We dropped Graham off to put the kettle on, assembled the tandem, had a nice cup of tea and finally, at about 12.30, we were on our way. It was cold, enough to warrant a pair of Thinsulates over the gel mitts, as we picked our way through the rather harsh modern housing which is to be found on the outskirts of Wivenhoe. We reached the road towards Brightlingsea, and were surprised by how much undulation there was. There was also a lot of traffic, it being a B road, which was quite fast.
One lady, a passenger in a passing car, wound her window down and reminded us, in case it had escaped our notice, that there was a cycle lane across the road. Indeed there was, and it might have been of some use had it been on our side, because we were climbing a moderate hill and going slowly, if it had been properly maintained and if it had been swept. I suggested that she bought a bike and use it.
Once we were past Brightlingsea church it was pretty well down hill all the way to the estuary. We made for the promenade, which was an unappealing collection of static caravans and beach huts with a café at one end. It was lunch time so we had food.
By now it was warming up and the tide was coming in.
We had to adjust Mrs.Wow's cleat, which was forcing her foot to turn in a bit - we had fitted double-sided SPDs and now she has no choice but to clip in. This was easier said than done because those cleats are a couple of years old at least and the hexagonal holes in the bolts were full of debris, which needed to be cleared before the allen key would purchase. However, eventually we managed it and were on our way again.
We had never been to Brightlingsea before, but the town centre has a large Co-op and a few attractive pubs. At the top of the hill there is a church
which looks very much like Dedham church, except across the road from this one there is a boat full of flowers.
We went to have a look at St. Osyth, which is very much as TimC described it, being full of caravans. The beach wasn't up to much
but you could see the nuclear power station.
No matter how much Mrs. Wow peered into the distance,
she couldn't see any naturists.
On the way back towards St. Osyth village we saw three hares in a field. Two of them stood still for a moment.
Returning through the village we noticed that a sign had been erected
although whether it was a funeral director's we were not sure.
After St.Osyth we headed north towards Great Bentley and met a man pushing his bike the other way. His tyre was deflated so we offered assistance, but I'm afraid that on inspecting the damage, he pulled a 2" galvanised nail out of the tyre. He was out practising for a coast-to-coast that he and his pals were intending for July. He had no tools, pump or repair kit (I hope he's a bit better equipped when he sets off!) so we offered the use of ours. Unfortunately the nail had puncture the tube once on the outside but about a dozen times on the inside. We let him have our spare tube.
Very shortly after setting off again, I noticed a large bird patrolling the far side of a field. We stopped and watched. I initially though "buzzard" but its flight patterns were not really buzzard-like: they tend to soar quite high with few wingbeats, whereas this was flapping around quite a lot mostly between ten and twenty feet above the ground. It reminded me of the two occasions that I have seen a hen harrier, but this looked a bit too big. Then the sun caught the bird's wings and there were distinct patches of white and rusty red. A red kite? Surely not in Essex. After we had been watching for two or three minutes we lost sight of the bird. I thought I might have been able to see it perched in a tree but it was well over a quarter of a mile away and I could not be sure.
As we rode along the more I though about its flight, the more I was sure it wasn't a red kite. We have spent many happy hours in Wales and the Chilterns watching kites, and they seem to defy the laws of physics, the effortless way they stay aloft, with so few wingbeats that they really do look as though they are on a string. I still kept coming back to a harrier of some kind. A marsh harrier? To be honest, I didn't know, because I'd never seen a marsh harrier, but I know they are sometimes seen in Essex, which I suspect red kites seldom are. We would have to check later.
We carried on into Great Bentley, admiring its enormous 43-acre village green, and thinking what a fine place it would be for that elusive YACF rounders match. Just as we were leaving the village we spotted a barn owl, very close, just to our left. It kept dipping below the other side of the hedge and I don't think it knew we were there at first, because once it had caught sight of us it veered up and away and that was the last we saw of it.
We then headed north through Balls Green, although there was no village sign telling us that we were there, and into Frating - such a fragrant-sounding name! We happened upon a pub, the Old Court House and they were open. The Adnams was excellent, and we experimented with different flavours of crisp. The onion bahji ones were very good. Mrs. Wow plumped for crispy duck with hoi sin.
Not long after this we rolled back into Wivenhoe where we had another cup of tea with Graham, Christina and Mona and finally packed the tandem up onto the back of the car and drove off, just as the sun was dipping below the horizon.
Graham's Grade II listed student doss
and the view across the road from Graham's Grade II listed student doss.
It was a lovely afternoon's ride: 36 miles, but it's not quite ready for a WARTY. We need to avoid the busier roads and find a decent beach for a summer swim. I have a cunning plan... oh, and it was indeed a
marsh harrier.
Route
