France (after 3 hours of very broken sleep!)
A glorious sunrise to welcome us to France as we ride straight from the ferry onto the cycle trail
Quiet country lanes escort us around the coast
A sea mist soon rolls in, obscuring the sun
Boats along the coast look like they are almost flying, as sea and sky combine

We had a very easy ride around the coast though, stopping to snag the last baguette in a little village shop for a picnic brunch with a view across the Morlaix estuary, and quickly followed by a cheeky nap on a bench.

We cycled in past this rather grand marina on the Morlaix River

We were soon in Morlaix itself, a town Owen and I had really liked. It doesn’t feel over touristed in this part of Brittany, and everyone is very welcoming.

The town of Morlaix is dominated by a huge granite railway viaduct, built in just 2 years (1861-63) by 2,000 workers.
We found a path that led us across the viaduct, giving a fabulous unique view of the town
Half timbered houses from the 16th Century line many of Morlaix’s streets

The sun made a showing, so it was a no rush lunch with a delicious big salad. Everything always tastes just so fresh here. Two sales, one ice cream, a beer and lite bottle of water all for less than 40 Euros.

Our home for the night, a gorgeous old manor house in its own private grounds, and very grand rooms with a fab brekky. All for the princely sum of 125 Euros! Great value here.

We slept really well!

Monday 13 May – Morlaix to Rostrenen (82 km)

Author: Mrs A

Rain greeted us as soon as we awoke, and did not stop all day. This was to be our longest day of riding, also the hilliest with a few rail trails alongside the canal towpaths. I will not lie, it was tough, and I really felt my 50% closed airway on the half a kilometre of climbing!

We left Morlaix, sourcing ourselves a fresh baguette on the way out, the kindly baker cutting it in half so we could stow it away in a waterproof pannier. It was not long before we were on traffic-free pathways. The stress of vehicles in poor visibility removed, we were free to concentrate on avoiding potholes and keeping upright in the somewhat slippery conditions.

Mr A enjoying a downhill segment of an old railway
Sheltering under a bridge for a drink break – still smiling!

We were in as much waterproof protection as possible, right down to our socks, but it was no match to the heavy precipitation which endured throughout the day. Fortunately it was not cold, and we still managed to smile through the damp and have a superb ride through the countryside.

Our typical view as we cycled the towpaths, very few people out in this weather, but anyone we did see always calling out “Bonjour” with a wry smile

Our destination for the night was a canalside house near the village Rostrenen. Thankfully our host was well aware that on a Monday night there was no food to be purchased, so had offered to cook for us.

We arrived late afternoon, finding an ex-pat Brit running the B&B, who is also a cycling fanatic. He was very forgiving of our dripping state, helped us hose off our muddy bags and bikes, and set up drying racks for our jackets and trousers. We had really fallen on our feet.

Postcards in the reception area give some suggestion as to what we might have seen on a blue-sky day

Dinner was served after we had showered and changed into dry clothes, our room strewn with all our wet stuff, attempting to dry them over radiators and towel rails. We shared a bottle of wine with our host, as he shared tales of how he and his wife had ended up in France.

After a long day, we turned in for the night, I just about glimpsed a tinge of pink in the clouds as I drew the curtains…the sun was setting and had even shown its face for the occasion. Hopefully the next day would be a little drier.

Tuesday 14th May – Rostrenen to Pontivy (60 km)

Author: Mrs A

Sunshine!

The day started off with 15 minutes of sunshine…followed by 30 minutes of rain…which pretty much set off the trend for the day. After yesterday’s soaking however, we were happy to accept any amount of dry time!

We had not long left our accommodation before we stumbled across our first challenge – a tree down across the path. We consulted with a couple of local walkers, who said it must have fallen overnight, and with the help of Google, I plotted a short diversion via quiet lanes. Problem quickly solved.

The sunny spells gradually got a bit longer, and at times during the day we even left off our waterproofs – only having to stop a short while later to put them back on!

Our ride continued along the Nantes-Brest canal, weaving its way past locks and old lock-keeper cottages. Wagtails seemed to guide us along our path, flitting in and out of the trees, landing on the floor just ahead of us, only to repeat the process again. You could not help but absorb their joy.

Brightly coloured Foxgloves offer a break from the multitude of greens

We were not far from our destination for the day, Pontivy, when I spotted something interesting on the other side of the water – an otter! It also spotted us and dove under the water, only to pop up right in front of us, then disappear into the riverbank before I could grab the camera. I will never forget seeing that beady eye and twitching whiskers as it gave a final kick and disappeared into the undergrowth.

An otter lives here!

Pontivy is a small town, like Morlaix, full of half-timbered buildings, but unlike Morlaix, only a few places to eat and drink. And eating and drinking was on our minds once we had arrived at our hotel, as we were meeting our friends from Wales, Lauris and Ed. They were on holiday in France, and had diverted their journey to come and meet us for an evening.

We stored our bikes in the hotel’s secure garage, and after a quick freshen up joined our friends for drinks and nibbles before a superb dinner in a restaurant just down the road. I had booked it online, using Google translate to explain my dairy-free dietary requirements (a strange concept in butter-filled northern France!), and their chef was well prepared to make me a delicious meal without milk. Amazing. A fun night out.

Wednesday 15 May: Pontivy to Josselin (54 km)

Author: Mrs A

We had breakfast with our friends, before packing up for our day’s ride. We started off a little dusty after our late night, but soon blew the cobwebs away as we got back into the rhythm of riding.

The freedom of having everything with you and simply following a cycle trail means your mind has a moment to drift and absorb everything around you. It’s such an exhilarating feeling, knowing you are safe from traffic, and instead free to smell, hear, observe and absorb life along the canal.

About mid-day we passed the point where Mr A and Owen had turned left. We were now on new territory for both of us.

A Grey Heron takes flight as we ride past
Mr A and Owen took the rigol d’Hivern (Hilvern channel – built to funnel water into the Nantes-Brest Canal) towards Saint-Brieuc at this point

The weather had improved to the point where the sunny periods were longer than the rain, but we kept those waterproofs handy, as when the clouds decided to leak, it was pretty heavy!

Before long we began seeing a few more cyclists and dog walkers along the path, always a sure sign we are approaching a settlement, and lo and behold, we had arrived at Josselin.

Josselin Castle, quite a magnificent sight as we arrive into town

We’d not eaten lunch, and arriving at 2:30pm had low expectations on finding any food. All the cafes in town, even the one kebab shop, were closed, so we rode out to the supermarket and picked up a few bits and pieces for a picnic.

At 5pm we were able to check into our accommodation for the evening, set in one of Josselin’s largest houses, with a covered deck out the back where we could charge up the bike batteries and keep them dry.

Thursday 16 May – Day off riding in Josselin

Back in January when we were planning this trip, we had done a bit of reading about our destinations, and felt Josselin might be a good place to stop for two nights. Carrying limited clothes means we had to do some washing, so this was the spot to do it.

Our hostess loaned us drying rack which we left undercover while we explored the small town and found ourselves some lunch. Brittany is well known for its buckwheat crêpes, both sweet and savoury, so we found ourselves a local cafe with lunch specials, and settled down. The crêpes are usually made with butter, but I asked politely and the chef used oil for mine instead. It was very delicious and light, served with cooked tomatoes, anchovies and salad.

Excuse the untidy hair – here was lunch!

After lunch I approached another restaurant in town to see whether we could book a table for that evening. There were two 5-star restaurants in Josselin, and we had eaten at the other one the previous evening. I gave notice of my dairy-intolerance and was shocked when the chef exclaimed “Non!”. They would rather not have either of us to dinner than be flexible with the menu. So no booking there. Instead, we made a reservation at the same spot as last night, La Table d’O – previous winners of the Best Restaurant in Brittany, and well deserved too.

There was more exploring to be done. First of all, I climbed the church tower to get a magnificent view of the town and surroundings.

The church is right in the centre of the village, and the last place to see the sun at sunset – as seen from our bedroom window
And looking back at our accommodation from the top of the church tower
And an aerial view of our next destination for the day, Josselin Castle
Top: Proof of life – after the exhausting climb up the narrow spiral staircase – Left: looking up into the spire Right: Looking down at the town hall

I met Mr A back down on the cobbled streets and we made our way towards the picturesque Josselin Castle. I tried to purchase a tour in English, but apparently the translator was not working that day, so instead we did a short self tour, using the information boards in English.

Parts of Josselin Castle date back to 1008, but most of the current castle is from the late 1300s As soon as you walk in there is a rather spooky museum of dolls and puppets, which we whizzed through and out into the magnificent gardens.

The English Garden – full of roses and Foxgloves of every colour
The door to nowhere – this tower was once a part of defensive walls, now long gone
Sitting alongside the River Oust, the provides is a commanding view, its fairytale towers majestically dominating the local scenery

The castle is still being lived in by one of the original family members – a thousand years of occupancy. Those floors are of course inaccessible to tourists. We tried to learn what the occupant does for a living, but other than being a senator, we learned little.

Our visit to Josselin concluded with a superb dinner at La Table d’O, with delicious food and a magnificent view of the castle as the sun set.

I even got a dairy-free dessert! Mr A had a cheese platter, and they kindly took a photo of us both with the castle view

Tomorrow we were off again. I know we were both excited to get away again, some freshly clean clothes, rested legs and recharged bikes. What adventures, sights, sounds and smells would lay ahead of us? We would soon discover…

19-21 April 2024: Meandering over Exmoor – one man and his bike

Author: Mr A

Location: Exmoor National Park, Somerset and north Devon, UK

As Catherine was away, I headed for the hills in the company of Brutus. No jumping to conclusions please, he’s my (admittedly very handsome) electric bike. Loaded up with camping gear he was looking especially beefy.

Brutus in his element ..wandering the road less travelled

We live a short (30km) ride from Exmoor National Park, and this trip to explore it a little of it on the bike had been postponed numerous times, thanks to the wettest 18 months here in the UK since records began! But, with the glass half full, as I set off everywhere was a bright shimmering green, and the forecast was no rain for the weekend. It started raining shortly after I set off, just to poke the finger, but after that there was only the strong, bitingly cold headwind to contend with.

I nearly turned around when the rain started, but couldn’t face all that wasted time sorting and packing gear for nothing. So pressed on, with a free and easy approach to using the batteries (yes..plural, he’s packing double), knowing there were cafes ahead for recharging the bike, and me.

We live very close to one of the National Cycle (NC) routes that, in more prosperous times, were designated and mapped across the country. “Active transport” as our government call it. The government is so supportive of us hitting our climate goals…they just halved the budget for cycling, walking tracks. Excellent (sarcasm, for our US readers).

The network we do have largely follows the real rural back roads, of which we have plenty. One of the long distance cycle routes, NC3, runs very close to our house, and winds its way on almost exclusively single track roads up to the gateway town for Exmoor; Dulverton.

There’s only one cafe in town and I made my usual offer to “pay for power” along with my food. No one has ever taken me up on it, until now. I found £4 had been added to the bill, with no discussion of amount. Quite cheeky I thought. Anyway, off I pottered after a breakfast fit for “used to be a champion, now just an old man on a bike”, and stuck Brutus into turbo for the infamous steep climb up onto the moors. I have no shame about using the “I’m no hero” lowest gear as well. I didn’t weigh my camping gear, but there would have to be 15-20 kg with clothes, food and water. Brutus’s fighting weight with the dual batteries…32 kg. He’s no flyweight.

A track with a view – spot the Exmoor Ponies ahead

The scenery got spectacular very quickly once I was up out on the tops, still on NC3. It’s called the Ridge Road, and guess what, that’s right, plenty of fine views across Somerset and north Devon. Undulating but manageable, I later found out that I had climbed over a 1,000 metres before reaching camp a couple of hours later. “But you have an electric bike”, I hear you scoff. But it isn’t a moped, I retort somewhat defensively. You do have to actually provide some of the energy. I looked at the stats later and it would seem to lug a 33 kilo bike with around 15-20 kg of gear, food and water a kilometer up, the bike was providing two thirds of the effort, and me the other third. That third felt hard.

The gorse was in full flower, a sunny accompaniment to an overcast sky

But a pub beckoned, funny how do they that right, it’s like a homing beacon, one I have thankfully been able to activate successfully on multiple occasions since making the move back here from Australia. Home for the night was to be the pub garden in my little Norman No Mates tent. Fine by me. Now the pub is worth a bit of attention in case you are passing that way. It’s called the Politmore Arms, not to be confused with the Politmore Inn, which I nearly ended up at by mistake, after several confusing phone calls trying to discuss their camping field.

Home for the night – not the picnic table – the ground, yes had packed up my tent.

The Arms was an absolute score on the quirky and friendly front. It had no phone, no mains power, no card machine, so all cash. Pretty much off grid. But by early evening it was packed. I’m guessing around a 100 customers, a pizza oven brought by one of the regulars, and a band. I got free use of the garden and the toilets. Cracking deal. If you find yourself riding, driving, walking over that way, please call in. You will find yourself, as I vaguely remember doing, gazing up at one of the darkest skies in England. Dartmoor is actually a “Dark Sky reserve”, with almost no light pollution, just stunning.

Stark moorland gives way to rolling green hills as I head towards the coast

The next day dawned very cold (note: after 25 years living in Australia I call any temperature measured in centigrade that doesn’t have two numbers in it …flippin’ brass monkeys!). It was an early off to get some blood pumping and warm up. Destination for the night a campsite (with showers!) just outside the little village of Porlock near the stunning coast. The ride there was, I would say, about the best day ride I have ever had. A glorious blue sky, the gorse in full bloom, and hardly a car in sight. I stopped for breakfast in a little village, Withypool, with a picture postcard bridge and sparkling river. Oh, and of course a decent tea room. I have a homing beacon for those as well.

You can lead a horse to water…

The next and only other village that day, was Exford, I was on a mission so rode straight through muttering to myself “Look away from the tea shop”. By mid afternoon I was glad to be hitting the campsite (…mmm, hot showers).

Tent all set up, I headed out on the, bike for a short downhill run to Porlock Weir, an old fishing port, hence the downhill bit. A beer, and back to my bed for another cold (single figures, yes) night.

Watery perfection – quite like the Mediterranean, don’t you think?

Brutus was up for an early start, so all packed up I pushed the ‘on’ button…and waited…not like him to be tardy…nothing. Absolutely dead. After some fiddling around I worked out the larger of his two batteries had what the manual called in German “Zee bad message” – the flashing lights of doom. Poor lad. Now it’s Sunday morning, early, but just in case I sent a text to the bike shop mechanic I bought it from (EDEMO) and got a message stright back! Amazing people there. They talked me through a couple of checks and it was no go. So unloaded my gear, stored by the kind campsite folks, and rode the slightly more spritely fellah towards home on the little battery. I needed a recharge though, lunch beckoned in another little fishing village called Watchet.

Now, I thought it was unusually busy, after noticing several signs informing that there was “No walk ins”. What was going on in usually sleepy Watchet? You could guess all day long and without using a search engine never be right.

Watchet Duck Race..photo from Photographer George Ody.…I managed to miss this thrilling start

A duck race. Yellow plastic ducks…down the river that runs through the town. Bless Somerset. We’ve seen a few weird and wonderful races in the Outback, usually involving unsuspecting live animals, but plastic ducks, priceless.

So that was the trip, hope you enjoyed the armchair ride with Brutus and I. Only read on if gear is your thing. Er, not that sort of gear….camping/touring equipment. Otherwise, thank you for joining me in spirit on my wander round Exmoor.

Trip stats: 2,090 meters climbed, 157 km cycled, 55 hours and 32 minutes cycling time. If you a Komoot user find tour on this link

The gear locker…

Firstly, the bags. I do love a good bag. And Ortleib is my weapon of choice. Last year I decided to upsize to the “plus” back rollers, to accomodate the camping gear. Thanks to Steve Tucker (fellow Riese & Müller owner) at SJS Cycles in Bridgewater. They have an incredible range of accessories.

Sleep system was my still unused in anger Terra Nova AS (all seasons) shelter. Weighs in at a touch over 1.7kg, so not exactly minimalist, but I had seen what Exmoor could suddenly produce weather wise (washed out in my old MSR Hubba Hubba) and felt this was a tent that could deal with almost anything, other than snow loading.

So you’d think I would have been smarter with the sleeping bag…but no. I took my new Enlightened Equipment quilt, rated down to zero degrees C. Well whoever gave it that rating was built very differently to me. Nowhere near warm enough, and that item will be consigned to summer (we will get one right?). The Thermarest down head pillow was on its first outing and loved it. Mattress was the Big Agnes Rapide Insulated (R value 4). It just wasn’t radiating enough heat for me, but very comfy. With a different bag it would have been fine.

Cooking system was the trusty MSR Windburner, essentially just for boiling water, then an X plate and mug etc. Nothing complicated in my culinary repertoire.

Not much else of interest, other than lots of warm clothes and waterproofs. And a trowel…just in case…never leave home without your trowel.

19 February- 31 March: Oh Vienna! And a big birthday….

Author: Mrs A

Location: Bradford-on-Tone, Somerset, Vienna, Austria and London, UK

The end of February saw a frenzy of activity as painting, electrics and flooring were all coordinated to complete our newest room of the house, our home bar! When we bought the house, this room had been accessed only via the garage, and was used as an office. We have moved the office to a new space and wondered what we would do with it.

A few inspired thoughts, and the access point to the room was moved to near the kitchen, the window removed and replaced with bi-fold doors, the strip lighting, shelves and desks extracted (reused in the garage and loft)…and voila, Bad Cat’s Bar was born!

We immediately hosted an evening with drinks and nibbles for a few neighbours and friends who had been a part of the team to help create it.

The newest bar in the village!

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The first of March saw us heading off to London for the night in advance of our flight to Vienna, Austria. We found a superb Thai restaurant in the basement of a pub, run by a Thai family, very unexpected, and incredibly delicious. Duck pancakes, soft-shell crab and more…it beat us!

The following day we headed off to Heathrow Airport and boarded our flight to Austria. It all went without a hitch and soon we were checking into our hotel. I had been invited to the city as a guest of doctors at Vienna University who were hosting an event for thoracic, ENT and respiratory physicians. The medical fraternity is only recently dipping its toe into representing the voice of patients, and given my experience with this disease and involvement with so many of the doctors with research, I am fortunate to have been invited in that role.

It was a fabulous conference – while it was mostly scientific in its nature, with little I could take back and present to patients, it was a superb opportunity to network with doctors and spread the word about offering support to their patients. My presentation went well on Friday, and I was lucky it was just before the lunch break, so I had a lot of opportunity to chat to interested people afterwards. Many business cards were exchanged, and promises of more research to be conducted into airway stenosis soon. I look forward to being a part of those conversations.

Meeting up with old friends from the USA, Dr Alexander Gelbard (Vanderbilt University) and Dr Alexander Hillel (Johns Hopkins Medicine) – yes they make those doctors tall in the US!

*

Soon it was Friday night, and the conference was over for me. I returned back to the hotel to freshen up ready for dinner and cocktails, joining our friends and neighbours from Bradford-on-Tone, Jim and Lucy. They had flown out to join us for the weekend and were ready waiting with Mr A in the bar with a glass of crisp fresh Grüner Veltliner.

We had a fun night out, visiting one of Vienna’s funkiest bars, The Krypt, for cocktails and laughs until the adrenaline crash appeared around midnight and we had to go home!

A very cool bar, 21 metres underground, a mass of marble, stone and nooks and crannies – we liked it!

Mr A had taken care of the weekend’s planning, as it was all part of my birthday present. How convenient that we were in Vienna?! So Saturday morning began with a walking tour around Vienna’s most picturesque buildings. If you have not been to Vienna, then you will not realise that every single building in the city is attractive, right down to the one that houses McDonald’s!

Jim, Lucy and Mr A stroll though an ornate arcade
One of many embellished ceilings – no peeling paint here
And yes, this is the building that houses Vienna’s McDonald’s
Sisi Museum Hofburg Wien – on this glorious spring morning, we did not go in, simply admired the grandeur of the surroundings
Marble staircases encased in glass with never ending ostentatious archways
Is it a bird? Is it a plane?… I honestly cannot recall, but it was really interesting!

Mr A’s walking tour took us across town, allowing us to admire many stunning buildings on our way to our lunch location, the Naschmarkt. This colourful location is home to Vienna’s food market, and a street full of every cuisine you could imagine, as well as fresh produce ranging from tanks of olive oil and balsamic vinegar to crispy nuts and cakes of every flavour.

Yum! A food lover’s dream come true!

We found ourselves a sunny corner on a table outside a Turkish restaurant, and settled in for the long haul.

Are we getting suntans in spring?!

The afternoon and evening continued in a similar vein, with superb scenery and delicious food. Mr A had excelled himself in his booking of the best places, with Saturday night a fabulous 6 course Italian degustation in a tiny restaurant with just 5 tables and service like we were dining at a friend’s house.

Fine dining from start to finish, including a dairy-free dessert for me! Wow!

*

Sunday morning was my birthday-with-a-zero, and Mr A proposed we actually go for breakfast for a change. I did wonder why, given I don’t really eat breakfast…and all became clear when the staff brought out a bottle of bubbles and everyone sang to me! What a surprise!

Cheers! Some of us decided to water it down with orange juice in recognition of the early hour!

Our next event of the morning was a short walk away, the the Spanish Riding School. It is something I had always wanted to see in person, the incredible dancing horses always included as part of the pomp and ceremony in royal events of my childhood.

No photos allowed of the Lipizzaner horses, but I managed a snap of the magnificent venue before they started. We had great seats!

It is an Austrian institution dedicated to the preservation of classical dressage and the training of Lipizzaner horse (cross breed between Iberian and Arabian horses) – even the ornate venue dates back to the early 1700’s. We sat enthralled as immaculate horses led by their trainers walked on the spot, delicately danced their way around the stadium and defied gravity to jump and clap their hooves together mid air. Just blew us away! Bucket list item ticked off!

A cup of tea and apple strudel followed for the dairy-eaters, a vegan cake for me, and an afternoon at the art gallery.

Chocolate cherry cake – so rich it lasted me three days!

For our final evening in Vienna, Mr A had booked us a table at a Japanese restaurant. Boasting an amazing and well deserved reputation, we were treated to a huge menu of options, ranging from the more unusual sea urchin through to more traditional Katsu dishes. It was a first for Jim and Lucy, cuisine wise, and for us a long time since we had anything this good. A great birthday dinner choice!

Dinner is a winner!

We concluded our time in Vienna with drinks in our hotel bar, a night-cap to finalise our time in this beautiful city. We had such a good time with Jim and Lucy, barely pausing for breath between laughs, it was a superb birthday.

The motley crew the barman saw!

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Returning back down to earth in the UK we were treated to a cold snap, and once again our garden and countryside was transformed into a magical fairyland by the snow! It was very short lived, with the following day turning out with sunshine and temperatures in the teens, quickly melting any last signs.

Snow!
And just like that it’s all gone again!

And so here was I thinking all the birthday malarkey was all done and dusted, when at 1pm the following Friday the doorbell rings. I opened the door, expecting yet another piece of biking or outdoor gear for Mr A to have been delivered, and lo and behold, there’s my sister, Helen!

Surprise!!! Yes it certainly was!

I settled in to a weekend of sister-time, a Friday night movie, brunch at Sheppy’s and a stroll around our village in the rain…the stroll that seemed to never end. In fact I started to think Helen hadn’t had enough sleep as she made me head back to the church for a third time in the drizzle…

Finally we got home to find why she had been delaying me, as my mum strolled down the stairs with a beaming smile on her face! A huge shock, given mum had not until this point made it to our new home as she was busy being carer to her poorly husband.

The excitement did not end then, with the doorbell constantly ringing, and in walking my cousin Karen and husband Iain, cousin Ian and wife Caroline, brother Alex, friends over from Devon, Karen and Dan, and Jim and Lucy arrived to join in the fun too!

Surprise after surprise as guests arrived

Mr A had organised catering from a local business, Conrad’s Kitchen – a veritable seafood feast, with fresh crab, lobster, languistine, king prawns, cold meats, salad, potatoes, bread and more. Just incredible. Friend Karen, who not only works full time for the NHS and is mum to pre-teen twin boys baked two delicous cakes! Amazing!

We finished off the weekend by dusting ourselves off post a huge egg and bacon brunch and heading off to the river for a walk to blow the cobwebs away. A superb weekend – well done to Mr A for all his hard work and to all our friends and relatives for keeping such a big secret!

Helen, cousin Karen and Jenny

A week’s worth of sheet and towel washing was worth all the fun and laughter (I seem to recall a TikTok clip being made at one stage!!) and awesome memories made.

*

Life returned somewhat to ‘normal’ after that, with gardening and household jobs, plus a trip up to London for more injections in to my airway. After last year’s chaos of never ending operations, it seems (‘touch-wood’) that my airway is finally stabilising and the injections are working again! Thank goodness – an operation every other month just was not sustainable. Fingers are thoroughly crossed that this trend continues – 6 weeks of easy breathing so far…

I walked to my appointment the long way – through Little Italy and via the Portobello Road Market

*

March winds and April showers bring forth May flowers, according to a proverb from the 1800s, so we hope that is true, as the end of March has been very wet and windy. Fortunately for us we can be flexible with our schedule, so as soon as the sun shines we get out and about. We did a stunning 36km return cycle along the Taunton Canal, spotting a vibrant little kingfisher shooting up and down the waterway and a cute female roe deer bounding through the fields.

All this and more on our doorstep – we love Somerset!

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With a small inheritance from my grandma we purchased a Cider Gum in her memory – a Tasmanian eucalyptus tree. We plan to keep it from growing ‘too big’ but enough to hide the view of some of the nearby houses, the scented leaves bringing back great memories of the Australian bush, while the name seeming to be fitting with our new home in cider-country!

We finished the month by getting awnings installed over our big glass windows – enough to give us some shade from the hot southern sun, while not blocking the view from inside. We shall probably never see the sun again! They are also able to be used in light rain, therefore giving us a dry outdoor space for summer barbecues. Lots of options ahead.

Unwrapping the tree, and Mr A enjoying the first beer under the new awning in the rain

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I’m going to finish off with a little plea for help.

I have been invited to represent airway stenosis patients at the European Laryngological Society’s 14th Congress in Milan, Italy in June. This is an incredible opportunity, and I jumped at the chance and accepted the invitation.

Unfortunately, despite pleading with them, they have a policy of not sponsoring admission, travel costs or accommodation, even for volunteer patients!

I’ve attempted to find corporate sponsorship too, but as I am not a registered charity, have hit dead ends there too.

So I am now trying to raise money for…

£660 (750 Euro): Entry to congress – 3 days – I plan to attend all sessions relevant to airway stenosis and take notes where I believe patients can learn something useful
£100 (110 Euro): Congress dinner – a great networking opportunity, and something I would pay for myself
£240: Return flights from Bristol Airport to Milan
£210: Parking at Bristol Airport
£900: Accommodation – estimating it will cost about £225 a night based on the Congress website’s recommended hotels near the venue – if it is more I will cover the additional cost

Total: £2010 (excluding the dinner) – rounded down to £2,000.

Of course, there will be additional expenses including taxis, petrol, food and so on, but I will cover those costs myself.

I hate asking for money as I know everyone is stretched and gives so much to other causes, but I do hope you can spare a little. Even a small donation will help add up to the total amount. If you can help at all, the link is to be found here: Catherine Anderson GoFundMe

Thank you so much in advance.

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5 Jan-18 Feb 2023: The one year anniversary of starting ‘Life-2.0’ in the UK

Author: Mr A

Twelve months ago on the 2nd of the 2nd 2022 (a hard to forget date, even for me), we stepped off a plane from Sydney and showed our passports at Heathrow Airport. We had one way tickets…a fairly committing thought I can tell you.

Farewell Sydney, we headed ‘up over’! – this was us 12 months ago, in January 2022

Reflecting back, we’ve come so far, even my grand-kids recognise me! Old friendships have been rekindled, and new ones are forming. Toasts have been made to a new life. Oh and we found the house of our dreams in one of the most rural counties in England…where A roads are few and far between, and B roads look a lot like goat tracks…Somerset…we love you. Its been a wild ride, but we’ve settled now and love it.

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Our village is starting to feel like somewhere we belong, and can really craft a new identity in. Everyone here has been so kind and welcoming. We recognise faces in the street , and in turn are recognised. That feels good. I help out in our community-owned shop on a Saturday morning and that’s got me known among some of the regulars, the ones who cross the street when they see me coming (to the other side!).

Our village square – the White Horse pub in front, the village shop is to the right of the pub…a three minute walk from home, so not too bad a commute!
A night out at our local cider barn, Sheppy’s Cider, for their annual Wassail – an ancient West Country cider festival with songs, poetry, dancing and (of course) drinking to wake up the apple trees, therefore ensuring a good harvest! We bumped into friends from the village and had a great time there.

*

Catherine has started to bed herself into the community, joining in Pilates at the village hall, producing a flier for the shop, and taking herself off in a small women’s walking group she was invited to join.

Joining Claire and Lizzie from the village for a walk with their two dogs, Amber and Fudge
A little piece of Victorian history in the abandoned mill in Wellington
Claire and Lizzie heading off through the woods
A friendly local drops by to say hello

Catherine has also landed (another) voluntary job as photographer for the Somerset arm of a charity called CPRE (Campaign to Protect Rural England) – you’ll find her photos on their website and Instagram (@cpresomerset). We signed up to help with their litter pick-up initiative, and have used our kits to clean up the lane where we live.

We wonder how much of this falls off the recycling truck!

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Another winter’s day sunrise

Oh but what about the weather you say? Well maybe we are still in the honeymoon period, but the long dark nights of this winter have been an opportunity to get the log burner cranked up, pour ourselves a nice glass of red, and chill out, which in my case means reading and music, and in Catherine’s writing documents for her support group or research papers she is contributing to. Now there are already signs of spring, with snowdrops and daffodils poking their heads out of our lawn and borders. Well …where the squirrels and badgers haven’t dug up the bulbs we carefully buried, little buggers!

Snowdrops galore
Newly bursting crocus in the morning dew
Netted Iris
We try to distract the aforementioned squirrels with peanuts…not sure it has worked though!

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Our village did experience some local flooding, but not on our property which seems very well drained, and we don’t actually feel like we had many days of rain. We have been getting out and about no problem. There were certainly more than a few muddy walks, with some requiring wellies, but we have enjoyed them all. Just need to have the right gear.

A walk from our front door took us up into the foothills of the Blackdowns
Looking back at our village, nestled in the valley. Our house is the one with all the solar panels!
Walking 8km in wellies takes some getting used to!
On another walk we nipped over the border into Devon to catch up with our friends Julie, Russ, Maisie and Beth
Beautiful valley views
The remains of the 11th century Dunkeswell Abbey, where we had a picnic lunch
A stream winds its way through a field…a perfect spot to sail our stick and leaf boats for a race
Beth and Maisie….or is it the other way around…?

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We have also been able to borrow our new neighbours’ dog Ralph, and take him for a romp, and give him back muddy 🙂

Unbridled joy from Ralph the lab

We even walked out over the fields for a Sunday lunch at a local pub last week, that just felt so good. When I look back over January and February, I really have many happy memories created outdoors and in.

*

We haven’t had too many visitors, a nice break after the last summer’s rush just after we had moved in, but Catherine’s half brother Alex came and stayed locally and did a great walk with us.

A frosty start on a cloud free morning
Alex brought along his two border terriers, Scout and Raffles
You can see the sun is soon melting the frost in the fields
Heading to the England Coast Walk
Half siblings
“Don’t chase that seagull!”
Break for drinks on an old iron-age burial mound…as you do!
Group shot!

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Then a couple of friends from Australia did an overnight in between family visits. We certainly miss our friends in Australia, but our life needed to move on to adventures new.

*

Catherine has been able to spend so much more time with her family, having another weekend in Brighton with her sister and family, then to Hastings, to farewell her grandma.

Claire and Catherine – old friends from Uni days
Alice, Keely and Catherine’s sister, Helen also joined for a night out in Brighton
A timely catch up with friend from Australia, Wendy who happened to be in Sussex visiting family
Sunny Sunday walk in the woods with Helen’s dog, Cocoa
Catherine’s mum, Jenny with her younger sister, Pam, a rare reunion at their mum’s funeral. All guests wore a touch of red as recognition of Jean’s love of the colour, and dancing to Chris de Burgh’s Lady in Red
Catherine stayed a couple of nights with her mum after the funeral
An amble through Hastings’ Old Town
A multitude of door knockers to be found

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We both also have had several trips into London for specialist medical support, which when the trains are running has been dead easy! So not very often…

Catherine’s been exploring London’s art galleries along with her medical appointments
Brighton Station at night after a day out in London

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We are also setting ourselves up to get out riding this spring. We both have new e-bikes, ones that will cope with the potholes, mud and gravel a little better, and that’s just on the main roads! I’m also planning some more multi-day bike tours. Exmoor and Dartmoor beckon. A lot to look forward to.

One of my oldest friends came to stay with his bike, and we took a 75km ride along the Grand Western Canal

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Our home is also taking shape. We’ve lived here nearly 8 months now, and have finished most of the major internal modifications we wanted to do, and kitted ourselves out with furniture, blinds etc. We’ve really enjoyed it, and I’m not sure why its felt different doing it here, but it has. In our last house we landscaped the garden, then stopped. Perhaps deep down we knew it wasn’t going to be our forever home, whereas this one feels like it will be. So next will come the garden, starting with the hard landscaping. We’ve chosen our provider and mapped out a design for a new patio, then it will be the shrubs and adding more privacy with trees. If we have another summer like the last one, it will get a good work out.

So that’s us. Happy in our country bubble, just keeping fingers crossed about our respective health, and enjoying each day we have in this fabulous corner of the country.

Finishing up with a quick shot of the most important member of our household, Princess Tassie, who is loving the multitude of warm sunny spots around the house

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4-7 October: A wander through the south-west on my bike…

Author: Mr A

Location: Somerset, Devon and Cornwall, UK

After months of blue skies and less wind than Prime Minister’s question time, I decided to head off for a few days on a cycle tour when England copped its first storm of the Autumn season. Oops. Didn’t I read the forecast? I did…but I thought I should reacquaint myself with the ”joy” of riding in the full gamut of weather England can throw at you. I also like exploring in the off seasons, so, “Toughen up!” I thought. In a reluctant nod to the forecast and that most camp sites were shut for the off season, I ditched my plan to carry camping gear at the last minute, and went for the pub/B &B option.

So in summary, how did the trip work out? Well, with the glass half full perspective, I saw some new-to-me areas of south-west England that are staggeringly beautful, proved that the solo cycle touring model works on an e-bike (something I was concerned about with range anxiety!), and had my view of the kindess of strangers totally reaffirmed. That latter point is particularly crucial given I did hit a few speed bumps. Read on…and laugh with/at me.

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The trip itinerary was ”flexible”, I had a clear diary for five days. I didn’t even make any accommodation bookings, making the assumption, erroneously it turns out, that in October, away from the coast, not school holidays, how hard could it be to find a room? So of I toddled into the dawn of a Somerset morning with the vague plan to ”Ride towards Lands End”. I was going south and west, with the aim to end up finishing my trip in a town with a direct train line back to Taunton, then a short ride back to our place.

Somerset is a very rural county, and I rode on that first day through tiny villages and hamlets, undisturbed by 4g coverage. Never travel here without offline mapping tools. I rode through green corridors, with tall banks and hedgerows to either side of the narrow lanes, and sometimes this turns into a tunnel. A tunnel taking me back in time I felt, as another little hamlet would emerge around a corner, with the odd car parked on the tiny streets the only reminder I was still in the 21st century.

High banks on these Somerset lanes
Has time stood still in these little hamlets?

It’s pretty hilly in the south west of the UK, a mantra I would repeat to myself over the next few days, so I was happy to come across my first town after a couple of hours riding to top up my bike and tummy battery. A much needed breakfast of champions, and a mains plug socket for the bike, as all this kit I was carrying, plus my not insignificant weight, were giving me a lower cycling range than expected.

Rider battery recharge

The lovely ladies at the Old School Cafe in the small service centre type town of Tiverton (code for…it’s a bit ugly and you wouldn’t go for for any other reason!), made me very welcome, despite my dripping clothes and muddy boots. Yes, I had been treated to what the locals call ”Devon Sunshine”. Traditionally the climate down here is a bit wetter than other parts of England. Although this year we were in drought though like the rest of the country, so the rain is much needed. Despite lashing out on the best wet weather gear money can buy, I was soaked from sweating and a bit of water ingress. There will be a section at the end on my wet weather and other gear for those interested.

Much needed rain made the riding ”interesting” in places

I had at least done some research on the next town with any chance of accommodation, and that was another 55 kilometres ride, and more importantly, over a lot of bumpy bits (it’s hilly down the south west, remember!), so I was committing. It was going to be a big day, but I felt good, and the Devon Sunshine had stopped and been replaced by…well…”mizzle”. Even though Google won’t let me type that word without autocorrecting, it is in the Oxford dictionary, and such a lovely word. One that evokes the experience just through saying it. Thats called Onomatopoeia by the way. You see, you’ve learnt something already. For our non-English resident readers, mizzle occupies the continuum between rain and mist. You don’t notice its raining, you just get really wet.

It’s clearly not a fashion shoot!

I pushed on. Unfamiliar with the area, I saw another cyclist coming the other way and shouted over to ask him a question about the best route. He pulled up. He had a couple of small bags on his bike, so I asked where he was heading. Now we could run a competition until Christmas 2023 on his answer, and I guarantee no one would win it. Istanbul. He’d left home that morning, first day of his trip. Will was raising money for a charity I’d never heard of, Andy’s Man Club. They were set up to provide support to men who are in need of mental health support. Will Thurgood had lost a good friend to suicide, and at the funeral heard of this charity. As a keen cyclist he thought, ”I’ll ride to Istanbul and raise money and awareness”. And indeed he has started well on that quest.

Will Thurgood is off to Istanbul

It’s at moments like that, I know one of the reasons I love cycle touring so much. The unexpected encounters on the road that just make you think about your own life through getting inspiration from others. I find riding solo helps these encounters. I’m more alert to a conversation opportunity, and people seem to be keener to engage, rather than interrupting a pair or a pack. Will rode on, and I watched him go with the utmost respect. Strangers whose lives momentarily intersect. In a car you’re isolated, on a bike its easy to start up a conversation. And I regularly do.

Behind that mist lurks the mass of Dartmoor..I’m going up!

More hills loomed, with the huge mass of Dartmoor dominating my vision and thoughts, as I knew I had that treat in store at some stage on this trip. Now I should interject here and explain that for those of you who haven’t had the pleasure to ride a loaded up electric bike, which is a heavy bike to begin with, it’s not a moped. You need to pedal, and get various levels of assistance of your choosing, from none (downhill mode!) up to Sport (make yourself unpopular mode with the manual brigade option). But there isn’t a “stop peddling and go up hills” option. So I arrived at my destination, the small town of Okehampton, completely exhausted with 1100 metres of climbing having taken its toll on legs that hadn’t been doing any training. Ok, so I had found my limit loaded up. I had been out with camping gear in September on a two night trip, but had done a lot less climbing.

Finally arriving after 1100 metres of climbing that day

I staggered into the hotel that I had called the day before to check if they could store my bike and asked if they had availability, Yes and yes the nice man said. Did I need to book? No, he said, its very quiet at this time of the year. So I arrived to be told, no room at the inn. There was only one other place in town, a brand whose mere mention brings shivers (of a bad kind) down the spine of the British travelling public. Wetherspoons. I walked through the bar trying to find the hotel reception, negotiating a large group of absolutely hammered lads staggering around at 2.30 pm on a Tuesday afternoon. Eventually I found someone to ask about a room, although she looked like I had just woken her up. I’m not kidding when I tell you it took the receptionist a good 10 minutes to wind up the old desktop and stab what seemed like 300 keys before announcing yes, they had a room left. She almost seemed disappointed she now had to check me in. She asked my mobile number three times, asked me to spell out my home address twice. I gritted my teeth. They did have bike lockers she said. After 10 minutes trying to open and store my bike in one, I decided the engineer who designed them must have had a wicked sense of humour, or who had been knocked over and injured by a cyclist! Jeez. Another couple of tourers turned up with their bikes and a smug air of ”We’ve been here before, we know how to do it”. I watched as they wrestled, and swore, and had their bikes fall out and bite them. So it was my turn to be smug, as I gave in and folded down my handlebar stem. In it went in then like a breeze. How you would get full size bikes in them remains a mystery to me.

Finally. I staggered up to my room, trying to not breathe in the smell of cheesy feet that oozed out of the hallway carpets. The room looked OK, so I walked in, and fell over. There was a crater under the carpet that would have swallowed a small dog. In fact, when I bent down to look at the floor, it did smell like in fact a dog had been there and never left.

I started unpacking to get my devices charging, searching for the bag containing the various power leads that I carefully packed in one of my panniers, and had now mysteriously dematerialised. Uh oh. I had pulled out my iPhone cable at some point during my morning’s ride, and noticed a few minutes later that in my stupor I had not fastened back up the pannier top. My charging cables bag must have leapt out and grabbed the brief opportunity to become road-kill. I phoned the ”Broad Oak House, Level 1 Emotional Support” hotline (Catherine). I was ready to give up the trip. I thought the chances of finding all the cables I needed in this remote little desert of electronics was slim. I mean, with barely any phone coverage (one bar of 3g in the town centre), why would people have phones? But no, I learnt on this trip that there may not be a bakery, butcher, greengrocer etc, but there’s always a phone shop. I could scrape by on what, for an eye watering price, they could sell me.

I ate in the restaurant downstairs, once again there were blind drunk folk staggering round, and they were good enough to share some of their pints all over my clothes. Great.

Lesson 1: Don’t trust nice young men from Okehampton who say you don’t need to book. The compromise between not being locked in to an itinerary and being in a Wetherspoons, is to book somewhere nice 24 hrs ahead. Good learning.

Lesson 2: Before recommencing riding, rotate my head like a meercat, checking carefully all bag fastenings! Sigh…

*

I packed up in the morning and headed towards the scary bike lockers. I opened the door to the outside world to be nearly bowled over by a tremendous gust of wind and driving rain. Oh. One of those days that would be another ”valuable learning experience“ in how to ride in proper English weather. I set off. After being blown all over the road, and I’m no lightweight, l called into the emotional support line again, also doubling as weather research, as I had no 4g signal. (Why do people even need smart phones in the south-west?). Catherine had a good look at the weather reports, and could see the next couple of hours were going to be grim, but if I could get through that phase, then it was clearing up a bit.

So this is how I found myself sitting in an old pill box type shelter, by the side of rail trail. Or from the smell inside, it was actually a toilet without a sign announcing it as such. Tree branches came whirling past the open windows. The rain pelted down. Time for a Cadbury’s Hot Chocolate I thought, thanks to a recent purchase of lovely little stove. I have three now, Catherine reminds me with that Paddington Bear hard stare she has perfected when providing ”feedback” on my outdoor gear buying habits. In under a minute from pulling it out of my pannier (a pannier I immediately close), it is assembled and boiled a steaming mug to replenish the spirits, which as at this point are flagging somewhat. Don’t believe the nice young man from the outdoor shop either, when he says, “This coat will keep you dry”. It’s impossible when you are heating up through exercise, even the most breathable of waterproof membranes will have you damp. Add in some time, and leakage through bits you can’t seal around your face and remain breathing, and you’re going to be wet. But at least not that cold.

A much needed hot chocolate moment sheltering in my pill pox

Well, my forecast hotline was spot on, and the wind eased to just below a level I could ride in without becoming airborne. So off I went, once more into the breach. I rode through stunning countryside in the green and glistening heart of Devon. Little villages that surely didn’t look much different from when the French came over to wipe the floor with us at the Battle of Hastings, then built their imposing Norman castles across this landscape.

*

Made it..third county in three days

All was going so well, and I arrived at what I thought was going to just be a quick lunch in Launceston, just over the border into Cornwall, a top up of batteries and belly. I plugged in my iPhone and up came an error message that said “Moisture has been detected in your charging port. This could take several hours to clear before you can recharge”. Oops. But the nice young man from Apple said my iPhone 11 was waterproof? Surely Apple wouldn’t lie to its customers? According to their website “An iPhone 11 can be submerged in 13 feet of water for up to 30 minutes before risking damage”. You’d think I would have noticed laying deep underwater for half an hour, but apparently not. I imagine somewhere in their tiny T’c and C’s it says ”Avoid riding for four hours in proper British weather”. Anyway. I was stuck. No phone. No navigation. Try buying a paper map nowadays.

Here’s the part where the kindness of strangers gets reaffirmed for me, starting with manager of the cafe I had chosen to park myself in to make a plan, apologising profusely for dripping everywhere. Liberty Coffee, it was called, in case you’re passing through. She welcomed me to my own little area in the hallway where I could drip to my hearts content and even park my bike next to me. Time to reach out to ”Practical Catherine” for some emotional counselling and top tips from Dr Google on drying out phones. Put in a bag of rice and leave for up to 24 hrs seemed to be the go. Advice and directions were sought and off I went to buy those.

By the time that was done, the afternoon was marching on and I was going to need a place to stay in town, and lose half a day off my trip. I headed to the Library for working wifi, then Tourist Information centre for hotels. How long everything takes without a working smart phone! The Eagle House Hotel was the only place with a room. I rushed round and walked up to the front door all excited at the prospect of a nice hotel, and was confronted with a battered front door with peeling paint. First impressions anyone?

First impressions didn’t tell the whole story: The Eagle House Hotel, Launceston

It didn’t fill me with confidence, but how wrong can first impressions be? I later found out from the owner the reason the door was like that due the lack of any tradespeople, or doors, as both had been an order for six months! Supply chain kinks and labour shortages be dammed. Lovely staff – kindness again – even allowed my bike in my room to keep me company. Think I looked in a pretty sad state.

I pulled my phone out of the bag of rice and tried the charging cable. Next problem – the charging cable wouldn’t fit – bunged up with soggy rice no doubt. Off I rushed to the phone shop. There’s always a phone shop isn’t there? Another nice young man produced a tool designed for the purpose of cleaning out the ports, and bingo, a phone that charged once again. I shall be treating any terms like ”waterproof” with a pinch of rice in the future.

Back at the hotel I happened to see a sign to the ”cocktail bar”. Having low expectations from my last night’s experience in the darkest depts of Wetherspoons, I came round the corner to be blown away by a wonderful bar. A gorgeous balcony overlooking the valley, ideal for more summery weather, and a very perky barmaid (personality wise I mean, Catherine), who mixed me up a fantastic negroni. There was even a custom-made ball of ice containing a flower and herbs from the owner’s garden. I had a chat with Rebecca, the owner, to get the story on the place. She and her husband are local farmers and decided they didn’t want to see the loss of the hotel (it was headed towards demolition by the looks of it). They bought it five years ago, and told me they have spent longer as hotel owners in COVID restrictions than out of them. It clearly needs a lot of work, but I wish them all the best. Had a wonderful dinner, the only person in the dining room.

Best Negroni ever! Complete with home grown flower in the ice ball

*

I had decided I needed to abandon the lofty goal of Land’s End on this trip. With a half day of riding lost to phone issues, and a train strike on Saturday, I had to rethink. My criteria was to head for a railway station with level access. Stairs and e-bikes are not happy companions. Plymouth came up trumps. A bit of retracing my steps, then it was up, and up to the wild open moorlands of Dartmoor. I was just thinking, “I’m going to get to Plymouth early”, as a horse rider coming the other way shouted out, ”Road closed ahead, long detour up over the moor”. Mmmm. Keeps you on your toes, this cycle touring lark. I had already chewed through one battery, so thankfully pulled out the spare (from Catherines bike) and settled in to another climb.

What a beautifully stark and evocative place. We had ridden some of Dartmoor before, but that was okay. It has a lot of wild space to offer a hiker or a rider. I met one car coming across, no one else. I finally dropped down off the moor to find a rail trail that would lead me straight into Plymouth. I powered along this fabulous route (Drake’s Trail), that we had also ridden before, but that didn’t matter, it is gorgeous and traffic free.

On top of Dartmoor and a glorious morning

*

So that was it, a well earned beer at my hotel in Plymouth, a lively pub with great rooms overlooking the harbour. Off to the station, loaded up the bike into his little spot, and remarkably smooth and cheap trip back to Taunton and was home, weary but fulfilled.

Made it to Plymouth
A well earned beer at my home for the night on the harbour in Plymouth
A fitting end to the trip as the sun goes down over Plymouth Harbour

More cycle touring in the south-west of England is definitely in my future. If we invest in two more batteries, then perhaps with Catherine. I want to get up on Exmoor in the spring with my tent. See more of the west coast of Cornwall, there’s just so much, and a limited amount of time where it will be within my prowess. Carpe Diem.

*

Gear Locker (for those interested)

Bike: Reise and Muller’s Tinker. It partially folds (stem and bars), handy for those bike lockers! Has 20 inch wheels with tryres wide enough to deal with gravel. A belt drive so no gears to maintain, and built in lights front and rear. We’ve been thrilled with the build quality. In this case we got what we paid for. A high quality, reliable, well thought through ebike.

Wet weather gear. Jacket: Arc’teryx is the brand, a Canadian company producing high end outdoor gear I’ve come to really rely on. Have the over trousers to match. A new addtion on this trip were a pair of waterproof over-mitts from Extremities, with normal cycling gloves underneath. Just kept off the chill and super light and pack up small. Very pleased with the combo.

Boots: Also from Arc’teryx – very comfy for riding and hiking, super lightweight. My feet still get wet though. I think unavoidable when you’re riding and trousers lift up and water gets over the top of the boots. But my secret weapon, again first time out, a pair of Extremities waterproof socks underneath. Kept my foot dry, and not too sweaty and smelly either. A result.

Stove: the new acquisition, from MSR a Windburner. Such a great design for just heating up water when you’re mixing with dehydrated food, or just hot drinks. Light, simple to set up and really compact. It will be out with us on winter hikes for sure.

Panniers: I look like an Ortlieb advert. A pair of the dirt rider side rears, a seat pack, handlebar roll and front bag for bits. All kept everything bone dry. All stayed put. Shame they dont have an automatic closure!

Clothes: nothing really worth highlighting other than my Icebreaker, merino wool jacket. I’ve had it now for at least 12 years, and its still going strong. The weight to warmth and packed size ratios are amazing.

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6-31 August: The Aussies descend on Bradford-on-Tone!

Author: Mrs A

Location: Bradford on Tone, Somerset and London, UK

When Mr A last wrote he was struggling through a bout of Covid-19, isolated in his own wing of the house, while room service (me) delivered meals on a tray. Finally on day 9 he tested negative and was free to return to the shared spaces of the house, with a great deal of relief. I had managed to avoid catching it, thanks to his strict isolation.

Soon after he was released, I had my second immunotherapy infusion in London, and on a hot Tuesday morning headed up to Hampstead. The Royal Free Hospital has a charitable arm which provides free accomodation in a brand new building for long-distance patients, conveniently located beside the hospital, and walking distance to shops, cafes and the London Underground. After checking in, I decided I wanted an afternoon in the great outdoors, given I had so much indoor time ahead (hooked up to a drip), and took off to explore Hampstead Heath.

The Heath is a bit of a hidden gem in London. First written mention of it dates back to the year 986 when Ethelred the Unready allocated some of the land to one of his servants. Nowadays, at 790 acres, it is one of the largest green (or mostly yellow at the moment) spaces in London.

There are about 30 ponds on the Heath, three of which are available to swim in (one mixed genders, one female only, one male only), which were absolutely packed on this 30 degree day. Looking at the murky brown waters, I decided not to partake! My mum grew up in this area, and told me of people swimming here in the 1950s and 60s – I cannot imagine they have been well cleaned since this time, but I could be wrong!

A cool haven on a hot day – the Heath, Kenwood House and an unmistakable Henry Moore scuplture

The woodlands provided nature’s air conditioning, perfect for walking, and I completed a 9km circuit, calling in at the stunning English Heritage Kenwood House for a look around the artwork and unique interior architecture (visit for the library alone, it is incredible!). The park is packed full of birdlife, and I saw Green and Spotted Woodpeckers, Wrens, Robins, Magpies, Grey Herons and huge flocks of Rose-ringed Parakeets munching on sycamore tree seeds. The ancient woodland is the UK’s smallest site of special scientific interest (SSSI) and is home to some rare and endangered plants and wildlife.

The view from Parliament Hill is well worth a visit – spot St. Paul’s Cathedral, The Shard and many other landmarks

The following morning I was off for my infusion of unicorn juice. This is my second infusion of Rituximab, the aim of which is to suppress my immune system and stop it from attacking my airway unnecessarily! Already, despite having an op in June, at this point my airway was already on the decline.

The unicorn juice enters my bloodstream…hopefully working its magic

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The day after I returned from London, my sister, Helen, brother in law Stu and nephew and niece drove over from Brighton and spent a busy and very warm four days with us.

The temperatures were more like what we would have expected to find in Australia, and our local river was again a lovely cool haven for a bit more packrafting with the kids.

Living near a small river has its advantages
Elliot did well with his paddling

We held a bit of a housewarming party too, with our friends from Honiton coming over for a BBQ one evening. We ended up congregating under the cool shade of the oak tree to sip wine, listen to music and share stories of our misspent youths!

The moon was huge and the werewolves out in force 🙂

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The first of our Australian visitors arrived, with John and Eveliene stopping by for lunch en route from Plymouth to Oxfordshire, the months falling away as we slipped back into old conversations and jokes easily.

Cups of tea under the cool shade of the oak tree with friends Eveliene and John

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The next visitors were also from Australia, Karen and Chris, who stayed for three nights. They arrived on our 20th wedding anniversary, so joined us and our new friends and neighbours, Jim and Lucy, for a celebratory dinner at a local Italian, and a glass or two of bubbles.

Cheers!
Even Princess Tassie got into the celebratory action!

A tour of a nearby brewery was in order the following day, somewhat of a hair-of-the dog, and Exmoor Ales obliged us with tastes straight from the barrel. They were rewarded with a few purchases.

Some tasty tipples tried on our tour

No flying visit to Somerset is complete without a walk in the Quantock Hills before lunch at our local cider barn, Sheppy’s, and of course that was scheduled in for their final day with us (they also have a fine wine list, for the non cider drinkers!).

Starting our short walk at Crowcombe Gate – there are magnificent views almost immediately
This is the perfect time of year to see the Quantocks – the heather is blooming and hopefully the temperatures are not too crazy
The joy of the outdoors!
Fine views all the way down to Minehead on the coast

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Not one to waste time, I squeezed in another operation on my airway on the day Karen and Chris left – hoping this is the last one this year – I have lost enough brain cells to general anaesthetics in 2022! Final pre-op photo for this year…(fingers crossed!), this one conducted at our local hospital in Taunton, just 12 minutes drive from home.

All went as planned and I could immediately feel the benefit of an open airway. If my peak flow chart were your share portfolio, you’d be a happy bunny today!

🐾🐾

Readers who have been following us for a while will know that Mr A is rather partial to a solo cycling adventure, and he has been feeling he should plan a trip. So he set off on a training ride for two nights, loading up his electric bike with tent, sleeping bag, stove and a few supplies. The good thing about bike-packing (as it is called) in the UK, is that there is not hundreds of kilometres between water and food supplies, making the load a little lighter. The battery on the bike also helps a bit too! He had a great few days, saw some stunning countryside and was able to refine his packing list for next time.

And he’s off…and that’s just down our driveway!

Mark had not long left our driveway, and my sister and niece arrived from Brighton to join me for a few days.

An afternoon walk for a paddle in the river followed by a rendezvous with our friendly local Shetland Ponies and concluding with a cool drink with neighbours Lucy, Jim and their lovely dog, Maisie

I took Helen and Isabel to the small fishing town of Watchet, just a half hour drive from home. Following Jim’s tip to use bacon as bait, had a successful hour of crabbing in the rock pools. All crabs were released unharmed and enjoyed their morsels of bacon!

Fish and chips followed by ice creams – perfect seaside visit
Lucy and Jim join us for drinks, nibbles and games of Uno!

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After saying farewell to Helen and Isabel, Mark and I realised we had a few days off from visitors, so decided to take ourselves off on a hike. I plotted a 9km route using Kamoot (our favourite mostly free app for plotting hikes via public footpaths and bridleways) and off we went. Despite being a long-weekend, we didn’t see anyone else on the paths.

The hikes up revealed fabulous countryside views
Grand avenues of mossy trees guide us on through the Brendon Hills, part of Exmoor National Park
Our walk takes us way down into the valley, where we join the River Tone, which (further down river) passes through our village
Appreciating the joy of breathing easily

It was lovely to get out in the fresh air amongst nature for a few hours, to fully test the new (again!) airway, and make the most of where we live.

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We continue to feel more and more settled in Somerset, and metaphorically pinch ourselves on a daily basis when we admire the views from our windows or stroll through the village on our way to pilates at the village hall.

Creating memories with our friends and families, and having our Australian and UK lives mingle, all helps us to feel more at home here in Bradford-on-Tone. We are starting to make small changes to our home, putting our mark on it, and are enjoying fresh produce from the garden – a rhubarb and apple crumble last week, thanks to produce tended by the previous owners, and almost every day we are consuming salad leaves and peppery radish, sown by Mark’s youngest daughter, Hayley when she came to stay.

I am getting to know some locals as well, having met another lady with the same airway disease as me while I was in London, finding we live just 20 minutes drive apart. Last week another patient called in to meet us for lunch on her way home from holidaying in Cornwall – another time we really appreciate our proximity to the UK’s major transport networks!

Lunch with two iSGS sisters, Lisa and Jean – always good to talk to people who understand what life is like with a constantly closing airway!

While the past few months have delivered some health challenges, I am fortunate to have access to the best care, and a responsive medical team who are on my side. When I read almost daily about the waiting lists for medical treatment, I know that not everyone has this, and I am incredibly grateful. Mr A is now under the care of a world renowned eye surgeon in London for his glaucoma and pigment dispersion syndrome (PDS). We have had to organise this privately, the cost well worth avoiding the dangerously long wait to see an National Health Service doctor, which could be potentially damaging to his eyesight.

We’re learning how to navigate the systems, and though I am certain there will be more hurdles ahead, we have good friends and contacts who are helping us to overcome them.

One of the reasons we migrated to the UK was to spend more time travelling and exploring Europe…now we have been here seven months, we are starting to think about where and when we might get away…plans are afoot…watch this space!

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21 April-10 May: Princess Tassie-the-adventure-cat flies to the UK

Author: Mrs A

Location: Lydeard St Lawrence, Twickenham and Heathrow, UK

So much has happened since our last post, we can hardly believe it has been just over three weeks.

Our eleven weeks holiday rental in Kingston St Mary came to an end, and we moved out and into a gorgeous AirBnB in a nearby village, Lydeard St Lawrence. Around the same time as moving, our shipping container arrived from Australia – we took out one or two bits, but mostly that went straight into storage. It feels quite surreal seeing items (such as our camping car fridge) in the UK, items we only ever have associated with our travels in Australia.

Last seen on our driveway in Curl Curl, Sydney – here’s our container in Somerset!

We also have changed our car – another Mercedes but a slightly larger one with a bit more clearance for those country lanes, an issue we were finding with the GLA. Thankfully (due to some negotiation from Mr A with the Mercedes dealership in Exeter) there was no cost of changeover, and we just paid the difference with our larger vehicle.

No more grey Merc – now a flashy red number to brighten up our days

*

The AirBnB we moved into next was a great find. We had wanted somewhere in the same region – not too far from the Quantock Hills, closer to Exmoor and within a village we could easily walk from, and had stumbled across a little self-contained cottage in Lydeard St Lawrence.

Given Tassie’s arrival was impending, I had enquired whether pets were allowed…and once that was confirmed, checked whether a cat would be ok. It turned out that our superhost, Cat, is a British Shorthair cat breeder, and was very welcoming of a feline visitor. Perfect! There was also parking available for both our car and Truffy, so no alternative storage required – it really was meant to be. We soon settled in.

We had been there a couple of days before it was time to head up to London for a day we we had been long anticipating – Tassie’s arrival on a flight from Sydney.

Richard has his final cuddle before Tassie heads off – and in the Sydney ’hotel’ before her first flight

She had a huge journey, leaving the loving arms of her foster parents, Rosemary and Richard on Friday morning, two nights in a ’pet hotel’ near Sydney airport, before being loaded up into a Qatar Airlines plane and flown to Doha. Once again she was offloaded and released into another ’pet hotel’.

Finally she was loaded onto another flight to London Heathrow, arriving at 7am on Tuesday morning…finally being released nearly six hours later after all the paperwork had been completed. It was such a relief to see her – and as she stepped out of her carry cage and rubbed her cheeks on my hands and started purring, we knew that she forgave us for the traumatic journey and was pleased to be back with her original servants. Princess Tassie the Adventure Cat has officially made it to the UK!

The best cuddle ever!

We must not forget to say thank you to our friend Jacky who kindly took us on a whirlwind walk around Twickenham while we waited for the call to collect Tas – a chance to stretch our legs, enjoy some fresh air and buy lunch before spending another three hours in the car.

Yes, yet another stunning spring day

*

So we settled into life in Lydeard St Lawrence. It’s another pretty historical village set in the countryside between the Quantock Hills and Exmoor National Park. Being a conservation area, there are many listed buildings and every corner has a story to tell.

The village’s name comes in part from the church. There has been a church in the location since the year 854, and in at least partially its current form for almost 700 years, since around 1350. The church tower makes a great landmark for our return walks and cycles.

Approaching Lydeard St Lawrence and it’s old church

There are countless footpaths disappearing in every direction across the hills, and in the couple of weeks we stayed there we walked many circuits, and never the same one twice.

In one of the sandstone walls in the village, a memory of jubilees past – this plaque commemorating the Queen’s silver jubilee (this year is the platinum jubilee) sits above a spring, apparently celebrated for its medicinal qualities and has never stopped flowing

Mark and I still have our ’tourist-eyes’ on and are really appreciating the chance to just walk from the front door, drinking up the ’new’ smells and sights. Like we did with our travels in Australia, I think we are appreciating our location all the more for being away.

Views in every direction
Which way now? The trees are heavy with perfumed blossom and the roadsides sprouting with wildflowers.
Spring emerging in the woodland
Primroses surround an old lime kiln in an ancient woodland
Bluebells, celandines and more wild lfowers emerging in every location
Looking towards the Quantock Hills
A grassy bridleway between two fields
We watched three wild red deer dash out of the woods at the bottom of this field and bound away
Fields of wheat are sprouting
The quiet country lanes are fragrantly flower-lined
A Greater Spotted Woodpecker flies to a tree right in front of us, before disappearing into this hole
Goldfinches are colourful visitors to the hedgerows, rarely stopping still long enough for a photo
Goldfinch
History around every corner in the Somerset lanes

*

One Sunday afternoon we took ourselves out to Clatworthy Reservoir, situated on the edge of Exmoor and just a 30 minute drive from our cottage. Mr A had picked it as our destination somewhat randomly, spotting it on the map and suggesting we take a drive.

It is a picturesque location surrounded by native woodland, and an ancient hill fort. There are a couple of hikes there, the longer 8 kilometre walk circumnavigating the water, while we took the shorter hill fort hike, spotting wildlife as we went – especially excited to spot a pair of wild Red Deer.

A picturesque valley
A Blue Tit hunting for insects in the newly burst oak leaves
Mr A hiking past the bluebells
A pair of Red Deer emerge right on cue
Very shy, they soon gallop off through the woodland

*

Another outing just 20 minutes drive away was to the unusually named Wimbleball Lake, on Exmoor. Wimbleball is an International Dark Sky Reserve by night (perfect for star-gazing), but during the day a great place to walk, cycle, fish, kayak and stand-up paddle-board. Our visit was predominantly aimed at walking and bird watching.

We did a 7km return hike around some of the lake’s edge, spotting our first British Kingfisher (sadly it didn’t stop still for a photo) this year. We will keep our eyes peeled for another.

A Song Thrush hunting for worms and insects in a lawn
A Dunnock keeping an eye out
No visit is complete without a Robin!
A Great Tit perches in a hedgerow, getting ready to fly off at a moment’s notice
Wimbleball – no idea of the origin of the name – not for the lack of searching!
Mr A hiking off in to the distance

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We also had some great meals and pub garden afternoons out with our friends, Karen, Jane and Terry from West Bagborough, including a somewhat disappointing lunch at the Rising Sun, (our ’local’ while we lived in the village which was always closed because of lock-down) and a superb lunch at a nearby gastro pub-restaurant , The Barn @ Pod Shavers (apparently a pod shaver is someone who makes traditional cricket balls!).

Laughs with our friends, The Ayres – and yes, Karen has a drinking problem (as in people keep buying her drinks and she cannot keep up!)

*

The landscape changes almost daily as the trees bud and these burst into bright green leaves – in a handful of days the fields have gone from being lined with bare trees to thick lush green. We are loving the almost overwhelming impact on our senses.

As the days have got warmer, we have also been out on the bikes, the quiet (mostly traffic-free) country lanes ideal for exploring….and there is always the bonus of a village pub to mark as your destination for a refreshing afternoon beverage.

A typical country lane – all single track around here and very much suited to cycling
The fresh spring colours in the sunshine are breathtaking
An unpaved track – probably more suited to horse trekking than our little e-bikes, but brings us out into some incredible views
Looking across a field of wheat

*

We have had a wonderful time in Lydeard St Lawrence, made ever so welcome by our hosts (who even very kindly brought Tassie a ’welcome to the UK’ gift of treats and toys) but now it is time to move on again to our next little cottage in Devon.

Our house purchase is progressing smoothly (touch-wood!), and we hope to be moving in by the end of June. The next temporary accommodation will see us through til then.

Tassie gets to sunbathe in Lydeard St Lawrence – ironically an activity she has missed in rainy Sydney!
Tassie is settling in nicely to her British life

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15-18 September: Preparing to sell our beloved Zone RV caravan – another migration milestone coming up

Author: Mr A

Location: Diddillibah, Sunshine Coast, Queensland, Australia

As we prepare to sell our lovely luxury apartment on wheels, the Zone RV caravan, a service was required. Off down the coast we went, saying goodbye (for now) to Noosa and the friends who live there. We had booked a couple of nights at a new caravan park on the Sunshine coast, at somewhere fairly challenging to pronounce called Diddillilbah, which we soon morphed into Diddely-squat, which was a bit unfair as it was quite a decent site with large pitches and a nice restaurant in the park itself. But not really our cup of tea, purely functional, we prefer being out in the bush more. But our caravan service was scheduled just round the corner with the marvellous Suncoast Caravan Service. Our friends who used to work at our caravan manufacturer, Zone RV, both work there now. The power couple of the Sunshine Coast Caravan Industry, Marsha and Rhys Gehrke.

Its a serious business getting a van serviced 🙂

Our home was handed our home over to these capable hands, and we spent the day based at our caravan site in our Oztent Screen-house (wonderful bit of kit!). Tassie is not a fan though, I think she senses we want her to settle in there so with perfect feline logic does the opposite. Instead she based herself on her sheep’s wool futon in the car with the windows open! We took it in turns to head out for bike rides and food.

We picked our van up that night, with new bearings and other stuff I have no idea of the function of, all fixed up and ready for a lucky owner to snap up when it is advertised.

Our luxury ‘Surry Hills apartment’ on wheels

The caravan park was a good base to cycle from, with a mostly traffic free route along the Maroochy River.

Boats on the Maroochy River
Maroochy River
Ancestors (Cash & Davis, 2016) – a tribute to local timber workers, when the river was a conduit for the industry intertwined with a recognition of the local Aboriginal history.
Chambers Island – a conservation reserve linked to the land by a footbridge
Walking over to Chambers Island – and no I’m not scratching my bottom!
They like their brightly coloured boats on this river!

The next morning we had a catch up with friends we knew from Sydney who had moved up to the Sunnshine Coast a few years ago (Peter and Valerie). Always a pleasure with these guys, and what a breakfast spot! It was interesting to hear about how they had gone about integrating into a new community, something we are working out how we will do when we move.

Concluding a fine breakfast at Mykies by the Bay

That night was another catch up with Rhys and Marsha and their family. That was a cracking dinner at the campsite restaurant I have to say. Rhys and Marsha are going to be selling our van for us (all enquires to Marsha please via: Marsha.gehrke AT gmail.com). I just didn’t think there was much point towing a van that was built on the Sunny Coast, is registered there as well, and has a specialist like Rhys who knows this brand inside out on hand to do any upgrades a customer might like. Whereas Sydney is still locked down, so a harder environment to sell it in. So let’s see how it goes. It means we will be emptying and cleaning the van at our friends’ house up here next week, then shipping the contents back to Sydney.

Of course no plan will necessarily survive contact with the enemy, in this case lockdowns, so we are keeping our fingers crossed that the border with NSW just holds the virus back another two weeks. Catherine has an important medical procedure at a Brisbane hospital on the 5th of October, which is likely to be cancelled should lockdowns come.

Talking about lockdowns, and lockouts in the case of people trying to return home across Australian state or international borders, there’s something I feel very strongly about I want to air to anyone who is willing to read on while I mount my soap box.

I am appalled at the lack of compassion being shown to Australian citizens who are trying get permission to return to their home state, when celebrities and the well heeled seem to be able to come and go as they please. Every week I read of another case where someone has been denied permission to go home, and it’s always the poor and powerless, it would seem. This story documents two contrasting examples of how are travel rules are being so differently applied, and turned my stomach over once again.

This is an Australia that I am increasingly not recognising as the one I fell in love with and pledged my citizenship vows to. The country that was proud to say they looked after each other, with a hearty dose of egalitarian mateship. Yet around our friends I see nothing but kindness and compassion for others, and usually amongst those we meet around the campsites. So is it just some of our politicians, driven by what they think will make them popular amongst their voters on the next morning’s news cycle, who give so little weight to those in need? Or is the lack of humanity within our the leadership of our institutions who have to implement their policies, and who seem to encourage so little discretionary compassion from their staff? I don’t know. But it doesn’t make me proud to be Australian when I read these tales of suffering, and then read about another celebrity given an apparent free pass to roam at will. And don’t get me started on our treatment of refugees! Not much evidence of compassion there either.

Soapbox dismounted, but if you feel as I do, why not let your MP know (you can find out who and how best to contact them, here), if you are an Australian citizen. I have regularly communicated with our Federal member, and her office has encouraged me to keep feedback coming. Mind you, she is an independent! And a compassionate voice in our parliament.

If we just keep quiet, our political leaders will think they have a free pass.

Zali Steggall: Federal Member for Warringah (our home base on the Northern Beaches of Sydney)

Thank you for reading. Soapbox dismounted.

13-20 July: Loitering on the Whitsunday Coast

Author: Mr A

Location: Mackay, Midge Point, Queensland, Australia

One of the tricker bits of planning when you are of “no fixed abode” travelling long term like we currently are, is managing to get health care. Getting an appointment with a GP can be hard enough, let alone seeing a specialist. It takes some forward planning given how busy most of them are, but you also have to take what you can get. This drove our trip into Mackay, plus a service for the Landcruiser.

Poor Mackay, it really doesn’t have much that is drawing tourists in, so the travellers keep charging up the Bruce Highway. We stayed in a small caravan park outside of Mackay, and drove into town to get our jobs done. Service on the 200 Series Landcruiser, a big one, the 160,000, and not a single issue once again. What a great car this has been. Toyota have sure got reliability nailed. Our day livened up when unbeknown to us some friends we had met through our common Zone RV ownership (a recurring theme!) had seen from our blog that we were heading their way, and we caught up for lunch. One of the unintended benefits of writing a blog! We do miss being physically separated from our friends, so a meet up like this is a big bonus for us. If you see us coming your way give us a shout.

Unfortunately my two medical appts, one for an ear problem and the other for my long term issue with complications from glaucoma , weren’t as joyful. I have to now see an ENT specialist somehow for my ear problem, and start taking additional eye drops to calm my interocular pressure readings. Glaucoma affects nearly 2% of the population, and can lead to blindness if not treated, so make sure you get those pressures checked regularly. I lost around 30% of my vision in one eye over a period of ten days during a particularly bad episode years ago. There is some anecdotal evidence that eye pressures can spike when you have heightened levels of anxiety. Its one of the reasons I left my sales career early. I had a stent fitted and they have been good since – until now. What’s changed? Well, we have some major life decisions to make over the next few months, and this has been giving me some sleepless nights. I am a bit of a “worrier”.

Out of any problem comes a learning opportunity, or so the mantra goes. I did “phone a friend” who has been into meditation, and we have certainly seen some profound and positive changes in him as he returned to the discipline, so ‘Why not give that a go?’, I thought. It was a really great conversation, and at nearly 65 I’ve just spent the first 20 minutes of my life attempting to meditate! Jeez its not easy is it? Mind wandering all over the place, which will come as no surprise to many friends. There’s work to do. Progress updates forthcoming.

Our home for the last few days has been in the most wonderful little campsite at the unfortunately named locality called Midge Point! We will refer to it as the Whitsunday Coast 🙂

A room with a view – we loved waiting up to the colour green each morning

We acknowledge the traditional owners of this area being the Yuwibara tribe. They and half a dozen or so First Peoples have formed a Traditional Owners Reference Group (TORG), which has developed a long term (to 2027) strategy plan to preserve and improve the area. A great initiative, the Great Barrier Reef needing all the help it can get, currently being reviewed by the World Heritage organisation as wether it should be added to their “in danger list”. It will be interesting to see (now the US is taking a much more proactive stance on climate strategy, and has formed a strong alliance with the UK on their approach), whether our government will be shaken into action. Australia is rapidly becoming an outlier amongst the G20 reference group.

Now how about this for a fabulous spot. Our caravan site is right on the edge of this gorgeous rainforest, with tropical birdsong our constant music track. Its once of the best locations we’ve had. The Travellers Rest Caravan and Camping Park (note no mention of Midge Point in that name!) is such a great place to chill out. If you’re down this way please try it out.

Wallabies come and check us out every so often, and behind our screen tent (midge proof) mesh we feel like we are the animals in a cage for a change. An important feeling to ponder.

Some very cute little wallabies linger on the edge of the forest in the afternoons, eating the grass
Yard Creek, running near to our campground almost looks appealing to kayak in….until you see the ‘possible crocodile’ signs! 🐊

A 200 metre wander along the edge of the forest takes us down to this almost deserted beach, just the odd fisherman gazing wistfully into the blue water.

Glistening blue water, a horizon dotted with islands, lined by a white sand beach – not a bad location
The sea goes out a long way here!
Looking south down the coast towards Mackay

The water’s edge was dotted with a variety of birds, like this little Gull-billed Tern resting from a fishing expedition.

Gull-billed Tern
Tiny little Red-capped Plover on the shore – they rarely stop moving!
Various Terns resting along the shoreline between meals
Gull-billed Terns join Great Terns
A Striated Heron flying along the creek beside the beach
Rainbow Bee-eaters find plenty to eat around here

We’ve spent several very pleasant afternoons pottering along with camera, bins and spotting scope. My aforementioned mediation friend, made a great point, that watching these birds gives such a great insight into how far we have come from “being in the moment”. He was so right. We feel an intense sense of calm when we are doing this spotting, no sudden movements, quietly waiting for the birds to adjust to our presence and go back to their business. It is so restful, and yet there is the thrill of discovery when we make a new-to-us species sighting.

Australasian Figbird – male at the top, female bottom – they have the most amazing song
A Spangled Drongo
A Helmeted Friarbird – they are a big honeyeater – not the prettiest of birds, with their red eye, bare black skin face and horned beak, but they do like a good rainforest flower

We even had a better than average (for regional Australia) pub meal up the road at the local “Point Tavern”. There was more than the usual “red or white mate?” wine choice, and although the menu was entirely predictable (in fairness, like many of France’s country cafés!) the food was well cooked and Catherine didn’t get food poisoning! That’s how low our measure has gone after our Eyre Peninsula experience, I’m not sure she will ever eat a beef burger again…

Most importantly of course, Princess Tasmania, as she is affectionately known to us (well, a cat that enjoys filtered and chilled water with her lightly cooked salmon and mashed pumpkin has got to expect some stick) does so like it here. A twice a day stroll, and by stroll I do mean….stroll…its like a meditative experience all of its own. Five minutes of extensive sniffing of one bush not uncommon. But every so often this 17 year old shows us the kitten lurking underneath those stiff joints and bursts in a, well a sort of sideways fast shuffle. Check this out, and I dare you to keep a straight face.

Tail held high – this is definitely a joyful gallop!

So the days pass, we tune in further to the birdsong, and have the delight of another lunch with our Zoner friends Wendy and Frank who drive up from Mackay. Such a pleasure.

We end our stay here with another day of Catherine wandering around with her big zoom and capturing some more amazing shots. Meanwhile I’m stuck on the phone trying to sort an ENT specialist appt in Townsville, and get one finally locked in for a couple of weeks time. So at least now we can now plan a little more loitering along the coast.

Laughing Kookaburras are resident in the park
Blue-WInged Kookaburra – these do not laugh at all unlike the Laughing Kookaburra
A Rufous-whistler – hard to see these birds as they flit high up in the tree’s canopy – you can often hear their song, however
One of several Bush Stone-curlews which live in the forest fringes around the edge of the park
A Forest Kingfisher
A Grey Fly-catcher
A juvenile Brush Cuckoo with a tasty morsel
A tiny Welcome Swallow singing on a telephone wire
Some of the many many butterflies seen here on a daily basis
This is a juvenile male Olive-backed Sunbird – the first time we have spotted one of these. Hoping to see an adult one of these days – their colours are spectacular – vibrant yellow and blue.

The campsites are pretty busy, even with NSW locked down, but I manage to get us our next two bookings after some fast phone work.

We had such a lovely few days here, it was hard to tear ourselves away. But away we must, on to adventures new, and edging ourselves slowly northwards towards Townsville.

A final beach walk to conclude our visit