England 2009, Part II

Part II England 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Gatwick to Salisbury
We arrive in Gatwick around 7am and are able to get through all the Custom lines, collected baggage, which had all showed up thank you very much. For the first two years I flew Continental and arrived in the south terminal. This year and last I’ve flown Delta which arrives in the North Terminal. So as we walk there is something unfamiliar about the surroundings. The baggage claim is in the wrong place, the ticket counter is in the wrong place everything is off, very disconcerting. Mark reads a sign which leads to the South Terminal and then the realization comes that I’m not where I thought I was. It struck me funny how clearly I remember getting around the terminal after the first two arrivals and had completely forgotten about last year’s arrival.

After finally finding the ticket counters we are told that the bus would not get us to Salisbury until 2pm, the train by 11am, we decided to take the train to Salisbury. Now Mark has one bag and a back pack and I have my two panniers with shoulder straps on them and a back pack. Mark’s one bag weighs as much as my two and we are hard pressed to move around. I had wanted to take the bus because the ride ends much closer to the YHA we’ll stay at the first night. I’m concerned that Mark will have a hard time schleping all that bulk up the hill. The train station is much further so my concern grows. As we board the train I think “my bike is at the train station and we can load both mine and Mark’s panniers on it and walk up to the Y” problem solved.

We have to change trains in order to get to Salisbury which requires us to schlep all our stuff off the train down the stairs, and then back up the stairs. As we wait for the train Mark has a snack and we people watch on the packed platform. We have arrived at rush hour which in England means packed trains and buses along with the roads. I think “the train to Salisbury should be empty since we are going away from London” wrong. We stand most of the way and I watch Mark peeking out the train door window to catch a glimpse of the country side. I’m reminded of doing the same thing on my first English train ride. We catch a seat about half way through the ride.

Upon arriving at Salisbury we head to the bike rack and low and behold my bike was still there (see picture). A bit dirty, tires a bit low, but still there which made me one happy camper. I explain to Mark my idea of how we’ll get all the bags to the Y. He need to go to the bathroom so smiling, out comes my handy, dandy tire inflator which, some may remember, works on CO2 cartages. I pulled out the two CO2 cartages that made the trip to England and found that they were both used. NOW WHO DID THAT????? So I use the hand pump, which I left on the bike and had also remained there for a year, to pump up the tires. Mark returns and we begin our walk to the Y, which is easy until we reach the hill leading up to the Y. We make it! There is more but I’ll tell it tomorrow I’m off to bed, Mark is going to stay up a while and write for his blog.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Salisbury
Today was an exercise in being present, having fewer expectations, and letting go to so emotional weight that I’ve allowed to hang on me. Today I start with the realization this is the fourth year of staying here without knowing any of the staff’s names, nor have taken the time to find out, it is time to do that. I talk to Liz, Daily, and Alex using their first names treating them like people with lives, not paid servants. I ask them questions about their lives, which they are more than happy to answer. No judgments about them or what they have said by keeping the external dialog going while keeping the internal one quiet. Next the Bar maid, oh then the store clerk, and then the waitress, all of whom the mind could have released a flood of judgments about, are now people with names and lives of importance.

Back to yesterday after spending several hours walking around Salisbury looking at different bikes we jumped on a bus to Amesbury where I had purchased my bike. One of the owners a fellow named Darrin remembered me which gave cause to chat about how the bike was doing. I reminded him that I had stopped in last year so he could fix my broken derailer. As Mark looked Darrin and I chatted about life in Arizona. During this conversation Darrin made some remarks that led to my thinking “He thinks Mark and I are a Gay couple.” This led to the thought that there was a need for me to say something to set him straight. I’m conscience of me being involved in an external dialog while having an internal dialog. The internal dialog was a reaction to the external dialog which was built on something my mind had perceived as a truth. Now I become, myself observing me having both and internal and external dialog and the process of arriving at a belief that needed to be acted upon.

Mean while Mark found a bike he liked, which lead to some conversation about how the bike could be gotten back to Salisbury. One, Mark could ride it back. I thought back to my ride to Salisbury after purchasing the bike here, nope he’d never make it. I said so, he agreed. Two, I could ride it back however the bike could not be put together and ready until 4pm which was a bit late for that. Or, it would require another bus ride in the morning then the ride back on a bike that was not sized to me. Four, Darrin comes up with the idea of him driving us and the bike back to Salisbury; which he did. So now I notice I’m thinking “Boy this guy must be hard up for a sale.”

Within a few moments I observed myself coming up with judgments about Darrin based on what my mind had interpreted, but had to proof. Based on some comments my mind told me he was gay and therefore believed Mark and I were, then had taken a positive gesture and turned it into a negative one. On the ride back I am quiet filled with introspection about my belief that this non-productive belief system no longer resided within me; yet here it was. I saw a mocking smile suspended in space like the Cheshire cat’s. I’m sure that if this belief system was suspended once before it could be again.

We woke up at 7am (Tuesday) in time to have the breakfast that comes with our accommodations. I’d booked us a private room at the Salisbury YHA a month ago. We were so tired that neither of us woke the other with our snoring as we have done in the past. Usually the Y has a mixed age and nationality group in their rooms. This time, however, there are us and 32 English children on a school outing for the week. During breakfast Mark tells me that he was able to tell all the children a story last night after I turned in. It seems that the group was brought down to the common room in pj’s and given a choice of being read two stories. Mark gave them a third choice which they accepted. He was quite happy about getting and keeping the children’s interest as he spun his tail. We take a ride to the Pound Store and Halfords, a bike store, to pick up a few things. We return to the Y where I clean my bike up a bit and Mark attaches objects to his. I cringe as the hated GPS devise is attached along with being angry that it is here. I say nothing because I know he uses it as a speedometer and mileage keeper track of much like the little deal I have attached to my bike. I don’t know if he used the GPS system for anything else during the time we spend riding. At time he’d say we rode so many miles, or gone so fast, but nothing more. The result I actually forgot he had it and it caused no dissention between us.

It is now time for us to take a ride on a route that is of moderate difficulty which would be a good starting place. Having done this ride before, several times, I set believe that Mark can do it with a little prompting. There are some things that must be done when riding on the narrow, sometimes hilly roads of England. One, there is a need to ride as close to the shoulder as possible so cars, buses, trucks can pass you. Two, is to be able to ride very slowly wobbling as little as possible. The slowness comes for going uphill on a fully loaded bike sometimes slower then someone walking. Riding in low gears and wobbling gives you little control over the bike and you can end up in front of a vehicle or in a ditch. Both have happened to me and I’ve gotten hurt by this on several occasions. I want this trip to be a great experience for Mark so his getting hurt is out of the question. On the ride I’m behind Mark telling him he needs to ride closer to the shoulder, maybe get off and walk, or ride in a higher gear. As we ride he becomes irritated with me for telling him several times “stay out of the middle of the road.” Several cars and a bus come up on us a high rate of speed. There is barely room for them to get passed us sending a clear message that venturing into the road is not in your best interest.

Along the way he gets off the bike rubbing his leg and telling me he has a “Charlie horse.” “You need to ride through it if we’re going to ride any distance” is my answer as I ride by. Urged on he no longer gets off the bike on hills, slowly makes his way to the top, pushes to get through pain and fatigue. Arriving back in Salisbury I tell him “You have just ridden what you said yesterday you could not.” We had ridden the distance of going to Amesbury including riding up some of the worst hills in the area. I am hoping he is please with what he has accomplished today. We talk about our first venture into the English country side tomorrow. On the map I show different rides to get to a next campground. All will be twice as long as the ride we did today, he says “I can do it.” We decide to ride north to where there is a canal to ride along which is flat. This will require us to travel 25 miles in about six hours.

After arriving back from our bike riding adventure we have a dinner of Tomato and Pepper soup in the common room of the Y, and do a little writing on the computer. Mark has agreed to tell the children yet another story. I hear the children clapping with abandon when he finished, and has quite a smile on his face when he returns as we head off to sleep.(Posted 5/23/2009)

Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Salisbury to Wilcot
I have a feeling after breakfast the bikes came out from the shed to be loaded for the journey. Heading down the road the first mishap is Mark falling off his bike not far from the YHA. Then the second is Mark falling off his bike in the middle of town. Oh Oh third mishap landing him in the middle of the road. Each time I wait expectantly for him to say “I don’t want to do this,” thankfully nothing hurt except maybe pride, he rides on. His mishaps reminded me of falling off my bike several times the first year. After getting up, hurting each time, I wonder if this is one of my better ideas. I remember thinking I’ll sell the bike get a suitcase and train and bus the rest of the way, which I did not. It must be a cosmic learning thing of some kind that is a requirement of riding in England.

It was about 9am when we left and it takes us until 6pm to reach Wilcot which is about 28 miles north of Salisbury. Mark tells me we have changed elevation which adds up to 1200 ft, which I guess means that the cumulative climes we made. The ride has its share of narrow roads with hills to struggle up and wiz down always on the lookout for assorted cars, buses, and Lories barley fitting past each other. There are times we have to walk up a steep hill as peddling is slower. The scenery is full of different shades of green, huge tree who’s branches leaves give you the feeling of riding into a tunnel. Flowers of every color dot the landscapes, but are out done my fields full of yellow flowers. The sun has poked out from behind the clouds now and again allowing a cool refreshing breeze to make the ride very pleasant. Pleasant of course until your ass begins to hurt, legs begin to tire, and hills seem to get steeper as time rolls on. I ask Mark how he feels about his accomplishment and he says “I rather had done it in two days.” I am disappointed by the remark and I think Mark has made a ride which I think is a wonderful achievement and it seems is not impressed. When I first made a ride like that I was in agony, but ecstatic about the accomplishment.

My friend Gary has walked the Camino in Spain and often talked to me about wanting me to do it. However, he wants me to get what he did and we talk about how we hope people will experience the same things we do when traveling on a trip like this. When they don’t we become disappointed and our experience of the current trip is diminished. However, they may get something we didn’t and it’s all just different views of the same world. Now I ride away from Mark with all kinds of beliefs about and am saddened by the outcome of our first ride. During dinner he expresses that it seems he’s not met my expectations because he rode to slow or had to walk. I tell him he exceeded my expectations but seemed not to be impressed with what he had accomplished. He tells me he is impressed, but would rather have not had the experience of doing the trip in two days.

Wilcot is a very small town with a wonderful pub called the Golden Swan. I visited here last year by chance and this year by our choice. The Pub is run by a very nice couple Peter and Stephanie Tasker who have done a marvelous job with the old pub. The food is to die for as is the atmosphere of this 150 year old pub. Peter tells me he is having a birthday party for the pub in July, sadly I’ll be back in the home by then. While eating dinner we strike up a conversation with Sandra who is a Wilcotian since 1959. She is part American her father is from Louisiana who had married her mother during the war. Her daughter and grandson are visiting from New Zealand chat with us also. Sandra tells up about the Crop Circles that start appearing around this time of year. After dinner Mark and I spend time writing on the computer then off to sleep. Our tents are set up on a field behind the Pub, and as we approach I see a car has parked rather close to Mark’s. Hope the driver does not have too much to drink and drive over Mark on the way out.

This ride was different from last year as I found a new route to get the Wilcot. Tomorrow the plan is to ride the canal to Devizes, rest for the night then on to Bath. While Mark was setting up his tent I walk down to the canal to have a look. It is as narrow as I remember it from last year’s harrowing ride. I’m thinking this is not a good plan as Mark is still working on getting less wobbly at slow speeds. However, it is not raining so it might be a go. The tow path is about 8 to 10 feet wide covered with grass except for a thin trail in the middle where the grass has been worn away from people walking or riding.