This year’s Spring project is to cycle to Agincourt and then to Rotterdam. Leaving Brid on Monday 3rd April .
That is not all true. It will start on train, ferry, train, and train.
Lots to go wrong, but when has that stopped him?
You are quite right. The original quotation was not about lemmings, and lemmings hurl themselves to destruction in groups. But it is the best I can do.
Day -2
The excitement in Mayfield Rd is at fever pitch.
The plans have been revised to cope with the unlikelihood of sailing through Customs at Calais and the fact that the railway station for Paris/Metz is 6 miles away from the ferry
Mere details. I have rebooked the train Brid to Dover to arrive on Sunday, giving me plenty of time to get an early morning ferry.
Ah, the news is that there are long delays for the ferries Dover to Calais. Surely not for bikes?
We shall see.
Once in France, all that needs to happen is that the train will be in good time. And that I can get from one station to the other in Paris without being hit on the head by a half brick from the protesters. I will keep my cycle helmet on.
And I am still naive enough to find it all exciting and strange.
So the schedule is:
Monday to Metz by public transport. Tuesday Metz to Agincourt to relive the glories/follies of the 15th Century
I intend to take photos this time. That’s what I said last time
Karol Whettlock: Hope all goes smoothly! 🤞
Me: Smooth isn’t essential. In fact it will be worth it even if unforeseen difficulties arise. All part of life’s rich tapestry
“O day of rest and gladness” as it said in the 1933 Methodist Hymn Book (section “The Lord’s Day“). They have left it out of the new hymn book.
90 years later it isn’t the same. Well, not rest, but gladness, certainly.
The train was late into Bridlington. Even later once it reached Hull, when it gave up. No matter. We were all transferred into another train which arrived in Doncaster too late for the train for London.
The LNER staff were terrific again. They booked my bike on to the next train, then helped me haul it up to hook the front wheel on to the peg so that it didn’t take up as much room. Perhaps they were Scouts still needing to clock up their Good Turn for the day.
I will now look out for another poor soul to gladden in turn.
The plan for tomorrow is to get up when I wake up, then make my way to the ferry and hope they don’t care that I’ve booked a much later crossing.
I wonder if it is illegal to import Katy’s bean burgers into France. I hope so. It will then be possible to defy the Authorities by deferring eating the last beanburger until I am Abroad.
He is easily amused
Day 0
Note left for cleaners: “if you find my pyjama bottoms, leave them on the bed”. So ever resourceful I found a pair of what looked like jogging bottoms, and took them instead. They might well have been Judy’s’ even though she didn’t do a lot of jogging
Just as well. It was cold in Calais this morning, so I put them over my cycling trousers for complete satisfaction. I will remember that for another time.
Yesterday I discovered on the way to St Pancras from King’s Cross that my chain had become unaccountably slack
It may have been something to do with the bike having been hauled up to hang from the peg yesterday. Or the way I managed to get it down once in London. It has something to do with something being eccentric relating to the hub gears. I will find a cycle repair shop locally before setting off tomorrow.
Once in Dover yesterday I decided to walk the route to the ferry terminal, just to make sure. That was a good idea
I had stored the route on my SatNav which took me to the middle of nowhere and stopped. The actual terminal is over a mile away in a different direction
Anyway I established that it was possible to turn up whenever I liked this morning, so set off at 06:15 to clock in and catch the 07:30 ferry. People were again amazingly helpful. Lorry drivers let me in to check out my passport ahead of themselves, ferry staff went out of their way to get me first on the boat (?) and to get away. It all cheers me up no end.
I was the only cyclist on the ferry.
Breakfast was excellent. Yesterday was the end of Lent in the Butland ecclesiastical calendar in which Lent starts as soon as I finish a packet of real coffee. This morning I had the first caffeine rich non- vegetarian breakfast for 40 days. It and the privation must do me good.
I have cycled 7 miles to Calais Frethun station this morning and am waiting for the train to take me on eventually to Metz. “7 miles? I thought it was 6”. That’s if you don’t get lost.
Day 1 a day and a half
Arrived at Agincourt (ish) at 18:00 an hour later than expected, tired but happy. It has been a most eventful day.
The plan was to find a cycle repair shop and get my chain fixed by 11:00 which would give plenty of time to reach Agincourt by 16:00 photograph the field and reach my accommodation by 17:00.
The repair took all of 3 minutes. If I had known what you have to do I could have done it myself.
Next time it will be different.
It still took an hour to find the information bureau. They were all en vacances but I eventually found an official who gave me map and 3 address. They all opened at 10:00. Theoretically
But the man at address 2 was most helpful
He spoke decent English, asked me whether something was eccentric, and I told him confidently it was. He then diddled this then that, and the job was done. He was going to charge me 3 Euros, but I bought a pair of gloves as well. Money well spent.
The bells were chiming 11 as I tried to find the starting point for the journey to Agincourt. I left 30 minutes later once the SatNav was happy with my location.
Well, I was surprisingly weary. I think it was the shoulder that was knocked about in Nordhausen. I am never a speedy cyclist, but it all felt a bit laboured. Never mind. Keep on going. The journey continued reasonably steadily until the cycle path was blocked off. They were digging up the road and the barriers were non-negotiable. The SatNav was unhelpful and gave no alternative routes. I cycled back the way I came and had a vigorous conversation with an entirely French speaking couple. They looked at the planned route and suggested I should get onto the dual carriageway going in my direction. I cycled back, got to where I might go, and lost my nerve. On balance, the best thing to do was to go back to the impenetrable barrier and defeat it. The couple who told me to try the dual carriageway were disappointed. But no matter. And then I saw a sign with a bike and “diversion”. Yippee. It led to a town with a cafe and a nice lady who sold me the tiniest cup of coffee you have ever seen and a large bottle of Artisan apple juice. That felt better.
The SatNav battery ran out, but my be prepared precautions had persuaded me to load the same route on my tablet. Not quite so convenient but with tablet in my right hand, I could finish the journey at Ferme Monthieu. An hour late. The planned route for tomorrow was back to Metz by the same route. I will instead cycle the 6 miles to Nancy and get the train. That should give me time to find the field.
Well, that was all a challenge. I should not have been so sniffy when Karol wished me a smooth journey
PJB you should have really attempted to arrive at Agincourt at 1415
Me: If only I had thought of it. Next time. And now I have a message from booking.com that tomorrow night’s hotel has cancelled the booking. Nothing that we can’t deal with. If I’m getting the train from Nancy tomorrow I can go somewhere entirely different
17:08 – Me: Well, that was another day with considerable variation on the plan.
I had decided not to go to Agincourt, but to straight from last night’s farm to Nancy (tickle my fancy) and see what Rail options were on offer. Nancy was about 6 miles away.
Imagine my surprise when I entered the village of Agincourt. Maybe I had poked the wrong button. Maybe it was meant to be.
It was a tough route along a tractor track, much affected by mud and stones. As I left Agincourt I took a picture of the sign just in case you didn’t believe me.
There are a lot of hills in Agincourt. That was how the 7000 English archers slaughtered the 40000 French heavily armoured knights. It had been raining a lot then, as well, and they just got stuck in the mud. Well, that’s what the pre-BBC reporters said.
They also funnelled in to attack the English and got in each other’s way.
It’s plausible.
The particulars of the incident were that Henry V thought he was king of France. The king of France thought he wasn’t. The quarrel went on for years.
100 on and off.
So having unintentionally visited the little village of Agincourt, I went on over more tractor paths, getting wearier by the mile.
Copenhagen is off this Autumn. I am at last past it.
Once off the tractor tracks it got easier, but by the time I reached Nancy I gave up. There was a very nice young man in the ticket office who booked me trains to my next destination tomorrow. I will stay in Nantes and have a decent meal. Sadly, it wasn’t.
This is not going to be the all action 10 days as originally planned. I am behind schedule having messed around at Agincourt. Hence the trains tomorrow.
Still, I have walked all over Nantes which looks a very smart city.
Lesley: So where is the photo ? Sounds like you’re having fun
Me: <Media omitted> to be supplied. Just wait
Me: Here’s a thing. I think I am an illegal immigrant.
When the ferry docked at Calais I wandered off, probably along the lorry driver route. A young lady in a car waved at me and I followed her. Out.
No Customs checks. No officials stamping your passport.
The French used to send people they wanted to get rid of somewhere in the West Indies. A 19th century version of Rwanda. Well, it would be warmer.
I am now in Belgium. Do they send people to the Congo?
Me: It is 5 in the afternoon. I am in the mountains. The weather is wet and cold. Especially cold.
The cycle ride today was manageable. The rain didn’t help, but the main problem was being able to see the route on my mobile.
So once I had navigated out of the railway station, the next 12 miles were a joy and a delight by the banks of the river. What river? The one that flows through Namur.
Me: That report stopped in mid-stream as a message leaped in about running out of battery. Is WhatsApp battery hungry? I hadn’t been long on the road today, so was surprised.
Tomorrow will be a challenge. A lot of uphill struggle. But maybe it’s downhill that is more of a problem. The weather forecast is not encouraging. If it all looks unpleasant I will go down to the plain and along the river again. Now the compromise has been made and I have cheated by taking a train, I don’t feel bad about taking the easy option.
Come on. If you’re not enjoying it, stop.
I have been surprised how much last year’s crash has affected me. I am losing my nerve much sooner than before
19:34 – So it’s the end of another day taking the (not) easy option. The weather forecast this morning was not encouraging. Dry at first then serious rain up in the mountains. So downhill back to the river, and back along to Namur. It was uphill along the river, but still a lot easier than climbing another Ardenne.
The 2 young men in the ticket office were most helpful. One of them was a trainee, so this was a good project for him. The details to put in to the equation were:
1. An elderly gentleman
2. A touring bike
3. Ending up somewhere near the night’s accommodation.
He did it. When he asked me whether I was over 60, I laughed. Could I really pass as a 50 year old? It was a latter day version of the time in 1964 when I took the school football team on a bus and the conductor asked me whether I was full or half fare.
The young man turned the handle and came up with a remarkably low fare.
The bike was a problem at one of the stations where all the lifts were out of action. But both young men and ladies were most helpful. So on through bits of Belgium I never knew existed.
I am now in a comfortable room ready to sleep well. Yesterday I slept for a good 10 hours. Missing my mid day sleep makes a lot of difference.
Tomorrow looks easy. I’m down from the mountains, so all I have to do is not get lost.
08/04/2023, 15:07 – Me: Breakfast was substantial. It was the first good meal I had for several days. It lasted for a good hour. Leisurely. Life felt altogether better after it.
Today’s ride was flat and easy. I will stay 2 days here in South East Belgium, then 90 miles to the ferry for the overnight crossing on Tuesday.
What I haven’t mentioned is that the journey has marked the end of an era. The more sensitive of you may have noticed.
I hadn’t realised how much last year’s crash has affected me. At the time it felt like another part of life’s rich tapestry. Something to get over.
I have spent nearly all my life in the company of Strong Women who never made a fuss. Just get on with life. However, unknown to you for all of this journey my right thigh, onto which I fell last year, has been painful. Painful? Well, uncomfortable (let’s not exaggerate – not to be compared with people I have known whose experience of pain was a bit more unavoidable)
Maybe Nurse Blackburn, as was, can advise. So far the theory “keep going and it will go away” has worked admirably well. Not so well this time. That was really behind the decision to duck out of crossing the Ardennes. Maybe it could have been done. Maybe not. The bad weather forecast was a good excuse not to find out.
This is all very sobering.
No matter. Do something else. I looked up the Guest House in Blackpool where we stayed with Judy’s parents for a week each October for 12 years in the 1960’s and 70′ s. It closed down years ago.
Still, I’ve only got 90 miles to go across flat countryside to the ferry, and can manage that well enough.
And perhaps I will be cured after a day’s rest tomorrow
07:51 – Me: Well, that’s a lot better.
Yet another good night’s sleep. It is Easter Sunday. Everything will be different from now on.
I will cycle into the nearest town and attend morning service whatever the affiliation. As long as they sing it will be possible to join in. Good thing, singing. There’s not enough of it.
Thanks for the personal messages yesterday. You must not take it all too seriously. I explained separately that the reason I avoid personal media, if that’s what it’s called, is that it thrives on people deceiving each other.
Now I was brought up on the principle that you must never lie. Nothing that I ever adhered to rigorously, of course. Social Media seems to be founded on the principle that you must never tell the truth. Appearance is reality. This is so obviously untrue, that it only needs to be stated for everyone to fall about laughing. But they don’t.
I may not be the first old man to conclude that the world is collapsing into the sand of its foundations. And then something surprising happens .
So now to eat breakfast and get ready for Easter Day.
12:36 – Me: Funny thing, that. There is a large church in the middle of the town, Tessenderlo, which will hold 500 easily, with a notice outside saying clearly 10:45.
10:30 there were 3 of us inside. 10:40 we were down to 2.
I’ve no idea what that was all about
Anyway I sang on my own as much of the Martin Luther hymn Christ Lag in Todesbanden as I could remember, and had to make do with that.
Then out for a coffee.
Time for amendment of life.
It was a beautiful morning, not exactly warm, but OK.
After some thought I decided to go back to the B&B and spend the rest of the day reading.
What does the modern old man take with him to read on a 10 day cycle tour?
Nothing bulky, but something suitable for a slow reader. What other than Caesar’s Gallic War Book I, which we did for O Level Latin in1969. It is small, hard backed, all of 94 pages, that I can manage at the rate of about 15 minutes p. page. That should keep me going for the rest of the day and more.
PGWodehouse would have been even better.
As expected/ half-hoped. My leg is curing itself. By tomorrow it will be back to normal. Here’s hoping.
13:14 – Me: And before you reach the end of Easter Day…
I looked up the authentic words of Christ Lag in Todesbanden with DuckDuckGo (not Google) and came across a life changing Utube video of a 2021 Proms recording of the Bach Cantata conducted by John Eliot Gardiner. It is full of joy and delight. Could not be better. Worth watching even if you have difficulty believing a word of it.
Be prepared to weep with joy.
The only disappointment is that a number of the performers were allowed to dangle jewellery from bits of their faces. Could have done without that. John Eliot Gardiner didn’t have a single stud. As far as I could see
13:17 – Karol Whettlock: Why don’t you try those cycling holidays where someone carries your luggage and looks after you and your bike?
13:31 – Me: Because I like my own bike. I tried something like it once, cycling down the Rhine. The bike was too big and unwieldy. It was out of season, and not easy to get assstance.
But it’s OK. I will be very pleased to have gone cycling in Europe in the past and now move on to something else.
Pity about Palm Court, Blackpool, closing, though.
Maybe Youth Hostelling in the Dales again. Youth?
Maybe they are not literalists
15:18 – Me: I have been sharing some parallel messages with Another Person. The fundamental problem is that my window of opportunity is mid-September to early April on account of the allotment.
Never mind about all that. Find the Bach recording and come alive.
14:25 – Monday: Wonderful. Cured. Leg extraordinary (of course)
No problems apart from retaining attention so as not to take the wrong turning.
A day’s march nearer home.
It must have been the day of rest and gladness that made all the difference.
The journey was a bit monotonous. Not as exciting as going up or down an Ardenne, but not unwelcome for all that.
The café/hotel I’m booked in for tonight may be a bit unsophisticated. They wanted cash, but the single room they have given me is fine
Tomorrow looks a bit exciting, and involves a ferry crossing. It has started to rain. I can look out of my bedroom window and be delighted for all the allotment holders who were getting worried.
There are a lot of notices in fields advising either that they have a problem with Asperger’s Syndrome or that they have asparagus for sale. That’s good. My asparagus plants were just breaking through when I left. Here’s hoping for the annual glut by the time I get back.
The schedule for tomorrow is to turn up for the ferry by 19:00.
This gives me plenty of time to fall off the transit ferry and recover.
07:20 – Tuesday morning.
Another good night’s sleep.
Perhaps the big difference between traveling on your own and in a group is that on your own you spend a lot of time in your head. This may or may not be healthy.
At breakfast this morning a man in his 50’s helped me how to work out how to use the toaster. He was from the Czech Republic and here on holiday. We spoke a sufficient number of European languages between us to communicate well enough – without too much attention to the finer points of grammar. He was from Literovice in Bohemia, and it all came back to me.
In about 2008 I had cycled through Literovice on the way from Prague to Wittenberg. That was a life changing experience.
I had found a route along the river from Prague to Wittenberg and set off without any maps or sense in mid-October to arrive in Wittenberg for 31st October. It was one of the best experiences of my life. The weather was ideal (it might very well not have been), the people were amazingly helpful, and the Czech forests were stunningly beautiful. It was only when I reached Meissen in Germany that I found you could buy guides for the complete cycle route from Prague to Hamburg. I had managed to phone Judy once near the German border to tell her that this was the most wonderful journey of my life. Then radio silence until Wittenberg where I found an Internet Cafe and could send a full highly enthusiastic report.
I had been at death’s door a few years before. This was full confirmation that:
1. Life still had so much to offer
2. You don’t have to be sensible
3. The Czech people are extraordinarily kind.
4. There was life in the old dog yet.
Once in Wittenberg I sang Ein Feste Burg, cried a bit, met Phil who did me a lot of good, and got the train back to Prague.
That was the beginning of the annual cycle tour. They were not all universally successful, but every one was confirmation that you can do what you want and enjoy the challenge.
So it still is.
The solitary journeys have their own attraction. Maybe not entirely healthy, but still enjoyable. The lone Czech traveller this morning reminded me of all that.
17:57 – It is 18:00, I am on board the Pride of Hull, and have ordered an evening meal having eaten very little since breakfast.
It was tough cycling today because of a stiff breeze, at least, all day. At times I was averaging a heroic 8 miles an hour. On a very exposed stretch it was more like 6. But even if he isn’t athletic, he is dogged.
The internal ferry crossing was interesting. The waves on the wide stretch were almost surf like. With a bit of imagination.
I waited at the side and asked a young lady with a bicycle if this was for the ferry. “Yes“. “Would you like some chocolate?“. “No“. Her mother must have warned her. There were 9 bicycles, 1 pram, and 2 solitary pedestrians who crossed. They were not as amazed by it all as me.
Then grim determination for the last 5 or 6 miles. The ferry terminal is near the extremity of the land, and the wind blew harder.
But he did it. Without getting off once.
Queuing to go through Customs control, a camper van driver let me go ahead of him, and gave me 2 bananas. They were much appreciated.
The lady checking passports was unhappy that I was leaving mainland Europe without ever coming in. “When did you come here?“. “Last Tuesday from Calais“. “Didn’t they stamp your passport?“. “No“. “The French“.
It was too complicated to explain.
09:49 – PJB: By its name, this is a ship with very limited ambition
09:51 – Karol Whettlock: Don’t be rude Phil. It was City of Culture in 2017!
10:08 – Gillian Wigglesworth: I went to Hull when it was C of C- was impressed!
12:15 – Me: Breathes there the man with soul so dead who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land!
“Yes, me” (PJB)
jbrip 