[This is from earlier - I think probably Tuesday, but I can't be sure. - Ed.]
It's been a day of old friends and strange machinery. I left my freezing field edge in Lincolnshire at seven, cursing as the stove half died and then I knocked over the messtin. So, no porridge and no tea, just half a cup of water, shame. Still, on to Norfolk and up to the north, in the sun as usual and a biting north wind. At Salthouse, near Cromer, a car behind started hooting and flashing. I pulled over, to see my friends Nigel and Sarah, who had put me up on my first night away, in Falmouth. They were up on holiday, and had no idea I was in the area, try calculating the odds on that...
I found, respectively, an armoured bulldozer having a bit of a service at a boatbuilders yard, as you do, and a lovely old Churchill tank outside a museum. And other things besides, like the vintage bus at Southwold. Tonight, I find myself inland a bit at Sam and Andy's lovely cottage on an estate, near Diss. It feels strange, being indoors again after several days on the road and rough camping, not that I'm complaining. Funny how you take things like hot water for granted - until they're not available. Tomorrow, I'm being threatened with a day off. Very tempting after pushing four thousand miles and twenty two days' continuous riding...
[And this is today's offering. - Ed.]
Had a day off yesterday, as I realised that I was absolutely shattered after 22 continuous days of riding, about 200 hours in the saddle. And rough camping is harder than it sounds, especially in a bitter north wind and frosty starts...
So instead of riding, my friend, Andy, took me to see his place of work, called Heaven. It's a large grassy woodyard surrounded by trees, with an esoteric collection of workshops, built of timber, hazel and tarpaulins. Now before you get the idea that this is some crummy traveller camp full of rubbish and sponging wasters, think on. These guys are full-on sculptors in wood taking on comissions from all sorts of public bodies. Look at the photos. [I'll put the photos up when I receive them - Ed.] This is a very well organised set-up, with everyone working both collaboratively and singly, as required. Inspiring, not least because I knock out a bit of sculpted furniture myself.
Back to the trip: I started today at Aldeburgh, where I loved Maggi Hamblyn's sculpture of a scallop shell. Suffolk is a mix of fashionable hotspots, with the strong money living in the nice architecture, and dining in the swanky bistros, and the rest living on the estates, doing the cleaning and the service stuff. Yup, a sweeping statement I know. So, then I checked out Essex. Damn, it's a big old place, nice in the north, and crowded in the south and in fact you can't really see the sea unless you're actually on the seafront. And so busy that you crawl along in
the traffic, taking forever to get from A to B. What a pain. After a couple of hundred miles, I hung a left after the Dartford bridge and nipped over to Balham, gateway to the South and the venue for a nourishing glass of beer and a Ruby Murray with my nephew Tim and the lovely Beth. Hurrah. Tomorrow, I take on the men of Kent, whoever they are. Cheers chaps.
Photos from day 23.
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