Lord Chatham's ride: a big disappointment

Having studied my maps and discovered Lord Chatham's Ride, I've been champing at the bit for some time, fired up with the thought of experiencing what looks like a great ride through the woods. So, while I've had a couple of false starts over the past few weeks, yesterday (Saturday) I took the plunge after a pretty piss poor week, managing to miss my target of a respectable 70 miles by around three miles. I even considered going out and doing one lap of the Norfolk Nobbler just to knock me across the line, but then I thought no, what's the point? Just accept you've not been as fortunate this week when compared to last and crack on. The chances are that next week's rides will be good as the bank holiday Monday gives me the chance to get out there on a day when I would normally be going to work. In other words, I reckon I'll make the 80-mile marker at the end of the coming week, who knows?

Will I find Lord Chatham's Ride?

It's important to point out that while I didn't cycle until Friday (giving me a Sunday/Friday/Saturday scenario that totalled just over 67 miles) I did engage in other forms of exercise, namely walking, which is really exhausting. I was clocking up five miles per day, so 15 in total between Monday and Wednesday. On Thursday, rather than ride the Washpond Weeble (which was the plan) I mowed the lawn with my new Mountfield Princess 42-inch Rotary Mower (with rear roller). The grass looks amazing and once again I must take my hat off to my dear old dad, God rest his soul, for telling me once, many years ago, that my garden was my gym; he was right, it gave me a good work-out on Thursday afternoon as I mowed the front and back lawns and got the shears out to trim the edges, and don't forget, the grass hadn't been cut for a while so I was up and down the lawn like a yo-yo. I tell you what, though, it looks fantastic and afterwards I was whacked out. So, walking, lawn mowing and then on Friday a Washpond Weeble - during which I spotted some weird-looking stuffed scarecrows - saw me in reasonable shape for Saturday's ride.

This ain't Lord Chatham's Ride...

I left the house at 0905hrs and there was no rain, it was warm and fairly bright, although cooler than of late to be fair. I followed the slow way route to Westerham, along Beddlestead Lane, and then down Clarks Lane, but not riding down the hill towards Pilgrims Lane as usual. I had to go via Knockholt. Andy and my only recollection of riding to Knockholt (in pre-blog days, pre-2009) was driving rain and a punishing hill as we followed Sundridge Lane to Main Road, having riden along Pilgrims Lane from the bottom of Clarks Lane as it turns towards Westerham. There is only a village hall and a general stores in Knockholt. Oddly, the last time I was there (a couple of weeks ago, alone) there was more driving rain and I was soaked through, with only a Snickers bar and bottle of mineral water to keep me company. I remember standing in the pouring rain munching on the Snickers bar (I prefer to call them Marathon bars). While it was raining hard (and didn't really stop) it wasn't cold so it was little bother. Somewhere along the line I've digressed and lost my thread, all I'm really trying to say is that there's no need to encounter hills on a ride to Knockholt from where I live; not if I follow the wooded road that leads to the Park Wood Golf Course from close to the Tatsfield churchyard and then take the left fork and follow it until it meets Westerham Hill. I then cross the road and follow Grays Road or Grays Lane, can't remember it's exact name, towards the beginning of Main Road and then I kind of roll into town, well, Knockholt. 

...nor is this

Unfortunately, there's no caff in Knockholt or Knockholt Pound, for that matter, although they are really one and the same, but it's in the latter that I found Chevening Lane. I knew it would lead me to Lord Chatham's Ride, but I was to be disappointed. Chevening Lane was a No Through Road and for good reason: at the end of it there was Chevening House which, if I recall, is the country seat of the Foreign Secretary (currently Dominic Raab). So when I reached the end of the road where I was expecting to find a big sign proclaiming (in neon lights) 'Lord Chatham's Ride', all I found was a gate saying 'private, no entry' or words to that effect. It was very disappointing as I was hoping I'd have a story to tell Andy, but it wasn't to be. There was, however, a footpath that was probably not open to cyclists as it proved very hard to get the bike through the initial gate (and subsequent gates). Once through I was initially riding on a track with corn fields on one side and woods on the other. I met a few walkers on the way, none of whom seem bothered by my presence. Could this be the way to Lord Chatham's Ride? No, but it was the beginning of a complex network of bumpy, root-laden tracks through thick, dark woods. Some of the tracks were dead ends and others led me round in circles. The bike took a bit of a beating if I'm honest and eventually, fed up with the whole thing and realising that if Lord Chatham's Ride existed at all it was behind the locked gates and within the grounds of Chevening House, I decided to give up, which wasn't easy. There was a tall metal gate that I heaved my bike over, but I had to leave it hanging by it's front wheel until I used the adjoining walkers' gate to escape the depressing wood. I unhooked the bike from the larger gate and rode into Knockholt for a second time (why I don't know) and decided - after considering a further two-mile ride into Dunton Green - to go home instead. I had contemplated Bojangles for tea and cake, but the misery of not being able to tackle Lord Chatham's ride had depressed me somewhat and I preferred the idea of just going home and forgetting about it. 

Escaping the woods!

Tea and cake at Sheree's Tearoom made things a lot better

Instead of retracing my steps along the private road that led to the Park Wood Golf Club, I followed road signs on a parallel road to Tatsfield and found myself on a hilly up and down country lane that plonked me bang in the centre of the village, which was bustling with cyclists and villagers. Andy and I are normally in the village early in the morning, back in the day, sitting inside the wooden bus shelter munching biscuits and drinking tea from a flask. Sheree's Tearoom is normally closed, but now, at around noon, it was busy with cyclists some of whom sat on the wooden tables on the green while others sat outside the tearoom, their bikes parked in front of it. It all seemed very agreeable so I stopped for tea and lemon cake and sat at a wooden table overlooking the lake. I phoned home to let them know where I was and then, after eating the cake and drinking the tea I rode out of Tatsfield following the usual route towards Botley Hill, but turned left on to The Ridge and followed the road into Woldingham, not looking forward to the steep but manageable hill at the far end of Slines Oak Road. I was home around 1300hrs.

One of many sinister roadside figures

On Friday, incidentally, I managed a Washpond Weeble in the morning, leaving the house at 1037hrs and getting home just before noon. I had made a snap decision to take the day off and that meant I could get the ride out of the way early and not feel tired and weary and demotivated, as I tend to feel around 4pm when a ride looms. I'm not saying I don't like cycling (I love it) but the Washpond Weeble, while pleasant, is a fitness ride, not so much a leisure ride (like riding to Westerham to meet Andy). While out I noticed that some people had made these strangely sinister stuffed figures and left them outside their houses or in fields. It was like something out of a horror movie (see photos for evidence).

Why was the road closed? Flytippers, that's why. But bikes not affected.

The Washpond Weeble is far better than doing the Norfolk Nobbler, which is restricted to suburban streets, but that extra 2.5 miles often makes me think (certainly if it's late in the day) that perhaps I'll just do five miles or, better still, nothing whatsover; instead I'll take a drive to Oxted and have a Millionaire's Shortbread in Caffe Nero or Costa. There's nothing worse than feeling tired and weary because it lurches towards despairing, feeling pointless and trapped and worthless and when I feel like that the last thing I want to do is jump on the bike. Ironically, however, jumping on the bike and riding for roughly one hour cures me so it's worth pushing myself when feeling down and getting out there.

Dunton Green? No, I'll go home...

And now it's bank holiday Monday and while it's looking a little overcast outside and I remember hearing heavy winds last night while I lay in bed, there doesn't appear to be any sign of rain, which is good as Andy and I are meeting again at Westerham and it's all seriously good news for this coming week's mileage. Yes, I missed my respectable 70 miles last week, but with today's ride I'm a good position to push things into the 90 miles bracket, and one more Westerham would take me over 100 miles, so here's hoping.

It's now Tuesday evening and I'm contemplating riding to work tomorrow. I don't know why I'm thinking about it because it ain't going to happen. I've yet to kick myself into gear on cycling to work and soon the clocks will go back, the nights will draw in and the time available to go cycling will be limited, which is very depressing. Winter will be winging it's way and soon there will be cheap tinsel Christmas trees in shop windows and people will be counting the shopping days until Christmas and all the greedy bastards will be ordering huge turkeys from the supermarket and stockpiling Paxo and then toilet rolls when it becomes obvious that Boris Johnson's gamble with the public's health was just that, a gamble. We'll all be in lockdown again and our mop-topped nutter of a Prime Minister will be stuttering out his excuses to a gullible public who will quite happily vote the nutter into office for another five years, whenever the next General Election is due. It's a long way off, but that makes it all even more depressing.

A view of Tatsfield pond while munching lemon cake and drinking tea

A ride to Westerham...and a few thoughts on freedom

I thought it might rain, but then, when I saw Magwitch by the roadside, small dog on a lead, I found myself full of optimism. "Lovely day!", he exclaimed and I had to agree. A chat had been on the cards for some weeks. We'd spotted one another before and simply acknowledged our co-existence with a nod and then carried on with our respective lives. Today was different, the circumstances changed, we were both easy like Sunday morning and it seemed like the right thing to do. I never stopped pedalling and as I headed for the hill I saw a dishevelled, harassed, pre-occupied, edgy Barbara Hershey – or somebody who looked a little like her – standing on the path admiring a horse across the street. She mumbled something, it sounded like "I've never seen such a tidy horse" and I had to agree, again without stopping, although I probably managed a smile. Perhaps she meant a tiny horse, a pygmy pony. I looked in the direction of the horse, who stared out from a solitary field in front of the football pitches as I passed. 

Freedom is a summer field...

In my head Dreaming from the Waist by the Who blasted out, I love that opening guitar that sounds like a flock of seagulls and the crashing, euphoric triumphalism of Keith Moon's manic drumming and then as Daltry's powerful voice kicks in – "I've got that wide awake, give-and-take, five o'clock-in-the-morning feeling" – I pushed on towards the 269 looking forward to the rest of the ride and the cinnamon brioche bun that awaited me at the Costa Coffee in Westerham. All was right with the world, I was on my fourth consecutive ride of the week and looking forward to chewing the fat with Andy about whatever we decide to discuss. 

Lord Chatham would have to wait, I thought, as I remembered an over-ambitious plan to ride early to Knockholt Pound this morning. I just wasn't sure I'd get back to Westerham by 9 o'clock, but I think I would have. There's always next week. Or let's hope so. 

I felt so glad - relieved - that I live in comfort in my 'safe European home' and not somewhere hostile like Kabul where I'd have to deal with the bearded, turbaned, extremist Taliban who think they can run other people's lives for them, make them adhere to a strict version of the teachings of the Koran. The worst thing about religion is that none of it is true, people don't come back from the dead, you can't feed hundreds of people with a loaf of bread and a sardine, when people die there are no virgins waiting for them; why would everybody be so scared of dying if that was the case? Why have a death penalty if it's really nothing more than a Brucie Bonus? 

I find myself extremely angry with the West's withdrawal from Afghanistan and, of course, it has its roots in something Trump arranged while in power last year; he, the biggest cock in the world, naturally, sowed the seeds of disaster, but I didn't expect Biden to carry it through and leave innocent Afghans at the mercy of a bunch of extremists. 

Why can't women be educated? Why do they have to cover up? Why is it that if they (or anybody else for that matter) don't agree with the Taliban they risk death? Everybody should be free to live their lives, think freely, do what they want, when they want, and not be cowering under the cosh of the fucking Taliban. And what about those soldiers we've all seen without arms and legs, 'life-changing injuries' caused by roadside bombs laid by the Taliban? It seems as if it was all for nothing. In another reality those soldiers could have been walking around without the aid of prosthetic limbs. And now we all face an uncertain future as the Taliban are sure to allow extremist groups like Isis and Al Qaeda into the country (I'm sure they're already there) to work on their evil plans for another 9/11, another bombing on the London Underground, perhaps. 

The worst thing is that it didn't need to happen, but it did and here we are, powerless, hearing stories of horror from those trying desperately to reach Kabul airport and find a flight out of hell. I think how easy it is for me to reach Heathrow and fly out of the country, I think of me now, at this very moment, listening to Nantucket Sleighride by Mountain, having just started to prepare dinner. I'm not expecting a biblical-looking gentleman, dressed in rags and carrying an AK47, to knock on my door and take me away because I've expressed a few anti-Taliban thoughts. I can call Boris Johnson an idiot (and worse) safe in the knowledge that the secret police won't be round to see me. I rode my bike 22 miles this morning without encountering any problems, no road blocks, snipers, mines, nothing. I am a free man and I don't see why others can't be free too. Why can't people live in peace? Surely we can all get on if only we stop forcing people to think in a certain way or act against their will. I don't trust the Taliban, they're saying they have changed, but I don't believe a word of it, and nor does anybody else, but time will tell. If they have changed there's no reason why some kind of deal isn't struck, but I can't say I'm optimistic.

Politicians at this present time are seriously lacking, especially in the UK. Just look at the British Government. Look at that idiot Boris Johnson, whose appearance alone let's the cat out of the bag. Dominic Raab, Michael Gove, Matt Hancock, Priti Patel, people we voted for; and look at Brexit. I love the fact that food prices are going to go up because we simply don't have the staff, all those foreign workers who willingly picked our crops from the fields have gone home and the lazy, good-for-nothing Brits think that kind of manual labour is below them. I understand we're now considering letting prisoners do the work instead, it's all very desperate, a bit like a chain gang in America in the 50s and 60s. What a fucking poppy show!

Facts and Figures – yes, I've been monitoring my rides!

Last week I just about scraped up some respectability for myself by managing to ride a little over 70 miles – 70.34 miles to be precise. A couple of weeks ago, while on holiday, I managed 143 miles and would have put in a few more had I not missed two days out of my cycling week. Now, back at work three days per week, I've got to recalibrate my weekly mileage. Today, as I write this, it's Tuesday and unless I ride into the office tomorrow (24 miles) or if I push the envelope a bit on Saturday morning, I'll be game on for another just about respectable 70 miles or so.

Saturday 15 August in Westerham Costa

It's Friday. Yesterday I rode to Westerham in the afternoon. By rights I should repeat the ride today if I'm going to gain any kind of self-respect, although I'm thinking hard about a Washpond Weeble instead, which will put me in a delicate position, although I might improve on last week's 70.34 miles. It boils down to whether I want to 'slightly improve' or put in a decent effort. Yesterday I left the house around 1630hrs and got home just before 1900hrs. I rode along Beddlestead and then down Clarks Lane into Westerham, but rode back on the road towards the Velobarn, hanging a left on Pilgrims Lane and then later taking the Woldingham turn-off known as The Ridge. It was quite a slog after work, but I'm glad I did it.

The weather outside looks alright, no sunshine to speak of, but it's warm enough, which is the main thing. I'm not sure if I've spoken much about it, but ever since 25 April this year I've been recording my rides and since that date I have covered a total of 1,202.15 miles. I haven't been riding every day, but I have had a few spells of daily rides and there haven't been many long gaps between rides. My longest spell of consecutive rides started on 15th July and finished on 27 July when there was a gap of just one day until I jumped back on the bike and rode to Westerham and then, two days later, rode to Shoreham in Kent (38.63 miles). My longest mileage was 143 miles during the week starting 25 July and now, as you know, I've had to recalibrate to take into consideration the work situation.

Saturday 21 August in Costa in Westerham

The great thing about recording rides (and I don't mean on Strava, although I do that too) is that you find little facts that can be used to enliven blog posts like this one. For example from 25 April until 25 July six out of 50 rides encountered rain as opposed to 25 out of 50 rides that were blessed with sunshine (now there's a heartening statistic! Since 1st July I have covered 578.20 miles on the bike and overall, since 25 April (as I've said already) I've riden a total of 1,202.15 miles. Not bad going. In terms of rides per week since 1st July, and in date order, I have been on the bike for seven days a week just once, five days a week three times, four days a week and two days a week just once each; the two days per week ride was on the week commencing 1 August when I rode on 1 August and 7 August, the ride on 1 August was warm and sunny, but the 7th August ride was warm with rain.  The four-ride week commenced on 8 August and finished 14 August and most of the time it was warm and sunny. Generally speaking the weather has been pretty good. Over the period from 25 April to the present day I have riden to Westerham 25 times and experienced the joys of the Washpond Weeble 21 times. And let's not forget new rides to Shoreham in Kent, Green Street Green and Knockholt and shortly there will be Lord Chatham's Ride, let's hope that's all I'm building it up to be.

Weekly mileages since 1st May 2021

Week ending

1 May 2021 = 60.18 miles

6 May 2021 = 65.64 miles

15 May 2021 = 105.89 miles

16 May 2021 = 25.35 miles (only rode once that week).

29 May 2021 = 75.58 miles

5 June 2021 = 67.09 miles

6 June 2021 = 21.44 miles (only rode once that week).

19 June 2021 = 84.75 miles

26 June 2021 = 70.46 miles

3 July 2021 = 84.57 miles

10 July 2021 = 34.53 miles

17 July 2021 = 83.17 miles

23 July 2021 = 115.73 miles

31 July 2021 = 143.53 miles

7 August 2021 = 47.68 miles

14 August 2021 = 70.34 miles

21 August 2021 = 83.01 miles

Notes: it's worth bearing in mind that since 1st May 2021 there have only been two riding weeks under 30 miles, 10 weeks over 70 miles, thirteen weeks over 60 miles and just three weeks over 100 miles.

Never be afraid of summer rain...

I was lying in bed, it was around 0600hrs and I could hear the rain. Garth, a work colleague, had been right, it was going to rain a lot on Saturday. I resigned myself to not riding and went downstairs to make some breakfast: boiled egg, fingers, a bowl of Alpen, around five grapes and two spoons of porridge oats. I almost forgot the mug of tea, decaff, as I'd been drinking caffeinated tea all week in the office and while I wasn't feeling wired, as I might have been if my tipple of choice was coffee, I'm not happy drinking too much caffeine, and some say there's more of it in tea than coffee, but who knows? Not me.

Looking out of the kitchen window I could see the rain falling into the birdbath. It had that look about it, the look that said, "you won't be riding today" so I sat down and messed around on the lap top in between munching the aforementioned boiled egg and fingers and then the bowl of cereal. 

Seat by the window, Costa, Westerham. I was back the following day!

It hadn't been a brilliant week on the bike, mainly because I was back at work and required to be in the office three days a week, Monday to Wednesday, except that this week I decided to leave my computer in the office on Wednesday night and return on Thursday and Friday because my computer at home – or rather the space where my computer had been – was being used, by somebody with another computer. So I had a whole week in the office, although the Thursday and Friday were the best as there was nobody else there, well, hardly anybody else. I spent the week having lunches at the Pop Inn Cafe (chicken fillet baguette most of the time, but chilli con carne and rice on one day and when apple pie and custard was ordered on two occasions. The problem with all of this, of course, is money. I hardly spent a penny working from home and managed to save a fair bit here and there, but now I'm forking out for extortionate train fares and expensive lunches. Fine, they hovered mostly around the £5 mark – hardly 'expensive' in a fine dining sense – although on a couple of occasions I spent a little more. The chilli was something like £6.90 plus a cup of tea (£1.20) and then the apple pie was £3.30 (£6.60 for the two). So, I've started spending money when in reality I don't need to, I should be making sarnies and going for a walk instead. Perhaps I'll change tack next week, because work is now a reality and while I could do the job perfectly well at home (and probably get more done in the process) it's back to work in the good old traditional manner. In all honesty, I like the interaction with colleagues and I like the separation of work from home life, but it does mean that cycling suddenly has to be recalibrated. Last week, while off work, I managed 145 miles of riding and it was fantastic (see the last two posts for more details) but now I'm going to have to take a look at how I can maintain around 100 miles per week. I've left a pair of shoes in the office so I don't need to carry them if I do decide to ride, so that will be less weight. In fact, without the shoes all I need to carry is a shirt, a towel and a pair of trousers. 

Here's my cycling plan, working on the fact that my cycling week still starts on Sunday. First, the Westerham ride to meet Andy (23 miles); then two 'Washpond Weebles' on the Thursday and Friday when I'm working from home (25 miles). Then there's Saturday's ride to Westerham (25 miles). The Saturday right could be extended to 30 + miles but let's say the default would be 25 miles. So, add all that up: 23 + 25 + 25 = 73 miles. Now, that total doesn't include a ride to work (24 miles) so add that on and you'd be looking at 97 miles per week, possibly over 100 if, on the final Saturday, I rode to Dunton Green or Shoreham (Kent) the birthplace, incidentally, of Hollywood actress Naomi Watts. Of course I might decide to ride all three days to the office, in which case it would be a Brucie Bonus of sorts.

Westerham via Beddlestead Lane and Woldingham

Today, when the weather brightened up a little, I did get out on the bike and while it tipped down here and there I managed to go all the way to Westerham, the slow way. In fact I would say it rained more than it didn't rain, but thanks to the summer it wasn't cold and I must say I rather enjoyed it as all the hedgerows on either side of the lanes were weighted down with rainwater and there was kind of misty air that made it all a little magical. I didn't see any other riders. When I reached Westerham I stopped at Costa Coffee and ordered a large English Breakfast tea and a toasted tea cake with butter, except that I didn't have it toasted. Then I found a seat by the window and the sun came out. I sat there not really thinking about anything in particular, just people watching and then, when the bun and the tea had gone I got back on the bike and rode out of town, past the Velobarn and then left into Pilgrims Lane. I rode to Botley Hill and took a left turn on The Ridge. Going through Woldingham meant a climb up Slines Oak Road on to the 269, but I took it in my stride and soon found myself on the home straight. 

All the way to and from Westerham I spent a lot of time avoiding roadside puddles and had to be careful not to move out into the line of traffic. I didn't get that wet and I think it was because I wore only the Lycra and a fleece, there was nothing to soak up the water; it got me thinking about how slow I am to recognise what's good and what's bad. I thought back to the time when Andy and I used to walk from Westerham to Oxted to catch a train home and the sound of deflated tyres squeaking along the road on the three-mile walk. Then, of course, we discovered 'leeches' and started to fix our punctures by the roadside. But for years and years we wore jeans or cords or cargo trousers and Levi jackets and when it rained the water soaked in, making everything cold and sluggish and unpleasant. Andy realised before I did and then, after a while, so did I. The blog is still called 'NoVisibleLycra'. I only started wearing visible Lycra this summer. It's much better, although I'm not sure what I'll do when the temperatures start to drop.

I reached home around 12.30hrs and stuffed my face with toast (two slices with butter) and a cup of tea, then, feeling energised, I did all the wiping up and then went in search of a new mower as our old Hayter 36 finally died. Right now, it's gone 1830hrs and I'm sitting here writing while watching Matt Baker on his farm, which is fairly relaxing, although not a patch on Clarkson's Farm on Amazon, but then Baker and Clarkson are chalk and cheese.

I reckon tomorrow's ride will be similar to today's (rain here and there) but I'm going to do it. Never be afraid of summer rain, it's not cold so just get out there and enjoy the ride.

Sunday was a far better day and there was no rain to speak of. I rode the straight route to Westerham there and back along the 269. Andy and I sat inside the Costa as the weather started to deteriorate. I ordered a large tea and a cinnamon brioche bun; Andy had a black coffee and a toasted tea cake with jam (no butter). We chatted about electric cars and how funny it will be when all those people complaining about not being able to park outside their own houses have something else to moan about: like they can't charge their electric cars from charging points outside their own houses. Imagine the chaos when cars, like mobile phones, run out of power and have to be towed to the nearest charging point! And let's not forget that electric cars, or EVs as they're known in the trade, carry Lithium-ion batteries and, right now, all the big steelmakers, like POSCO and Hyundai in South Korea, to name but two, are seriously getting into Lithium mining. We say: forget about investing in roads infrastructure, make public transport cheaper and safer, introduce more cycle lanes (of the variety found only in Holland at present) and life will be so much easier (and healthier) all round.

Covid closes Costa and other stories...

Last week was arguably the best week of cycling in terms of the distance covered, a cool 143 miles, just over, but I didn't ride every day of the week as I did the week before, albeit shorter distances, ie many Washpond Weebles. Last week involved rides to Westerham, a ride to a place called Pratt's Bottom and a ride to Shoreham in Kent, which was kind of a mistake, but it worked out a better ride than the one I had intended to do. I set off with the idea of riding first to a place called Twitton and then riding a little further to Otford, but in the end, I turned left instead of right, then saw a sign for the HoneyPot Tearooms (in Shoreham) and the rest is history. In fact, the Shoreham ride is the longest undertaken on Strava, or so they tell me.

The end of Ivy Lane where I turned right...

I loved Shoreham. It's a very pleasant and quaint little village and the HoneyPot Tearooms was perfect. The ride, in total, was a tad over 38 miles, roughly 20 miles each way and, as I said, my longest ride on Strava. I followed the route I would take for Dunton Green (along Pilgrims Lane, past the turn-offs for Chevening Lake, on the right, and Chevening House, on the left) and then, just outside of Dunton Green, I took a left turn and once past the Donnington Hotel, I turned right on to Ivy Lane and followed what turned out to be a very narrow country lane that was perfect for bicycles, but I wouldn't fancy my chances in a car. At the end of what was a very pleasant roll I arrived at a T-junction and joined the Pilgrims Way. At first I turned right and then, unsure that I was travelling in the right direction, I turned around and followed the road in the opposite direction until I saw a sign for the HoneyPot Tearooms. Had I remained on my original course I would have found Twitton and then, of course, Otford, but when I saw the sign for the tearooms I thought, mistakenly, that it would be in the centre of Twitton, but it turned out to be Shoreham. Little did I know, but I had travelled further than I might have done had I gone to Twitton, but it doesn't matter. This all means that a ride to Twitton and Otford will probably be done next week, possibly Saturday, as I'm back at work now and won't be as free as I have been over the past fortnight (I was on holiday, thanks for asking).

Tearoom sign sent me to Shoreham

A few kind words about the HoneyPot Tearooms: I ordered a slice of lemon cake and a paper mug of tea. The weather was perfect for cycling, not too hot, but bright and sunny and warm and I enjoyed just sitting there, in the fresh air under a kind of canopy, but not in the main tearooms, which were closed off. There were other customers: a young couple with a small dog who had a couple of hours without their young children who were with their grandparents. They told an older couple about their plans to holiday in Tenerife over the next few days, just a week, but I'm guessing a much-needed break. There was also a dad with his two young children and a couple who stopped by for something, I can't remember what they ordered as I was too busy with my own tea and cake.

Soon it was time to head back home, but before doing so I rode through Shoreham and then turned around and rode out of town on the same road I'd arrived on, Filston Lane. I turned left on to Pilgrims Way and then right on to Ivy Lane and when I reached the Donnington Hotel I turned right and followed the road to the roundabout where I turned left and rode towards Chevening on Sundridge Lane, taking a right turn on to Ovenden Road and then another left on to the all-too-familiar Pilgrims Lane, which took me to the foot of the hill out of Westerham. The rest of the ride was a 'known known' and I must have reached home around 1pm, it was Saturday afternoon.

The Honey Pot Tea Rooms in Shoreham, Kent

Earlier in the week, I think it was Wednesday, I headed for a place called Pratt's Bottom. You might be seeing a theme developing: Twitton, Pratt's Bottom, and that was the idea, to visit places with funny names that I'd spotted on the map. Anyway, I rode the normal way towards Westerham for this ride, but instead of going down the hill I followed the off-road track that passes the Park Wood Golf Club, taking the left fork (not the right) and then being faced with a choice: crossing the road and taking either the left or right fork. I chose the former and rode along Buckhurst Road to Cadham and again found myself with a dilemma: do I turn left or right? Had I turned right I would have eventually found the place I was intending to visit (Knockholt) but as there was nobody around to ask and no signs, I turned left and rolled my way towards a place called Green Street Green. After a little faffing around I followed signs to Pratt's Bottom and initially stopped to buy mineral water, but a queue meant that I ditched both on a shelf near the exit and left, slightly peeved. I crossed the road and followed a road into Knockholt where I found a convenience store. There I purchased a Snickers and a bottle of Evian. By now the rain had started, but fortunately it was warm so it didn't really matter. In fact, it had started to pour down long before I reached Knockholt and continued for some time. I rode along Main Road and eventually took a left turn down Sundridge Lane, taking a right into Pilgrims Lane and then riding home the usual route. Coming back from Shoreham I had approached Pilgrims Lane from the other direction and turned left into Pilgrims Lane, but coming back from Knockholt I was on the same road, just travelling downhill and not uphill.

Lemon cake and tea at the Honey Pot

Another ride that will have to be done at a later date is Lord Chatham's Ride, which is near to Knockholt and Knockholt Pound; it's a track that runs through a wood close to Sundridge Lane and then sweeps round on itself and finishes at the back of Chevening House. I think it might be a pleasant ride through the woods, hence my interest. I returned home from my Knockholt ride around 1pm.

Other than Shoreham and Pratt's Bottom/Knockholt I made a couple of trips to Westerham. In fact, unlike the week prior when I rode every day of the week, last week saw just five rides and two days off, but the mileage was such that I managed a much higher weekly total.

The Costa Coffee in Westerham was closed all week and I found out on Sunday that it was due to four staff members testing positive for COVID. This meant that I had to drink tea and eat cake from the Tudor Rose and I think I might have mentioned in my last post that the value for money there is pretty poor, so I was glad when I found that Costa had re-opened on Sunday. Andy and I sat outside. I ordered large tea and a cinnamon Danish, but I messed up last week as I'd already enjoyed a home-made Biscoff Millionaire's Shortbread during the week at Flavours in Warlingham and the aforementioned lemon cake in the HoneyPot Tearooms on Saturday – not good.

I've yet to experience Lord Chatham's Ride

As for future rides, I'm going to have to work something out as I'm back at work three days a week from today (2nd August 2021); this means that I won't be able to devote so much time to riding the bike, certainly not on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. That said I'm considering riding to work tomorrow, but I've considered it before and not bothered, let's see. I know there might be rain tomorrow evening, which won't be very pleasant on the uphill return journey and those nasty hills (White Hill Lane and Tithepit Shaw Lane), but I might give it a go. But how to maintain a healthy 80 miles per week? Okay, there's Sunday's Westerham Ride (circa 22 miles) then there's my Saturday ride (which could be circa 30-38 miles) - what's that? A minimum of 52 miles plus 25 miles if I ride two midweek Weebles (Thursday and Friday) so 52 plus 25 = 77 miles, not bad, just three miles off of my magical 80 miles (for ultra respectability). Perhaps if one of my rides is the Beddlestead/Woldingham circuit, that would do it! So it's possible, but it wouldn't give me the satisfaction of not paying the extortionate train fares. I think I'll have to adopt a suck it and see approach, see how I feel, what the weather's like and then take a chance on riding in. I better shut up talking about it otherwise I'll start boring people when I continually don't ride to work and end up making excuses instead.

Twitton and Otford? Maybe next week...

I took Buckhurst Lane to reach Cadham

Shoreham in Kent is a nice little village