When I woke in the wee small hours of Monday morning I contemplated driving to the coast instead of cycling as it was a little cloudy and as usual I did a good job of convincing myself that I wasn't up to the ride and that the roads would be far too busy and that I would be gobbled up by a troll under the first bridge I came upon. Ok so I lied about the roads.
I have always enjoyed being up and about before other people and Monday morning was no different in that respect. I gulped down my coffee, sorted the dogs and then spent far too long trying to decide between wearing bib longs or shorts. The shorts were new and hadn't yet had an outing so I bit the bullet and put them on before realising that the padding was a little thicker than I would have liked, no time to start faffing I padded back down the stairs and grabbed my phone and jacket. I had remembered to apply sun lotion to my face and ears although had forgotten about the two protrusions from my shorts, a decision I would later come to regret.
I set off into the morning mist at approximately 6.30am, several people were buying their morning paper from the corner shop, most of them in their cars. Off I pootled up to Creeting St Mary and out towards Creeting St Peter. After ascending a nice little hillock I noticed a man stood outside a house looking across the road at me, I waved and said good morning, he didn't bat an eyelid, I wondered if he had received a botox injection the day before. On returning along that very road later the same day it became apparent that the gentleman was not a gentleman at all but in fact a scarecrow.
As a child I enjoyed reading Beatrix Potter and for the first time in my life I felt as though I was riding through the pages of one of her books. Peter Rabbit and Squirrel Nutkin appeared along many of the roads and I wondered if they had taken chase. I stopped at a beautiful graveyard to admire the sun dappled headstones against a backdrop of overhanging trees, nestled against river. Lambs in the field next to the graveyard suckled from their mothers in the morning dew. It was then I realised that life doesn't get much better than that. I had thought about taking a picture but knew I wouldn't have any trouble remembering such a scene.
I questioned why I was wearing a long sleeved thermal base layer and an Assos Intermediate Jacket, I never removed that base layer despite having a change of clothes in my Carradice bag. I giggled to myself as I realised that my bag probably weighed more than my bike and that I probably looked more like I was touring. I hadn't removed the rear mudguard as I didn't want to tempt fate.
Jezza mentioned Sibton Green, it was on my list of places that I would ride through or round or near, I don't remember seeing much either or if I did it didn't impress me enough to enable me to remember.
Villages came and went and the traffic started to increase as the morning progressed, everyone appeared to be in a hurry. I noticed that my speed was increasing and I slowed down to take in more of the beautiful Suffolk countryside. I stopped at a service station and purchased a delicious ice cream lolly thingy, the woman behind the counter said it was a bit early to be eating an ice lolly and that I probably ought to ride a few miles to warm up before doing so. I politely mentioned that I had ridden a few miles, well about 25 at that point, she was shocked. Several cyclists passed me as I sat by the side of the road to eat my lolly but none of them returned so much as a nod or a wink.
I took a slight detour at one point, please note that detour in this context does not mean lost. I probably added over ten miles to my journey as once I arrived at Framlingham the signs all seemed to have vanished and I cycled round and round in circles. At one stage I rode along the A1120 until I found a sign with a familiar place name and headed off to the right to continue my journey to the coast. I began to feel a little low on energy at around 39 miles which is when I called Jezza to say I was about 5 miles away, I think that 5 miles was more like 7, when you aren't feeling too good 7 can feel like 20.
Arriving at Walberswick I could see Jezza parked on the bench looking as fresh as a daisy, I on the other hand looked worn and felt a little jaded. We walked a few feet to the tea shop and consumed cake and coffee. I realise that I was jabbering on about everything and nothing and that cycling 45 ish miles on just an ice cream lolly thing was not a good idea. It wasn't long before we headed over to the beach where Jezza did a spot of sunbathing and I wondered back across the dunes, the bridge and the car park to ask the attendant where I might find the facilities. It was all he could do to look at me in the face, he kept peering down and looking at my legs, they were a little pink at this stage. I was told that the toilets were back along the road and on the right or alternatively I could head over the footbridge and use the toilets in Southwold, why hadn't I thought of that?
I think that Jezza covered the rest of our journey much better than I could ever hope to do and so will not bore you with my ramblings any longer.
It was a most pleasurable day although my left sit bone bears testament to the fact that it continues to cause me considerable distress and pain after a long ride. The egg sized swelling has subsided a little and I am able to sit without too much discomfort. The stripes on my legs are now a golden brown.
Well done Jezza for riding so far after being off the bike for such a long period.
