Tintagel Castle to Westward Ho!

I've been tired today after yesterday's 68km ride from Tintagel Castle to Westward Ho! but it was a significant ride not only because it's quite a way, but also because it was my first border crossing.  Yes, I crossed from Cornwall into Devon, and on each side of the border I've been confronted by folk saying that they hope I only eat scones their way as their way is the right way!  For those of you unaware of this eternal battle between the Cornish and the Devonians, they have forever been at war about whether you should first put the cream on the scone with the jam on top or the jam on first with the cream on top.  Now I have to get this right or I'll be lynched ... I think the Cornish insist on jam first with cream second and Devonians insist on cream first with jam on top.  Personally, I agree with the Cornish because the cream on a scone has a habit of sliding off, and if the jam is on top of the cream then that will slide off with it, leaving one with only a mouthful of scone.  Sure, that's better than a mouthful of nothing, but if I'm having a scone I want something on it.  Also, I reckon that having jam on top of the cream (as those in Devon insist) is going to make the cream top-heavy, thus even more likely that the whole lot is going to slop onto the plate.  I suppose the Devonians might argue that the cream is kind of a fat replacement for butter and that one would instinctively put butter on before jam, but cream is not butter, it is cream.  It has its own mouth-watering yumminess and should be treated on its own merits rather than as a replacement for anything.  However, I'm not going to shout this too loudly while I'm in Devon for fear of being pelted with stale scones.

Before I crossed the scone war border, I still had a few days in Tintagel to rest and explore.  As promised, I spent quite a while looking for two famous blokes from the area - King Arthur 

Image from Google Images

and Merlin

Image from Google Images

I am greatly disappointed to report that neither were able to come to tea in my tent.  They were both tricky to find as they'd changed somewhat since these pictures of them were done, and Arthur was being closely guarded by royal henchmen...

Image from Google Images

...who were outraged that I was attempting to invite His Royal Highness to tea in a tent with a rectangular table!  They demanded a round table!  I said I would oblige and went off to look for one, and what do you know? I even found his original!

Great!  I thought I was all set, but when I finally managed to find old King Arthur again, and then get him on his own, he was completely obsessed with trying to pull a big old sword out of a lump of rock.

Photo from Google Images

He was taking a break here because I'd interrupted him, but he wasn't going to let up so in the end I left him to it and went off to hunt for Merlin.  He was an even trickier fellow to find, and it turns out that he's changed loads.  Of course, I should have remembered that the reason Merlin was said to be able to predict the future was because he lived his life backwards, so I really shouldn't have been surprised to find how he'd aged.

Photo from Google Images

I hadn't accounted for him having aged backwards, and when I did eventually find him in a pram outside the Post Office, I didn't imagine that he'd really be wanting to join me for a cuppa and a scone. I guess he'd have preferred milk and a rusk, but the conversation wouldn't have been quite what I'd hoped.

So instead of having folk round for a last Cornish cream tea I went for a mooch in the Tintagel Old Post Office and farmhouse - a National Trust property

It's small, but definitely worth a look around if you're in the area.  If you're not in the area then do take a look at the above link.

Yesterday morning it was time for me to pack up my tent, stuff the dining table into the panniers, cram in the four poster camp bed too, and set on my way to Westward Ho! on the North Devon coast near Bideford.  It took me two and a half hours to cover the 68km (42.5 miles) distance, and I did 25km of it at four gears of higher resistance than my usual.

My sole reason for making Westward Ho! one of my stopping off points was because it is the only British place name officially with an exclamation mark in it.  I've since learnt how that came to be, and it's all down to Charles Kingsley, author of The Water Babies.  I may get some of the details wrong, but this is what I remember from what I've read.

Charles Kingsley lived in nearby Bideford and wrote a book based there, and the book was called Westward Ho!  An entrepreneur in the area thought it would be a great money spinner to build a hotel in the area called the Westward Ho! Hotel, and did so by the cliffs on the coastline not far outside of Bideford.  As time went on, other businesses and small industries began to crop up in the area, making the most of the tourism that the hotel was generating, and with that came the need for places for the workers to live.  Thus sprung a small town getting it's name from the hotel, which had in turn taken its name from the book.  Fascinating, huh?

Being a book-ish type, this rather appeals to me and I'm glad that I've made a stop here, and now that I'm here I'm really rather enjoying the place.

I decided that I would treat myself to a couple of nights in a hotel in Westward Ho! because when I move on from here on Monday I have a very long ride, so I could do with a pampering weekend.  I'm not staying at the Westward Ho! Hotel, partly because I don't think the original one still exists, but also because I was very taken with this wonderful B&B, The Waterfront Inn.  Doesn't it look fabulous!  So airy and comfy, and a fantastic bar with lots of local beers and ciders on tap.

Mind you, shouldn't they be selling Devonshire Farmhouse Cyder instead of the Cornish stuff?  Perhaps there isn't the same rivalry with cider as there is scone and cream/jam serving.  I feel it is my duty as a tourist to support local business and test their regional cider and beer, don't you agree?  Maybe not tomorrow night as I'll need a clear head for Monday morning, but no worries trying it tonight, especially as I've had a busy day.

I had a lovely lie in this morning, enjoying the comfortable bed and lack of wind flapping at the tent, and then I went out for a wander.  I'd been for a little explore yesterday evening and discovered that the beach is rather lovely.

Photo from Google Images

 As you can see, there's a big expanse of sand, making it a holiday-maker's dream for sunbathing, picnicking, dog walking, and digging holes to Australia.  What you can only see a little of in this photo is the great Pebble ridge that runs between the sandy beach and the cliffs.  I understand that the pebbles/rocks fall from the cliff face and quickly have iron stains removed from them by the action of the waves, which also shape the grey sandstone into the round-edged pebbles we see today.  I can't claim to know how long this process takes, or why it is of particular prevalence here, but it has apparently been happening here for thousands of years.  Anyway, I think there's something rather beautiful about them.

These 3 photos from Google Images

Westward Ho! beach is a great place for rock pooling, and in amongst the rock pools is a tidal seawater swimming pool!

Photo from Google Images

Well, you should know by now that I'm a sucker for any opportunity to swim so of course I took a dip.

I couldn't resist a bit of posing when I came out.  I'm not sure why because I don't usually feel so comfortable in my own skin, but perhaps I was feeling sleek after all the bike riding I've been doing.  Whatever it was, I seemed to attract a bit of attention

I played it cool, though, and lounged by the pool to dry off instead of heading straight back to the bar with my spectators.  But I must have been more tired than I realised because I quickly fell asleep, and it wasn't such a comfortable place to be sleeping. I was lucky that the tide didn't come in while I was snoozing and wash me out to sea.

The benefit of my impromptu doze was that I got to see a beautiful sunset when I woke and was able to enjoy it all the way back to the hotel.

Both photos from Google Images

So getting back to today, after my delicious lie in I went back to the beach.  I love the beauty of the coast and the way it frees my mind.  Along these shores it's also a great place to people watch and to see how surfing is meant to be done, because Westward Ho! beach is another great haunt of surfers.  In fact, everyone here is so in to surfing that even the animals do it.  I don't just mean dolphins riding the waves, but people's pets - cats and dogs!

both photos from Google Images

'Well,' I thought, 'if the pets can do it then surely I must be able to master it!' I booked myself a lesson at the North Devon Surf School and gave it my all.

Photo from Google Images

Nope.  I still can't do it.  I think I will finally have to accept that I am not a natural born surfer, and having resigned myself to this I decided to stick to the much safer pass time of rock pooling.  There are some amazing little worlds to be found in the rock pools along Westward Ho! beach, with sea anemones, all kinds of seaweed, teeny tiny crabs, bigger crabs, the occasional jellyfish - though they more often lie like blobs on the sand - sometimes even a star fish, and not to mention all the pretty shells.

both photos from Google Images

You'd think I'd be safe from myself peering into rock pools, wouldn't you?  And perhaps I would have been if all I'd been doing had been peering in, but no, in all my infinite wisdom I thought it'd be great to get a closer look by having a little paddle in a rock pool.  What harm could possible come to me by having a wee mooch in the middle of the rock pool, lifting up a couple of bigger pebbles to see what lurked beneath?  I'll tell you what.  It turned out that the bigger pebbles were the opening of a canyon and before I knew it I'd fallen through the bottom of the rock pool into a submarine cave!

Photo from Google Images

It's not what you expect when you're minding your own business on the North Devon coast - to fall through the ground and find yourself being stared at by a zillion fish!  Plus, it was freezing!  Probably colder because it was such a surprise, and I have to say that the fish weren't too friendly either.  There was no friendly Nemo looking to help me or Dory forgetfully guiding me out.  No, they all just stared at me and darted around looking to tidy up their cave after my intrusion.  It was all I could do to get out of there, and thankfully I did, but after I'd found a piece of driftwood to cling on to I had to wait for an off-duty life guard to see me in the sea and come to my rescue.  Look, here's the proof...

Photo from Titanic still

The life guard was a bit dishy, don't you think? He made sure I was okay and then walked me back to the hotel.  I'm now tucked up in my room, warm and dry, and tomorrow I'm going to stay clear of the beach and take a little look at the headland.  I'll need a gentle day because Monday is a big one with an 87km (54.38 miles) ride to Wellington.

Please remember you can sponsor me for my journey (and blog writing) to raise funds for Pop-Up Gym, a small charity providing rehabilitation and exercise for folk with spinal injuries and other neurological conditions.  Please click on my Just Giving page and donate what you can.  I am grateful for every penny of sponsorship, as will be all who use the gym.

Perranporth to Tintagel Castle

My apologies for radio silence.  I have been a little tired after my cycle to Tintagel Castle yesterday, though it wasn't a terribly gruelling ride in comparison to how some are going to be.  The total distance was 60km, and here's the proof that I covered it.

Look at that symmetry too (bottom left of the screen)!  Bang on 50/50, although I have to admit that my average symmetry yesterday was a rather poor 35/65, but that's something I'm working on.

As promised in my last post, I did a couple of periods of yesterday's ride at increased resistance to represent hills.  I worked hard and did a 10km stretch and a later 5km stretch at four gears higher than usual, plus 3km each at two and three gears higher.  That's probably why my legs have been rather zingy today.

So since my last post I decided I'd peel myself away from The Watering Hole and have a little look around the town of Perranporth while I was there.  I came across this little museum - the Perranzabuloe Museum - that informs visitors about the rich history of Perranporth and the surrounding area, paying particular attention to the mining, fishing, farming, and of course surfing history.  There's also an area looking at the social history of the area, with a replica Cornish kitchen and costumes from back in the day.  It's not a huge place by any stretch of the imagination, but worth a visit if you're in the area, I reckon.

A little culture is a good thing, but being by the coast I'm constantly drawn to the sea, whether that's just looking at it or getting wet in it, so it wasn't long before I was braving the cold and going for a dip.

Yeah, it's not my best look, is it?  To be honest, it was so bloomin' cold that I didn't stay in long.  I couldn't.  I thought my fingers were going to freeze off ... and there's always that 'Oh my word! What the heck was that?!' moment when something unseen below the surface of the water rubs against you and you imagine it's a shark that's come to gnaw off a leg or an arm.  Still, the few minutes I bathed in the old briny were fun, and let's say invigorating.

Image from Google Images

To dry off after my swim I had a meander along the beach, loving the squish of the sand between my toes, and picking up pretty shells as I went.

Image from Google Images

Aren't they lovely?

Image from Google Images

Oh, no, wait.  That last one was dinner.

I was very excited when I stumbled across this Kitesurfing and beach sports place, and even more excited to see that they have facilities for disabled folk to take part in lots of the activities.  Determined to make the most of my time here, I just had to give it a go, but unfortunately the expectations I had of myself....

Image from Google Images

...weren't quite matched by my capabilities...

Image from Google Images

It's possible that I'm not quite the sportswoman I fool myself into believing I am.  But I will hold in mind the old adage, 'Practise makes perfect,' and so long as I'm having fun it doesn't really matter if I'm any good at it ... just so long as I don't mind being laughed at while I persist in these activities.  I don't.

Having provided the locals with some beach entertainment with my sporting antics it was time to pack up camp and set off for Tintangel Castle.  As I said before, the ride itself wasn't too bad, and I made good time, covering the 60km distance in 2 hours and 20 minutes.

Tintagel is a small village famous for its association with King Arthur and for being the site of his last stronghold.  It's this site that draws in the tourists, including myself, and no matter that it's ancient it is still amazing and dramatic, although there are a huge number of steps from the village to the castle.

With the connection to King Arthur then of course there's also the association with Merlin, and as you make your way up, down, around, up, and down, and up the steps to the castle, the guide book points out Merlin's Cave - the cave you can see across the inlet.

 

I guess this is where Merlin was said to huddle, but it seems a bit mean to me that Arthur didn't let him kip in his castle.  I mean, it looks like it was big enough, and the tide rises into Merlin's Cave so the old guy would have been repeatedly soaked to the bone.

While I was up the top, beyond the castle on the headland, I thought I'd keep an eye out for Arthur and Merlin.  So far no luck, though I did see this guy looking for some peace and enlightenment, or just feeling the mysticism of the place.  He looked happy anyway, but I don't think he was either Arthur or Merlin ... though, to be fair, I didn't ask him.

I'm under the impression that the guys I'm looking for look like this...

I must bear in mind that they might have aged a little by now, and that as these aren't photos some artistic licence may have been employed, but I'm hoping there's a close enough likeness that I'll recognise them when I see them.  If I see them.  I'll let you know if I come across them, and maybe I'll see if they'd like to come to my tent for a cuppa, though I'd feel the need to apologise for the shape of my table.

Speaking of tents, I've pitched mine up at The Headland Caravan Park

I haven't had a chance to look around the site much yet, but it seems quiet at the moment and not too expensive for the facilities it provides.  I'm not sure they realise quite how spacious my tent is on the inside though or they'd probably charge me extra.  I never did get around to showing you my camp bed, did I?  It's a bit more luxurious than most, but I do like the extra comfort and space.

The curtains are great because they keep out any draft that comes through any slight gap at the bottom of the tent door zip, and the duvet is really snuggly.  Sometimes I use a sleeping bag instead of the duvet to get that more usual camping experience feeling, but I love the silky satin duvet covers I've got.  Nice colour, don't you think?

Well, speaking of bed, I think it's time I crawled into the tent and got comfy on the camp bed.  I'm here for a few days so I'll go for a venture into the village in the next day or two.  I've unexpectedly had to slightly extend my stay at Tintagel so I won't be moving on until Friday, but then I'll be off to Westward Ho!  Remember you can sponsor me for my epic bike ride at my Just Giving page to raise funds for Pop-Up Gym, and that every donation, however small, is hugely appreciated.

Land's End to Perranporth

Please excuse the date on this photo.  It is neither 2006 nor 26th August, as you know, but clearly they haven't got around to changing the date on the sign post since the last time I was here.  Also, I must mention that while the sign correctly indicates that it is 874 miles from from Land's End to John O'Groats, I am doing considerably further because I am taking the scenic route so that I can stop at interesting places along the way, thus my total distance will be 1,022.5 miles/1,636km.

Anyway, here I am.  Or rather, there I was.  I made it down to Land's End, having called in virtual help from the Great North Air Ambulance.

I thought it more reliable than magic carpet, and much quicker than road or rail.  Sure enough, it was an easy flight, and there were no diversions for emergency attendance.

Seeing as there's a good hotel at Land's End - well, three star, so okay - I thought I'd try and get a good night's sleep here rather than start things off in a tent.  There'll be plenty of time for that along the way.  It also meant that instead of spending lots of time setting up camp and unpacking the double bed I was able to have a look around.  Here are a few photos from my meander

The flight and the wander must have tired me out because I slept well.  Rather too well as I overslept and was thus a little late in getting up and getting going on the ride.  After dashing to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, I was at the starting point for my virtual bike ride only twenty minutes after I'd planned.  So yes, at 11.20am I was ready at the First and Last house of England.

Unfortunately I've had a few technical issues in that I've completely forgotten how to use Photoshop because it's so long since I last used it, so for the moment I'm not able to upload photos of me on site.  I am disappointed, but I will rectify the issue as soon as possible.

It was heaving when I arrived at the First and Last House, and I couldn't actually get to my MotoMed for a while. The delay increased the anticipation and nervousness of getting going, the enormity of what I was about to embark on hitting me head-on, but I didn't have to wait too long, and soon enough I was setting off towards Perranporth Beach.

I started off slowly, taking my time to warm up, but as I was eager to feel like I was making progress I picked up the pace fairly quickly, and I had soon left the hoards behind.  Here I am well on the way, although I agree it is very difficult to see where on the route I actually was...

...but I suspect it was somewhere around St. Ives, where I was almost tempted to stop and have a look at the Tate St Ives and the Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden.  I was still only less than half my way to Perranporth though, so I forwent the luxury of a break and kept on pedalling, even delaying lunch until I arrived at my destination.  I think I made pretty good time in the end and arrived at Perranporth Beach shortly after 2pm. It's beautiful.

(These three photos are taken off Google Images)

I took a while to absorb the wonderful surroundings, and to take in the reality that I had actually completed the first 66km of my epic journey.  Oh, and here's the proof that I did it - distance is shown on the centre left.

I decided then to take a dip in the sea to cool off and wash away the sweat of the day, but to keep in with the local culture I dumped my bike and hired a surf board to ride the waves. Good huh?

What do you mean you've seen that photo on Google Images?! You think I'm lying, huh?

Okay, there's a small possibility that may not actually be me. Is this one more believable?

Stop sniggering at the back! Yep, that is more more how I would take to surfboarding, and I confess to never actually managing to stand up on a surf board even before my spinal cord injury, way back in the days of my teenage years when I actually tried it.  Bodyboarding, which is basically catching the waves whilst lying on a much shorter board, was a lot easier and still great fun, so that's what I did.

Anyway, I digress.  Let me get back to the task in hand.

Much to my delight I discovered that Perranporth has a bar on the beach! The Watering Hole claims to be the only bar on a beach in the UK and probably in Europe, so I thought I'd better make the most of it.  Having dried off and hungrily devoured lunch, I ordered a drink and made myself at home while I watched the sunset and felt the burn of the exercise in my thighs.  It was those up hill miles that did it, those for which I increased the resistance on the MotoMed so that I get some variation in difficulty and give it a degree of authenticity for undulating terrain.  Of course I can't make it real, and there's no way I would be able to do the real thing no matter how fit I get because the Cauda Equina Syndrome will never again allow me that strength in my legs, but I want to make this as authentic as I can.  I won't be doing whole sections of the ride at higher resistance, but I will increase resistance for some period along each stretch, and for this section I increased it by four gears for around 15km.  I can still feel the effect today, and I suspect I will tomorrow too.  I'm hoping it eases in time for Monday's ride.

I would have quite liked to have stayed at The Watering Hole all night, but it's a bar not a hotel, and having failed to book anywhere to stay (oops!) I had to pitch my tent. 

It looks small, but it's much bigger on the inside than the out, and as you can see, there was plenty of space tonight for setting the table for Sunday dinner tomorrow

There's no harm in taking some of the creature comforts from home when you're going camping.  Sure it makes cycling harder when the panniers are packed with a dining table and chairs like this, and the candelabra was an awkward shape to squeeze in, but it's nice when you have space at the table to invite those you meet along the way to come and join you in your tent for a meal. 

So I'm all set up at Perranporth Beach and I'm here for the weekend. I'm taking it easy, probably spending most of my time lazing on the beach, perfecting my surfing and getting to know the locals at The Watering Hole. Of course there'll be Sunday lunch at the dining table tomorrow and who knows who I might bump into to share that with.  Right now I'd better get back to the tent.  I took a photo of the pitch before I set up camp...

Yup, it's a giant sundial just outside The Watering Hole.  I thought it'd be grand if I woke up in the night and wasn't sure what time it was ... only then I realised that it'd need to be a moondial.  Still, helpful in the morning when I haven't got my glasses on for reading the time on my watch.

Now then, to bed.  I'll get back to you in a day or two, most likely after the next leg of my journey from here to Tintagel Castle.  Remember that you can sponsor me for the ride on my Just Giving page and that every penny helps.

Almost

It's the night before the beginning of my virtual adventure and I have to say that I'm really quite nervous, although I'm not entirely sure why as the first leg of my ride is a 'mere' 66km and I did 70km on Wednesday during my last training session.  I think it's because from tomorrow it starts to matter. 

Don't get me wrong, I am looking forward to it and I'm excited about it, but I have a strange nervousness too ... Perhaps in part because I don't only want to make a success of the ride (and the blog), but I also want to reach or exceed my fundraising target.  It matters to me, it really does, and I think I'm only just realising how much it matters to me.  

Pop Up Gym opened in January.  I saw an item about it on the local news a week later, and two days after that I went for my introductory session.  It has already changed my life, and I am certain that it is going to change it a lot more as the months progress and I achieve whatever spinal rehabilitation potential I have.  But raising the money means more to me than just my own progress.  I see others there with injuries at other levels of the spinal cord, and several who have had strokes.  There's a young lad who's only ten who pedals his socks off on the FES function on the bikes and clearly enjoys what he's doing, and I see the pleasure on his father's face when he sees his son cycling again.  Folk of all ages, all backgrounds, all conditions, all come together in this small specialist gym on the edge of an industrial estate on the banks of the Tyne in Gateshead to rehabilitate themselves.  Many of us would never meet or mix if it weren't for Pop-Up Gym, but we enjoy each other's company, and I know that I have found unexpected relief in meeting others with similar conditions or different conditions with similar effects on our bodies.  But while it is some kind of neurological damage that has brought us together and united us, it isn't what we dwell on, what we spend most of our time talking about.  Of course those things come up in conversation, but we are about living and looking to the future.  We are about maximising our potentials, and now we have a place to strive for those goals.  Pop-Up Gym is more than just a place to exercise; it is a community of positivity.  There is no other facility like it within 200 miles or more, and that's why it is so important, and why reaching or exceeding my fundraising target is so important to me.  That is why I am nervous about beginning my ride tomorrow.

Please, if you can, sponsor me for this 1,636km/1,022.5 mile MotoMed bike ride.  Even 50 pence makes a difference and will help so many people with spinal cord injuries and neurological conditions.  My Just Giving page can be found here.

I guess I'd better be thinking about getting some rest, but I'll see you all tomorrow at the First and Last House in England at Land's End.  Kick off is at 11am.