I took a ride down to Penshurst Place in Kent, which had been recommended by a friend as having a) very pretty gardens and b) an excellent afternoon tea. Plus, it has grass parking, rather than gravel. In wetter weather, this would be a muddy nightmare, but - we have a heatwave.
I meandered down the A2 and A20, behaving especially well because I acquired a cop bike behind me at Bricklayers Arms, just after the flyover, who stayed with me until the Lewisham roundabout where the A20 and A21 part ways.
I wandered onto the A225, and I have to wonder why I don’t take that road more often. In between the towns and villages, it’s full of fun twisty bits and pretty shady bits, where in summer the trees create a cool green tunnel, and in winter it’s a test of how fast photochromic lenses can really react.
I shall try it again in 5 months or so. I spotted some nice pubs along the way, too, which will make good stopping points.
Eventually, I reached the Penshurst gates and parked in the shadiest spot I could, in a vain attempt to let the engine cool down while I whiled away time wandering the gardens, drinking cold things, and trying (delicious) cake at the Porcupine Pantry.
I say vain, because when the temperature is hovering near the 30 Celsius mark, cooling down is a very relative term. The one trouble with riding in hot weather is that as soon as you’re off the bike, you’re in jeans and boots. On the bike, with the breeze in your face, that’s absolutely fine. Off the bike? Well, the term boil-in-bag springs to mind.
