![]()
Terje Melheim This
cycle tour was
made by a Norwegian family in summer 1997. Kjartan (14) accompanied his
parents. Mother Turid and Father Terje
We
landed at
the immense airport of Gatwick in the afternoon the 14th of July 1997,
and it took us about one hour to collect our luggage and make the
cycles
ready for cycling. We had believed we could easily find some quiet
country
lanes near Gatwick and cycle on such roads to Portsmouth. The traffic
near
Gatwick was rather intense, and we had to stay on the main road towards
London for some kilometres before we could branch off towards
Charlwood.
Before we left home we had got assistance from an English cyclist and
member
of the Cyclists' Touring Club
on how to find our way from Gatwick and he had described our way to the
nearest camp site. We just followed his instruction and that is why we
went over Charlwood and farther over Rusper to Horsham. Thanks to his
description
we could avoid going into Horsham town and we were directed right on to
the camp site near Southwater.
Tuesday the 15th of July, app. 50 km. Our route
went along
the foot of the South Downs. The traffic on the B2139 was fast and it
was
not so nice cycling here. As recommended by our route planner, we
visited
the village of Amberley, a nice spot with old traditional cottages,
well
kept and nicely decorated with flowers. Wednesday, the 16 of July. 30 km This day we reached Portsmouth where, unusually enough i Britain, we were offered cycle ways. They were not of the good quality known from Denmark and the Netherlands. The surface was rather poor, on crossing roads the motor traffic had all priority. On these spots the cycle ways were even equipped with a sign: Cyclists alight. Portsmouth
has two sights worth visiting, at least Kjartan with his 14 years was
of
just the right age to be very interested in them: The battle ships sail
ship Victory and steamship Warrior. We had arrived early at the camp
site
and we intended to visit the ships on the same day. Unfortunately the
map
I had on Portsmouth was not so good, as only main roads had been shown,
and it did not take long until we were completely lost. At last we
managed
to find our way to the battle ships, but the ships had been closed for
the day. Kjartan got very disappointed, so we decided to stay on for
another
day.
Thursday, the 17 of July. 15 km within Portsmouth.This day we made an extra day in Portsmouth when we engaged ourselves to naval history. The sail ship Victory was quite impressive as she lay exhibited in a dock. The glorious age of sail ship turned out not to be so glorious after all. The guide told us that onboard the ship hard methods of punishments towards the crew were needed because the majority of the sailors did not want to be there. They had been recruited from inns and more or less trapped to join as crew. The steamship Warrior was from the last century. Onboard it various guns were demonstrated by a man who introduced his demonstrations by saying, "Britain did not win an empire by being nice to people." The third ship from the glorious past of Britain were the remnants of the sail ship Mary Rose. The ship was sunk during an engagement with the French fleet near Portsmouth. It was rediscovered and brought ashore in 1979. Parts of the hull is exhibited, and it is constantly being treated with chemicals in order to be preserved for the future.Friday the 18th of July, app.. 50 kmThe ship from Portsmouth to Cherbourg sailed at 8 in the morning, and it arrived in France at 13.00. In fact the voyage took 4 hours, but we lost one hour because of different time in Britain and on the continent. In Cherbourg we were positively surprised because at the landing place of the ferry we found a cycle way. We followed it towards the town centre, but the cycle way, typically enough, finished soon. Out of town we took the road towards Nouanville. We used Michelin maps in the scale 1:200 000. In fact I had bought those maps way back in the 1960s when I had once planned to make a cycle tour through France. I never made that tour, and therefore I turned up in France 1997 with those antique maps. The area we cycled through next to Cherbourg had been developed and new roads had been laid out, and that was of course very confusing with my old map. As soon as we were outside the development area the road signs showed villages right as they were indicated on the map. We found nice roads, and roads of that type we used throughout our cycle tour in France. On small routes départementales and routes vicinales we made our tour along hedges and through villages where we frightened the hens and the dogs frightened us. To our relief both hens and dogs were usually kept behind fences. Normally even the road numbers were the same as on my archaic map. Only at places where new main roads had been built the map did not coincide with reality.![]() In the village Manoir, after 25 km from Cherbourg we had lunch. We made ourselves comfortable on a bench just outside the Mairie of the village. Kjartan was very sceptical to this exposed site. But it turned out worse because soon the local bus stopped just in front of us and all the passagers were staring at us, at least Kjartan had this feeling and he got so ashamed that he ran away. He is 14 years and in a difficult period of life. After this episode we always had difficulties in finding an acceptable site to have lunch because Kjartan had got very critical towards the exposure of the sites. This day we cycled to le Rozel on the western coast of Normandie. The camp site was located just behind the dunes of the beach. Saturday the 19th of July, app.. 80 km We awoke
to another
nice day, and from Le Ruzel we tried to follow the coast on minor road.
On my old Michelin map we could easily find roads on which we could
avoid
menacing traffic. In Carteret we branched off towards Cap de Carteret.
We had some steep ascents, where Turid soon gave up and started pushing
her bike. Kjartan and I would not like to give up. I know that sooner
or
later Kjartan will be able to make that hard climbing better than his
father.
Still I am the better.
Sunday the 20th of July, appr. 50 km This was the second day at a French camping place, and we had learnt one thing; French camping places are not usually equipped with toilet paper. The toilet paper we had used at the last camping place probably belonged to some other guests. Near the camping place we found a large super market, but on a Sunday they did not open till 11. Before we made a rather late start we bought our supplies of food and of course toilet paper. Next day we arrived in Granville and we saw at syndicate d'initiativ a nice park with a bench. That was a good invitation for lunch. Turid and I gave Kjartan an ultimatum, "If you refuse to sit here because the place is too exposed, we are not going to mind you. We are going to have our lunch here." Kjartan had to accept our decision. I am sure he did not repent it. The town Granville is situated on a steep peninsula. From the town we had a nice view of the sea and the harbour. Very interesting it was to observe the docks where the ships lay. Because of large tidal differences the habour was locked off from the sea so that the water would be kept there at low tides. For us that was an interesting observation because we come from an area with only 50 cm of tidal difference. It was time to continue our cycle tour towards the south. Out from Granville on road N 811 we encountered heavy traffic. Probably people going home after a week end at the sea. We were in a very disgusting situation. In St.Pair sur Mer I asked at the syndicat d'initiativ if there would be an alternative road with less traffic. There was, and along this road there would also be a camping place. We were very relieved and happy. The mademoiselle at the tourist office could easily hear from our French that we were foreigners, and she asked us from what coundtry we come. Was it because she was curious or was it because she would like to have a rare species in her statistics? Because there are only 4 million Norwegians we are seldom seen way down on the continent. The
camping place
we found was a private one with a nice warden and that made it all more
personal. To have dinner we cycled 3 km down to the road along the
coast.
For drink we ordered cider. I liked it so much that from that day I had
a bottle of cider every day. It is a delicious drink in hot weather.
The
alcoholic contents is just 3-4 %, not more than normal beer.
Monday the 21st of July, appr. 35 km Today would be a hot day. We did however not manage to have things ready until 11 o'clock. We cycled into the labyrinth of minor roads of rural France. The town Avranche is situated on a height, and the climb up into the town was quite hard in this weather. Right on the edge of the steep hills is a beautiful botanic garden. From the garden we had our first glimpse of the famous monastery Mont St. Michel. If we turned our backs to the sea and the monastery we were facing an impressing gothic cathedral. It was time for lunch. In Avranche I tried to buy a new tyre for my bike. When I pumped the tube of my bicycle after the flight to Gatwick, I must have pumped it too hard. and the cords of my tyre had given in. I had put a piece of old tyre underneath it, but it would be wise to buy a new tyre. On Mondays many shops are closed in France, and so were the bicycle shops in Avranche. We left
town in southern
direction. At the bottom of the hill from the town, I suddenly felt my
front tyre was flat. To mend a flat tyre is normally an easy operation,
but not here. The hole was at a place where there was already another
patch.
I tried to to stick another patch to the tube. It seemed to keep
the air. I pumped the wheel carefully and did not put so much air
pressure
in the tube as I used to do. We could continue to the place Pontaubault
where there is a camping place. Our strategy was that I should cycle
back
to Avrance on Turid's bike next morning to buy a new inner tube. The
warden
at the camping place told us there is a bicycle shop in Pontaubault.
If
I was lucky, I could get a new inner tube there.
Tuesday the 22nd of July appr. 30 km The
bicycle shop
was very small, and I was very sceptical if I would find what I needed.
I had luck. I got it. It was a quick job to put on the new inner tube
and
the new tyre. We could set off for another day with beautiful weather.
We took back roads towards Mont St. Michel. We enjoyed the ride on
quiet
roads with not much traffic. The roads we were cycling on, were
probably
roads that have developed from tracks between the villages and they
probably
date back to medieval ages. When we got closer to Mont St, Michel, the
traffic grew, for everybody was heading for the great tourist
attraction
of Mont St. Michel. The monastery and the settlement are built on a
small
cliff island out in the sea. A causeway leads out to the monastery. We
had some bad feelings when we locked the bicycles and left them with
all
our luggage on. What if they were stolen? There were more dangers
about:
A sign was warning against tide and the place where our bicycles stood
would be under water at 22h. We knew we would be back well before that
time. The settlement at the foot of the cliff was cramped with
tourists.
In the monastery and in the church on top of the cliff we had more
room.
Outside the church we made some interesting observations. From old
fundaments
we could conclude that the church had been bigger before. We were just
about to leave when a group of tourists came towards us. The guide was
speaking Swedish, which is a very familiar language to us. We joined
the
group pretending we were just some tourists who happened to be there.
The
group was from a tour organized for people especially interested in
history.
We got a meaningful guiding through the church and the monastery. The
nearest
camping place was at Pontorson. We had to cycle in massive trafic,
which
at this time of the day was going in the same direction as we - away
from
St. Michel.
Wednesday the 23rd of July, app. 80 km Another
hot day.
Today we had decided to reach Rennes. We had an early start from
Pontorson,
and we remained faithful to the medieval structure and stayed away from
main roads. Turid expressed her feelings for France and the road
traffic
by saying, "It is so much nicer to cycle here in France than in
Britain,
the car drivers are so polite and pass us at good distance. In Britain
they drive fast and at a close distance." I tried to keep objective and
said we are now in the French province far away from the French
capital On
route départementale
no. 97 we approached the city of Rennes. We met many racing cyclists
along
this road and they greeted us. Just after leaving Pontorson we had
crossed
from Normandie into Bretagne. Rennes was the old capital of Bretagne
until
the French revolution swept away all privileges, including autonomy of
certain provinces. To our relief we found cycle lanes along some main
roads
in Rennes. The cycle lanes had been marked green to indicate bicycling
as a green movement and in order to discern the pistes cyclables from
the
motor traffic.
Thursday the 24th of July, app. 60 km This day was not so hot as the previous one and we felt relieved. The first part of the day we spent looking at the town. The old timber framed houses looked very nice. The construction of the houses were shown as the beams were not covered. The openings between the beams had been filled with lime or bricks. In French such houses are called maisons à colombage, in German they are called Fachwerkhäuser.
Friday, the 25th of July, App. 80 km Today's route led us northwards through the villages of La Chapelle de Lou, La Soudraie, Landujan, Plouasne, Tréfumel and St. Juvat. St. Juvat is a nice village, everywhere there are flowers. I have never seen all buildings so heavily decorated with flowers. The village had won prices for the best decorated village in France. I hope they succeded in 1997 too. Upon
arriving
in Dinan we discovered a camping place where we stayed for the night.
The
advantage to stay in tents, is that almost everywhere we can find
somewhere
to sleep. We are far more independent than I was at my young age when I
was cycling in Europe staying at youth hostels. For our cycle tour 1997
we brought two tents. Turid and I had one, and Kjartan had a small one
just for himself. We had enough room in the tents, we did not feel
cramped,
and because the weather was so good, we stayed in tents for almost the
whole tour.
Saturday the 26th of July, app. 15 km Dinan is
a nice town.
We spent the first part of the day looking at the town with all its
narrow
streets and historic buildingsFrom Dinan we cycled down to the river
Rance.
This place is called Port de Dinan. The boats there were sailing boats
and motorboats for leisure. When we came Sunday the 27th of July, app. 80 km. I am the one who did the map reading. On my front luggage carrier I had my sleeping bag and on top of the sleeping bag I had my Michelin map. When I had to study the map in detail I had to stop. Mostly I could manage the map reading well. Not so today. We intended to go northwards on minor roads from Plouer sur Rance, but somewhere I made a wrong turn and finally we ended up at the derelict railway line Dinan-Dinard. The closed station building at Pleslin still had a sign that it was also the station for Plouer sur Rance. Thus we realized we had almost made a complete circle. The derelict railway was of good cycling quality in spite of gravel surface. After 1-2 km we had to leave the railway line and we cycled to the main road towards Dinard. I wanted to do it quickly and we had wasted too much time on the circular tour unvoluntarely made at Plouer. With a favourable tailwind we stayed on the main road until we reached the power station at the inlet Rance. Because of great tidal differences on the Channel coast the tidal current out of and into the inlet Rance can be used for generating electric power. A dam had been built just south of St Malo. The dam was also used as a causeway between the two banks of the inlet. Just outside the dam was a sailing boat waiting to be let through. The boat did not have to go through the turbines. The road was closed while the boat was let into a lock where the water level was adjusted to the level inside the dam. This famous tourist town of St. Malo was of course cramped with tourists, but we had one problem less than the average tourist; we did not have to find a parking place before we could enter the city behind its medieval walls. We felt hungry and in St. Malo we wanted to have our lunch. The problem was to find a place which Kjartan could accept. As the town was full of people everywhere a place where he would not feel starred at, was impossible to find. A compromize was made; he could accept it if we did not boil tea. He could accept it if we had soft drinks from tins. During the time we had spent with lunch along French roads Kjartan had started to like it, because of the very tasty French bread. Even in small villages we usually found a boulangerie with fresh baguettes, thus we could always have fresh bread for lunch and breakfast. From St. Malo we cycled to the east, and we came to Mont Dol. Houses and the cathedral of this small town have been built on a rock stack, just like Mont St. Michel, the difference is that at Mont St. Michel the rock stands in the sea and that makes it more exciting, At Mont Dol the cliffs stand up among flat land. We
did not
go to the town of Dol. We branched off before we reached that city.
From
the distance we could see the structure of the big cathedral. We took
minor
roads without road signs through a flat polder area. The marsh land had
been drained at the beginning of this century. Suddenly Kjartan had a
puncture.
We mended it once, but the tyre soon got flat again. There was another
hole and a new patch was needed. At St. Broladre we were back on a main
road with road signs. We were then relieved because we knew exactly
where
we were, and it was time to locate a camp site. In order to reach the
camping
at St. Marcan, we had to leave the coastal plain and climb some 200
metres.
In the heat we were quite exhausted when we arrived at the camp site
which
was perfectly located with a phantastic view of the sea and Mont st.
Michel.
Ufortunately we were turned down at this exclusive camp site. "Le
camping
est complet". It did not help that we had just small tents and we had
no
motor vehicle. Especially Turid was very tired and she was very
disappointed.
We had to cycle back, it was quick to cycle down hill again, but we had
done all the climbing in vain. We just cycled along the main road
towards
Pontorson, where we had been before and knew for sure there was another
camping place. We did not have to cycle that far, after just 3 km we
found
a private camping place which was not marked in our guide. The camping
had a nice restaurant, and satisfied and tired we could go to sleep in
our tents.
Monday the 28th of July, appr. 55 km The aim for this day was the camping site at the town of St. Hilaire du Harcuet. We started by cycling through the flat polder area near the coast where we crossed into the province of Nomandie. We got to the little village of Beauvoir on the road between Mont St. Michel and Pontorson, and for one kilometer we cycled on a road we had cycled on 6 days earlier. We cycled on along road D 80. Just before coming to the village Vergoncey, I heard a shot with a dumb sound, as if it had been fired through a silencer. I knew immediately what had happened; a spoke at my rear wheel had broken. The spokes are probably not well done, and broken spokes have occured many times before. I had the appropriate equipment, so that I could remove the free wheel and replace the broken spoke with a new one. Along road D 108 towards St. Aubin I was a bit unlucky about a comment I made on Turid's cycle speed. She got very grumpy. What would happen to our cycle tour if it goes on like this? I was thinking of the report the German cyclist Martin Wittram has made about a cycle tour in France. It seems to be certain sociological laws of splitting up when a cycle group consists of three persons. He and two friends were cycling along the Loire river. One evening they came to discussing politics. They got so bad tempered that the next day two of them were cycling on the southern banks of Loire and one on the northern side of the river. Would the same happen to my cycling family? Fortunately not. Soon we found an excellent place for having picnic on the grass underneath a tree giving shadow. We had an excellent meal and the bad temper was gone. Along
byroads we
reached the city of St. Hilaire through the villages: Les Biards and
Virey.
Tuesday, the 29th of July, appr. 35 km Before we started from St. Hilaire we had to go to the tourist office to get information of the location of camping places farther away from the coast. We did not know that on that day we would just do a very short distance. First we were heading for the town of Mortain. Kjartan got a flat tyre. One of the patches I had put on two days earlier had started to leak. I made a good repair and the tyre kept the air inside it. The
area around
Mortain is hilly. In order to reach the town we had to climb a steep
hill
up from the river. In the heat it was very hard. On the top of the hill
was a camping place situated right on the edge of a gorge. The site was
very tempting, and Turid decided it: " I am not cycling any farther."
We
found Mortain very interesting. In the lime stone area the river had
eroded
a wild and beautiful gorge, nice for tourists to walk through and nice
for climbers to practice their techniques on steep cliff walls and
stacks.
During the war the Germans took advantage of this wild terrain, and at
Mortain they tried to make a break through the allied lines after the
D-day
of July 1944.
Wednesday the 30th of July, appr. 75 km This day
was not
as hot as the day before. In the morning it was even misty, and the
weather
made cycling a pleasure. I tried to keep our cycle route on a level,
and
I avoided, if I could, taking roads which crossed rivers because that
would
mean going downhill into a valley and then going uphill again. We
crossed
into the département Orne. We passed the town of Tinchebray.
Farther
to the east we took road N 811. In spite of route nationale there was
not
much traffic on this road. On this road we could easily put the
kilometres
behind us, as it was going slowly downhill. We branched off to the
left,
and at La Londe we crossed into département Calvados. The
landscape
became more hilly, and in order to attract tourists the area is called
La Suisse Normande. We were heading towards a camping site at Clecy on
the river Orne. In this hilly scenery we rolled without pedalling for
at
least 3 kilometres down into the valley where the river Orne flows.
Just
on arriving at the camping site, Kjartan got a flat tyre. It was the
same
tyre which had been bothering us for the last couple of days. It was
time
to buy a new tyre. At Clecy there was no cycle shop, and at the camping
I made some efforts to repair the tyre. Each time it was flat after
half
an hour.The next town with cycle shop would be in Thury-Harcourt, some
20 km downstream along the river Orne. I hoped we would reach the town
in spite of some pumping of Kjartan's front wheel.
Thursday the 31st of July, appr. 60 km The first thing I did this morning was to check the air of Kjartans front wheel. It was nearly empty. I pumped it again just before we started for Thury-Harcourt. We tried to keep to the banks of the river Orne. I constantly kept asking Kjartan how things were going with his front wheel. Each time he replied everything was all right and the air stayed inside the tube. In Thury-Harcourt we had some trouble in finding a correct inner tube because Kjartan's bike is equipped with larger valves than what is standard in France. We realized we would have to do with a narrower valve. It would have been impossible with it the other way around, if the new valve had been larger than the opening in the rim. Because the air seemed to stay well inside Kjartan's old tube, we would have to cycle on and keep the new tube for reserve. Kjartan's old tube remained good for the rest of the tour, and we did not have to replace it with the new one. The fact that we did not have the really hot weather any more might be one explanation. Hot, humid weather have a tendency of dissolving old glue.
Friday the 1st of August, appr. 10 km within Caen In Caen
we stayed
for two nights. We spent some hours at a laundry and we looked at the
sights
of the city. The town had been badly bombed during the war, and the
centre
had a rather modern structure with wide streets and fast traffic. We
visited
the castle where once William the Conqueror had lived and we visited
the
two churches St. Nicholas and St. Pierre. They represented the two
styles
of Romanesque and Gothic.
Saturday the 2nd of August, appr. 40 km By minor roads we cycled on to Bayeux, the town of the famous carpet. The carpet is like a comic series. In a series of pictures the whole story of William the Conqueror is described. To each picture there is a short text in Latin. As we all know, William had a successful invasion of England in the year 1066. I should be consequent: His name is in French; Guilleaume le Conquérant
Sunday, the 3rd of August, appr. 50 km After a night at a crowded camping place at Bayeux we cycled towards the coast. At Vierville there was a large American cemetery. For each missing American soldier whose body had not been found, a cross had been erected. There were crosses over a large area, and it made a deep impression on us as we were walking along the crosses of so many who gave their lives. Our
cycle tour
took us farther along the coast. At Pointe du Hoc. Memories from the
war
were physically present in German bunkers. This location does not have
a flat beach. From the German position there was a steep precipice into
the sea. At the invasion of 1944 American soldiers had climbed that
cliff
wall, because it was vital that the guns were made inactive. The
Americans
were slaughtered at this place. When they finally managed to conquer
the
gun position, it turned out that the guns had been withdrawn. When we
read
about the role of Pointe du Hoc during World War II we were deeply
shocked.
War means suffering and death.
Monday the 4th of August, appr. 70 km The last night we had stayed at the camping site at Isigny. Towards Carentan we partly used the highway N13, but that was all right because a new motorway had been built, hence the traffic on the main road was tolerable. At Carentan there was market day where everything from clothes to living ducks were sold. Because of the market activity there were many people in the town and much traffic about. We spent some time looking at the gothic cathedral. The crowded conditions of the town, made us continue without buying food for lunch. We did not find any shops along the road, as we had hoped. We had to increase our speed in order to reach the next larger village where there might be a shop, and we had to reach it before the shops were closed for lunch break. In St. Marie du Mont we could buy our supplies. We had a nice meal at a picnic place along road D329. After lunch and after two more kilometres we were at Utah beach. A museum with an exhibition had been erected (I believe at the anniversary in 1994). The exhibition was less abundant than the exhibition in Bayeux, but at Utah beach we were right in situ of the very invasion. A farther distance along the beach we came to the place where the first French general had made his landing in 1944. While we were cycling on along the coast I allowed to make a joke with Kjartan, "The Germans should have guessed that the Americans would land and go ashore at Utah beach because that name would be so familiar to the Americans." Kjartan did not reply back because he thought what his dad said was so stupid. Our
camping
place that evening was at Quettehou, along the coast north of Utah
beach.
At the entrance of the camp site there was placed a sign: "Interdit aux
nomades". Turid made the remark that after 3-4 weeks of cycling around
and sleeping in tents, we were real nomads. Well, we did not have any
trouble
in being accepted at the camp site.
Tuesday the 5th of August, appr. 40 km Today our
cycles
would take us back to Cherbourg from where we had started our cycle
tour
in France, 3 weeks ago. We passed through Tourlaville, a suburb
of
Cherbourg. From a map at a bus stop we planned our route to the camping
place. One of our streets turned out to be a one way street
against
our direction. That is typical of the situation in French towns. One
way
streets have been introduced in order to help motor traffic. Whether it
is useful for cyclists, they don't mind. If the French are just as
fanatic
about their one way streets as our Norwegian road authorities are, we
could
have got a rather high fine in Tourlaville as we were violating the one
way street. Frankly speaking, I don't see the point in excluding
cyclists
from using a one way street in both directions as long as there is
enough
room for a car and a cyclist to pass each other.
Wednesday the 6th of August, appr. 15 km This was our last day in France. At the landing place for the ferry we met an Englishman who had been cycling since May, and he was now on his way back home. He had been in Marocco, and he had cycled all the way. It had been a great advantage to start as early as May when temperatures were not so high. He could be away for so long time because he was unemployed, and he avoided staying at camp sites in order to keep his travelling expenses low. His money came from searching beaches with a metal detector. He got enough revenues this way, he said. The ship
sailed at
18.00, and the crossing to Portsmouth took 4 hours. At ten we would be
in Portsmouth, and it would be dark. In Britain it would not be ten,
but
nine o'clock, but the sun's position does not change if the official
time
is changed, so in spite of 9 o'clock in Portsmouth it would already be
dark. In Portsmouth we knew our way to the camp site, and we
reached
it with no problems although we were violating the laws by cycling with
no light.
Thursday the 7th of August, appr. 40 km Our way out of Portsmouth was to cycle from the camp site to the south, to a point from where we could take a cycle and pedestrian ferry over to Hayling island. In this way we avoided an area with much traffic north of Portsmouth. Until the 1960s Hayling island had a railway connection, and the railway track had now become a cycle way. In spite of a bit rough surface on it, it was good to cycle on. At the bridge from the island and to the mainland we had to use the road bridge. It was striking how much traffic there was on this road. The railway track continued at the end of the bridge, and by using the derelict railway we ended up on the main road A27 at Havant. This was the most rainy day we encountered on our whole tour, but the rain was not so hard as we know from our home on the Western coast of Norway The traffic on A27 was tolerable because a parallel motorway took much of the traffic and one metre on each side of the A 27 the surface had been marked as an area for cyclists. We did not actually enjoy cycling on the A27 and we were happy when we saw a blue sign pointing to the right: "South coast cycle route". For this area we did not have any good map, and we did not exactly know where the signs with South coast cycle route were taking us, but we knew the signs would eventually lead us to where we were heading, Chichester. Chichester
is a nice town with an impressive cathedral. The camp site is situated
some kilometres outside the city centre. We were really shocked at the
prices at this camp site. We payed GBP 16, over double standard price
from
France. In the evening a little colony of cyclists existed. During our
cycle tour we never met so many cyclists at one camp site.
Friday the 8th of August, appr. 80 km Today was the day of splitting up of our family and time for individual travelling. Turid refused to cycle back to Gatwick, or actually to Horley where we had made a reservation at a guest house. She did not like the traffic in Southern England. We knew from before going to England that trains in Southern England convey bicycles with no restrictions and even free. Because of the traffic Turid and Kjartan decided to go by train to Horley, but I still wanted to cycle. At first Turid did not like the idea that I was not coming along with them because she was so afraid of the traffic and the huge round abouts at Gatwick, but she accepted the idea of my cycling when she understood that they could go by train all the way to Horley and thus avoiding the traffic machines at Gatwick. On this
day there
was no rain, the sun was shining, and I enjoyed pedalling alone at a
speed
I decided for myself along road A285 towards Petworth. At
Petworth
I could put the bad map of scale 1:253440 into my cycle bag. For the
area
farther to the east I had a much better map: Bartholomew Half-Inch
contoured
Great Britain sheet number 6. From Petworth I used country lanes, and I
enjoyed cycling along those quiet roads, through the nice landscape,
under
the warming sun. From Petworth to Kidford and Loxwood, to Bucks Green.
At the cross road at Ellen's Green I found a bench under a shading
tree.
It was time for lunch. On my way to Horley I had to cross a busy dual
carriageway.
Cyclists were warned that they should alight when crossing it. Again an
example that road authorities can only think motor traffic. A cyclist
will
be kept for a longer time in the danger zone of the 2x2 traffic lines
if
he crosses the road on foot instead of cycling.
Saturday, the 9th of August, appr. 80 km Turid and
Kjartan
wanted to spend this day in London whereas I preferred to make a
cycle tour in this garden-agricultural area of England.
Sunday the 10th of August, appr. 50 km For Turid
and Kjartan
this was another day in London. I cycled from Horley to the south, to
Bluebell
railway. I disliked the heavy traffic on the roads, but things got
better
when I got on the by-roads south of East Grinstead. Bluebell Railway is
a museum railway on a railway line abandoned by the BR. When I arrived
at Horstead Keynes station, I observed old British traffic signs, like
the ones I knew from my first cycle tour in Britain 1963. The nostalgic
feeling got even stronger within the railway station where steam trains
arrived and left. I felt rather disappointed that my request for
storing
my bike and luggage in a room at the station while I was travelling on
the railway, was turned down.
Monday the 11th of August, appr. 20 km In
the morning
when we left the guest house in Horley, Turid and Kjartan wanted to
avoid
the heavy traffic at Gatwick and went by train to the airport. I found
my way through the round abouts at Gatwick and after the flight we all
arrived safely back home.
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