England - Part IX

England 2009 - IX

Thursday, May 4, 2009
Delamere to Oxford

After making breakfast it’s time to pack up as the train leaves at 11:45am and its now 9. The old train station at Delamere has been converted into a café so I have a tea and wonderful piece of pie. Three train changes and four hours later I’m back in Oxford and after a bit of riding around I find the campground on the edge of town. I’m tired so again I get some groceries from a local market, have dinner and sleep. I have some plans about tomorrow and I’ll let them fester overnight. I can return to Birkenhead via Wales, or return to Salisbury in time for the closing night of the festival, which I’ve attended for the last three year.

Friday, May 5, 2009
Oxford to Reading to Salisbury

It’s about noon before I’m up and on the way, yet still somewhat undecided as to where to head next. I’m riding the bike path along the Tames toward the Oxford rail station when I come upon a map of the Bike/waling path along the Tames which ends in Reading and hooks up to the Kenneth and Avon Canal I’d ridden earlier. It is a bit of a twisty route to get there, but from there I could head anywhere. Hmmmm ride the Tames path to Reading then catch the train to Salisbury. I could be there by around 8pm I think. Sound like a plan so off down the Tames Path toward Reading with no idea how far the ride is.

My head tells me it was 19 miles from Newbury to Oxford and Reading is parallel to Newbury add in a bit for the twisty part so call it 25 k that’s doable. The nice gravel path becomes narrow dirt then grass or some mixture thereof. The only time the path turns to nice gravel is when there is a town or lock. I ride check the maps along the path, O.K. seems to be going nicely. The path slowly becomes an obstacle course of endurance, problem solving, and awareness. The first obstacle that presents itself is a gate. These gates are like half a revolving door, you have to swing the gate away from you get in the space provided then swing the gate past you and then you exit the other side. They are made for one person at a time to fit though, but not a fully loaded bike.

This means unloading the bags off the bike, putting them on the other side of the gate, then lifting the bike over the gate, then getting through the gate, and putting everything back together. After looking about a bit the gate gods have blessed me with an opening in the fence. The path goes from wide grass filled fields to a narrow weed choked path. It is now raining, on goes my handy rain jacket, the panniers and back pack are covered with rain covers. Passing through a normal gate, that just opens and lets one ride though, the next obstacle presents itself. A herd of about twenty cows are congregating around the next gate under the trees that grow there. I wait in the rain hoping they are just going to hang out for a bit then move on. Nope! I approach they look up but do not move. I move closer more look up still not moving. “Shoo” does not seem to work, I’m now about three feet away. Pointing toward were I would like them to head “Go no get down the road, scoot, go, go.”

They seem scared to death of me and I surely don’t want to start a stamped. Several boats pass by, I wave, they laugh, and I smile. “Go on not get” as I edge toward the gate and they seem to get the idea. They actually trip over each other to get out of my way. The head cow is moving away from the gate and most are following her, but some decide they need to smell me. Go ahead I used deodorant this morning. A couple of more “Shoos and I’m through the gate. The path is mud now and the grass is slick with rain my back tires slips and slides making it hard to keep balance. After passing though a gate I see no sign of the path, nothing it’s gone. Back through the gate through the wood and weeds I see the top of a lock. Heading in that direction I find the path, if you want to call it that, completely overgrown with weeds.

Swooshing through the wet weeds I find the lock which needs to be crossed in order to follow the path. The walk way is about 2ft wide so it takes some doing to get me and the bike across without falling in. locks are really deep, really, really deep. On the other side I faced again with one of the half a revolving door gate. I look around for another escape route, but find none. I looking at the gate getting ready to unload the bike, and really look at the gate. Duh! I lift the gate off the hinges that hold it place it out of the way and walk though with my bike, then put the gate back. There are cows all around me as I ride on toward a walking bridge that leads back to the other side of the river. On the bridge is a note which says “Cows have new calfs. Stay far away from them”

Over the bridge I go and promptly lose the path again. I’m sure the sign pointed this way. After parking the bike I trudge back over the bridge the marker points under the bridge not over it. Back to get the bike then on the way again, still raining, keeping away from the cows, there seems to be a town ahead. There is a very busy roadway on my left which seems to be where the Tames Path is taking me. Sure enough I’m at another gate, which does not come off its hinges, and I have to unload. Riding up to a round-about the sign directs me straight ahead to Reading. From here on it will be the road for me with only 15k to go. I’m down to 13k and there is a sign for a campground. After some consideration I ride on, the rain has stopped, there is a bike lane so no riding in the road. You have got to be kidding, is my back tire going flat? No just seems to need some air. After pumping it up and riding a bit more there is another round-about and the sign indicated Reading is 12k ahead, it also indicates Didcot is off to my right. Looking to my right there on the sky line are the two reactor chimneys that are right smack next to the rail station.

I know this because I’ve been to Didcot before on the way to Wales. The hell with Reading it’s off to Didcot which is a only 7k away. At the next round-about I see a railroad station sign pointing down the road. Well that’s got to be closer then Didcot so I follow, it is, however it is an unmanned station. There is a machine where I buy a ticket back to Salisbury then have to figure out which platform I need to be on and it’s a roll of the die. There are no lifts so it is unload the bike take the bags up the stairs, then back down for the bike. The indicator states that the next train will be there in about 15 minutes. Young couples come on to the station joking about getting on a train going in the wrong direction. Could this be an Omen? On the train a sweet voice announces that the next station is Didcot and then Oxford. Yep and Omen!

I going in the wrong direction, so upon reaching Didcot and detraining and after a discussion with the conductor I’ll soon be heading for Reading where I’ll change for a train to Blasingstoke, the change again for Salisbury getting there around 8pm that will work. Boarding the train at Reading I tie up my bike, put my backpack in the luggage bin, and then sit to relax a bit while reading all the papers that have been left on the seat. “Next stop Blasingstoke” I’m ready to get off the train in a flash, check in with the conductor get to the correct platform and I’m almost “home.” I’ve been trying to call my mother for a few days now so I try again and finally get her on the line. After hanging up I think I’ve got 30 minutes to kill I’ll read some. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks, as I look about for my backpack to get my book. NO BACKPACK!!! I’ve gone and left the bloody thing in the luggage compartment on the last train.

The backpack has my computer in it, not much else of value, just the computer. There is an information desk handy so I explain the situation telling the agent that my backpack, “Rutsack?” “Yeah Rutsack” I say on the train that is now bound for Southhampton. He takes down the information, makes two calls and says “All we can do now is wait to see if they find it.” I sit and think about what I’ll do if they can’t find it. I could call the credit card I purchase it on and see if there is coverage for missing items. Other than that there is nothing much else except to buy a new one and get on with life. It’s about five minutes to the time when my train is do at the station The telephone rings, the agent answers, I wait, he hangs up slowly turns to me and “Well you are in luck they have it at Southhampton Central station. If you get on the next train and take it there you can get you rutpack and let’ see, yes, you can get back to Salisbury by 12am.” Déjà Vo! This happened last year after returning from France I reached Salisbury at midnight.

Off to Southhampton Central which will take one and a half hours, get my rutsack, and wait an hour for the train to Salisbury. Upon arriving I retrieve my rutsack, the settle into wait for the train to Salisbury, now I can read my book. Unloading from the train in Salisbury the back tire has gone low again so there is no riding and I head immediately to the White Heart hotel, same as last year. Tonight there will be a long hot shower and a warm bed.

Saturday, May 6, 2009 (The 65th Anniversary of D-Day)
Salisbury

I get a free breakfast with my room and it is quite a lay out. Almost everyone in the dining room is dressed quite nicely; there are even some with jackets and ties. Now it is time to change the tube on the bike then head to the y where I’ll spend night. Walking in to the registration desk, Liz is behind the counter and greets me with a big smile and wave. We chat for a bit, but there is a big group checking in and I leave to set up. It is nice to be greeted like that after a long eventful trip. My older set of panniers has taken quite a beating on this last trip and so has the bike. It is market day and you know how I love to go to the market, also get some coffee.

I buy a new rear light for my bike since the one’s I’d purchased at Poundland did not last very long indeed. After picking up the things needed to repair the bags and bike I head down to the pub for some time Online. Then it’s time for the Salisbury Festival Finale, which I’ve attended every year. It is not a pleasant evening, the skies are full of dark clouds that have blocked out the sun most of the day, and the wind is blowing which drops the tempter even more. I arrive at the Cathedral in time for Evesong and join the small gathering. I just love to hear the organ and the choir in this beautiful Cathedral. While listening to the music in my mind’s eye I run through different dress that people attending this 750 year old choir have worn. 1200, 1300, 1400, each year attempting to see what they looked like as the worshiped here. Wondering what they talked about, and how during much of that time there were on chairs so all had to stand during the service. 1700’s when many of the grave stones in the floor were still new and readable, which many no longer are.

Salisbury plain saw much fighting in its time and was part of the staging area for U.S. troop for D-day which is today. I visualize U.S and English service men along with the locals praying here before the invasion. The service is over and it is time for the Festival, but not one is around. I find a seat on a bench near the stage and wait. At first I think the things been canceled, silly me, slowly they arrive, and they fill the field. Out first are the blankets and carpets to sit on, next the wine, then the chairs and food. Sitting huddled together all making believe it is not as cold as it is. They drink cold beer, wine and champagne, waiting for the music and fireworks. Hugging and kissing of friends, children running about with painted faces, food passed about, and laughing, and lots of laughing. The roped off area for dancing is empty, but I know it will be soon filled no matter what music is playing.

The first two bands are from India, the last band of the evening will be from Austria. Indian band number one is Indian music jazzed up, they have a couple of dancers, and a singer there O.K. Between the bands are two “Comedians” who attempted to be Abbot and Costello, Laurel and Hardy, and Martin and Lewis with a little Houdini thrown in, they suck. The second band is called Kismet and they put the party goes in high gear. They have a drummer how’s beat get feet tapping, head bobbing, and bodies swaying. Now this is not to be confused with a drum set you see with most bands, they had that also, but he had one drum which he played at both ends. He played and danced and sang with a driving beat that had the dance area filled with clapping, jumping bodies. At one point he the back got almost all the audience up, young and old, and clapping and jumping up and down to this hypnotic beat.

He had the audience signing in Indian, having no idea what they were saying but what the hell it was great fun. Now singing, clapping, jumping, and whirling in place the beat drove them on. I can guarantee that no one cared about the coolness any longer, and I jumped, clapped and swayed with them. All the while hoping my rudsack would not disappear from its hiding place under the bench I’d vacated. This lasted for an hour and I’ve yet to see many bands that could equal the energy this group put out; just amazing. The last group was 17 Hippies from Austria who kept the crowed on the dance floor with more traditional rock music. The crowed was thinning; I headed back to the Y before it got to dark. I did not need to see the fireworks as they would be anti-climatic to the bands of the evening.

Sunday, May 7, 2009
Salisbury

Today I spent four hours attending services at the Cathedral. I don’t go to church much anymore, only when dragged by my kids for some reason or other. Kevin and I had recently gone to a service that was one of the reasons for my lack of attendance. We had a nice discussion on the way home about what had been presented there. I got here to listen to the choir and the organ, especially when then have the full choir it is quite magical. The minister sermons here have made much more sense to me then some of the drivel I’ve heard back home. Then thinking that this was the church that Henry VIII created when he broke with the Catholic Church, and Elizabeth I restored after Bloody Mary’s reconciliation.

Monday, May 8, 2009
Salisbury

I’ve moved to the campground and have the spot that Mark and were given when we first arrived. I’m sleeping a lot as if the tiredness of work has finial caught me. Today I slept until noon and did not want to get up then. When I did get myself up and dressed I was fixing some things on the bike when I notices something off with bikes peddles. Yesterday I could no longer shift into high gear, and in looking around today it seems that the front sprocket seems to have moved away from the bike. I did not have the tools to take it off so I went to town to get a second opinion. Behind the front gear are two rings that hold in bearing the crankshaft ride on. One of those rings had come lose and was forcing the off the crankshaft. The bike shop said I’d have to leave if for the day and see if the rings could be screwed back in. If not the bike was then considered unfixable, or not worth fixing.

After diddling around town I returned to find that the Bottom Bracket had to be replaced to the tune of 51 pounds, ouch. So next year a couple of new rims, along with a new chain and I’ll have a practically new bike, kind of. It is amazing what a difference the bracket makes. I can tell that most of the last ride was so hard do to the ring coming out.

I’m still working out how to get to Austria and thing I’ve almost there.

Tuesday, May 9, 2009

Salisbury

Slept until noon then checked out train schedules and plane schedules, looked at maps getting close.

Wednesday, May 10, 2009

Salisbury

Talked with the Nigel and Wendy, campground manages, and told them what I wanted to do. They told me I can’t leave my tent unattended for more the two nights, so leaving it for a 5 day is out. However, they did offer to keep it in their garage for me so all I’ll have is one bag. So the plan is to train to Stanford, fly to Graz, stay at a youth hostel there, train to Furstenfield, then bus to Gussing. I’m still checking out bus systems in Austria and hostels, but it’s looking good. I’m going to try to leave England by Sunday, returning the following Wednesday the 16th. Since the summer solstice is coming up I’ve booked my camping spot for the week before I head home. So this year I’ll be a Stonehenge, alone with 30,000, other crazies to witness the rising of the sun, and hopefully get to touch the stones themselves.