R
Richard Bates
Guest
Day Two: Thurlby to Holbeach via Moulton
Despite it being a tour of Norfolk, I still haven't got there! I am still in Lincolnshire but
Norfolk is only a few grid squares away...
I woke up at about 0700 to hear a "meow". One of the two hostel cats had snook under the bottom of
the outer tent and was meowing to come inside the inner. I am trying to think up a pun to do with
cats and tents. But I can't.
I had decided to head east (how else would I get to Norfolk?) and also wanted to pop into Bourne,
the local town, to see what it had to offer. I am a major fan of supermarket breakfasts, Tesco being
the best, ASDA being the worst, and Safeway and Sainsbury somewhere in between. Imagine my
excitement to see a Tesco sign in the distance. I ignored the fact that I should be turning of the
main road now and continued straight on. Now imagine my disappointment when I approached and also
saw the word "Express". Never mind, it did provide a source of flapjacks which became useful later
in the day.
I turned off the A15 onto a "C" road running parallel to Dyke Fen. Fens are funny things: they look
just like ditches to me. I'm sure that " Dyke Ditch" has a better ring to it than "Dyke Fen". My map
showed an amusing feature further up the road. I needed to turn right but the name "Eau Well" seemed
worthy of a left turn.
Having made two disappointing detours in half an hour I thought I would just stick to my mentally
planned route along the flattest road I have ever cycled along. It was a lovely ride. The wind was
nowhere to be felt, the tractor drivers gave a friendly wave as I pulled over to let them pass, and
over 8km I saw only one car. My only thought was that OS were pretty daft to use the same colour and
thickness line to represent both km squares and streams.
If the false impression of a Tesco breakfast hadn't lured me I would now be at Tongue End, with yet
another long stretch of peaceful C road. Instead, however, I was forced to ride the much busier A151
all the way to the eastern edge of my map.
My tummy was telling me that it was time for food, and no sooner had I carefully folded the next map
into the waterproof case, I was scouring the surrounding region for little PH signs. I found one at
a place called Pinching. In a bizarre way, there were two exactly parallel roads that I could use,
separated by a river. It reminded very much of cycling around parts of the Netherlands. The pub in
mind was the Packing Shed, and although there was no vegetarian food on the menu they rustled me up
something fantastic. I don't know why they don't have it on the menu all the time.
Whilst allowing a little time for my dinner to go down I searched the map for possible campsites. I
found one at Saracen's head and went in search. Being a little tired, going for the nearest site
made sense, and off I trundled down the A road, briefly diverting through Weston for a break from
the traffic. I had a crafty leg rest whilst I photographed my bike leaning against the village sign
at Moulton (!) and then turned off to Moulton Seas End.
Here I saw a fantastic sight: Mom, Dad and two daughters all on bikes, all loaded up with panniers,
and all looking full of enjoyment. "HELLO HEllo Hello hello" they replied as we whizzed in opposite
directions.
I found the A road containing the campsite but failed to find the campsite itself. My map showed it
to be *on* the A road, and there were no other side roads for at least 500m either way. But I simply
couldn't find it.
Slightly despondant I checked for the next nearest site. I had no problem finding this one about 45
minutes later but it looked awful. The gents toilets were out of order, there were no showers, and
the site was full of dirty rundown caravans inhabited by what I can only describe as lager louts. I
generally prefer to wake up in the morning with my tent still intact rather than finding they guy
ropes hanging from a tree with me tied to the lower end. I felt vulnerable being alone.
So I set off to the third campsite, which I must say is brilliant. £6 a night is more than I
sometimes pay for similar quality but I feel safe. It is inhabited by mostly caravans but the other
tent there belongs to another chap who is touring alone by motorbike.
The beer tonight is disappointing but still most welcome.
Tomorrow should set me off into Norfolk, aiming in the general direction of Kings Lynn.
Today's lesson: When tearing out the relevant pages from a campsite guidebook, ensure you also take
the pages for Lincolnshire!
Love and scotchlite guyropes from Rich x
--
Sent using an unregistered copy of RMRNews v1.02 Check out our website at http://www.rmrsoft.com/
for other high quality software for EPOC machines.
Despite it being a tour of Norfolk, I still haven't got there! I am still in Lincolnshire but
Norfolk is only a few grid squares away...
I woke up at about 0700 to hear a "meow". One of the two hostel cats had snook under the bottom of
the outer tent and was meowing to come inside the inner. I am trying to think up a pun to do with
cats and tents. But I can't.
I had decided to head east (how else would I get to Norfolk?) and also wanted to pop into Bourne,
the local town, to see what it had to offer. I am a major fan of supermarket breakfasts, Tesco being
the best, ASDA being the worst, and Safeway and Sainsbury somewhere in between. Imagine my
excitement to see a Tesco sign in the distance. I ignored the fact that I should be turning of the
main road now and continued straight on. Now imagine my disappointment when I approached and also
saw the word "Express". Never mind, it did provide a source of flapjacks which became useful later
in the day.
I turned off the A15 onto a "C" road running parallel to Dyke Fen. Fens are funny things: they look
just like ditches to me. I'm sure that " Dyke Ditch" has a better ring to it than "Dyke Fen". My map
showed an amusing feature further up the road. I needed to turn right but the name "Eau Well" seemed
worthy of a left turn.
Having made two disappointing detours in half an hour I thought I would just stick to my mentally
planned route along the flattest road I have ever cycled along. It was a lovely ride. The wind was
nowhere to be felt, the tractor drivers gave a friendly wave as I pulled over to let them pass, and
over 8km I saw only one car. My only thought was that OS were pretty daft to use the same colour and
thickness line to represent both km squares and streams.
If the false impression of a Tesco breakfast hadn't lured me I would now be at Tongue End, with yet
another long stretch of peaceful C road. Instead, however, I was forced to ride the much busier A151
all the way to the eastern edge of my map.
My tummy was telling me that it was time for food, and no sooner had I carefully folded the next map
into the waterproof case, I was scouring the surrounding region for little PH signs. I found one at
a place called Pinching. In a bizarre way, there were two exactly parallel roads that I could use,
separated by a river. It reminded very much of cycling around parts of the Netherlands. The pub in
mind was the Packing Shed, and although there was no vegetarian food on the menu they rustled me up
something fantastic. I don't know why they don't have it on the menu all the time.
Whilst allowing a little time for my dinner to go down I searched the map for possible campsites. I
found one at Saracen's head and went in search. Being a little tired, going for the nearest site
made sense, and off I trundled down the A road, briefly diverting through Weston for a break from
the traffic. I had a crafty leg rest whilst I photographed my bike leaning against the village sign
at Moulton (!) and then turned off to Moulton Seas End.
Here I saw a fantastic sight: Mom, Dad and two daughters all on bikes, all loaded up with panniers,
and all looking full of enjoyment. "HELLO HEllo Hello hello" they replied as we whizzed in opposite
directions.
I found the A road containing the campsite but failed to find the campsite itself. My map showed it
to be *on* the A road, and there were no other side roads for at least 500m either way. But I simply
couldn't find it.
Slightly despondant I checked for the next nearest site. I had no problem finding this one about 45
minutes later but it looked awful. The gents toilets were out of order, there were no showers, and
the site was full of dirty rundown caravans inhabited by what I can only describe as lager louts. I
generally prefer to wake up in the morning with my tent still intact rather than finding they guy
ropes hanging from a tree with me tied to the lower end. I felt vulnerable being alone.
So I set off to the third campsite, which I must say is brilliant. £6 a night is more than I
sometimes pay for similar quality but I feel safe. It is inhabited by mostly caravans but the other
tent there belongs to another chap who is touring alone by motorbike.
The beer tonight is disappointing but still most welcome.
Tomorrow should set me off into Norfolk, aiming in the general direction of Kings Lynn.
Today's lesson: When tearing out the relevant pages from a campsite guidebook, ensure you also take
the pages for Lincolnshire!
Love and scotchlite guyropes from Rich x
--
Sent using an unregistered copy of RMRNews v1.02 Check out our website at http://www.rmrsoft.com/
for other high quality software for EPOC machines.