Prior to Norfolk

Monday 20^th April 2026

I haven’t been out much on the bike recently, following an unfortunate incident with a dog which removed rather more skin from my knuckle than I was willing to donate. It’s not a very engaging story (and a bit gory), so I won’t dwell on it, but suffice to say I couldn’t really wear gloves for five weeks, and cycling without them would have been a fairly grim affair in March. By early April, however, I was back in the saddle, gradually building up the distances again.

Consequently, I feel somewhat underprepared for the forthcoming cycle tour from London through East Anglia later this month. To complete my quest to cycle through all 48 ceremonial counties of England, I have just two left: Norfolk and the City of London. I’ve mapped out a route to cover both, and I expect to finish by the end of the month. Admittedly, this is a year or two behind Jim who first tempted me into this slightly unhinged challenge, but it’s been an enjoyable ride.

The trip begins with a train to London and then takes me through Greater London, the City of London (they’re different, apparently), Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk, Cambridgeshire, Northamptonshire and Warwickshire. Whilst I’ve technically cycled in Suffolk before, I’ve never been entirely convinced.  It seems the county boundary performs a suspicious loop around Newmarket just to claim the town. I passed through Newmarket in 2021, but this time I intend to give Suffolk a proper and indisputable visit.

All the accommodation was booked earlier in the year, and everything was neatly arranged until this week, when one Airbnb host casually informed me he’d taken in a lodger and had cancelled my booking. Airbnb did their best to console me with £19 compensation and an offer of help I didn’t need. The replacement accommodation I’ve now found looks perfectly fine, though it’s a few miles farther from Coventry station, meaning an earlier start on the final day.

To assess my fitness (although there’s precious little I can do about it now), I went out for a 64-mile hilly ride today. I took the touring bike, and it felt fine. I’m therefore choosing to believe that much flatter roads with a loaded bike will feel similarly agreeable. My route took me through Waddington (but stopped short of the fell) before tracking over to Chipping for lunch. I took a slight diversion to collect a Veloviewer tile (accessible by road) which backed onto the fells. I wanted this particular tile so that it would link into a further group I’m planning to gather tomorrow.

The weather forecast promised sunny intervals, giving way to showers after 2pm, so I had planned to be home by then. However the pull of Brabin’s excellent café in Chipping lured me in, and so I risked a soaking before the day was out. Thankfully, it wasn’t to be since I arrived home dry and in fact, it didn’t rain at all.

Tuesday 21st April 2026

At 8am today, I packed my walking gear and drove to the Trough of Bowland to meet Michael. We met where we would finish after an eight-mile tile-gathering walk, then drove together to the start at the foot of Parlick Hill. It was a beautiful morning, if a little breezy – a 13mph easterly that felt rather more enthusiastic on the tops. 

We didn’t actually visit the summit of Parlick Hill, as we were on a mission to gather tiles rather than trig points, but instead skirted around the west side before heading to Fair Snape Fell. On the peat moors, you often see signs warning against starting fires, but today one felt a tad more menacing: “No fires… beware of unexploded shells.” Reassuring.

We navigated past these hazards and were soon taking shelter from the fierce wind on top of Fair Snape (510m). Some of the paths down were a little sketchy, but we descended safely, and I managed to collect nine brand-new tiles. Sadly, the tile I had specifically sought out yesterday didn’t link up after all – so another outing will be required to resolve that.

I’d like to say the walk went without a hitch, but that would be untrue. Towards the end of the route, we found ourselves on the wrong side of a stream. I’m not entirely sure how this happened, but there we were.  The stream was perhaps up to a foot deep and ten feet across – too deep to wade – but dotted with rocks that tempted Michael to attempt a careful crossing over what looked like extremely slippery surfaces. I opted for an alternative a little further upstream. There, a stony “beach” extended to the centre of the stream, followed by a dry (and apparently solid) rock about two feet from the opposite bank. I judged that I could easily jump to that rock and then spring across to safety. For anyone considering relying on my judgement in future, I advise caution.

I made the leap to the rock successfully, but as the opposite bank stood about two feet above the waterline, I struggled to gain the necessary height. I landed on my knees, grabbed a handful of grass to haul myself up and promptly discovered that the grass was less committed to the plan than I was. It gave way, and I fell backwards into the stream.

Earlier I mentioned the water was about a foot deep. At this particular point, however, where the stream narrowed, it was closer to two feet, comfortably above my knees. I completed the final couple of miles in squelching boots and thoroughly soaked trousers. The lightweight fabric dried out reasonably quickly, but my books were less cooperative. They are currently outside in the sun, gently steaming, and possibly reconsidering their life choices.  I’ll not need my boots next week so they can take all the time they need to dry out.