STARRY EYED

In winter, one remembers just how far north the UK really is, because there is so little daylight. And that’s not factoring in the weather. So it’s always with some trepidation that I start my bike after a weather or work induced break from riding. 

Luckily, photovoltaic technology has improved significantly since the very first solar powered experiments, and my little solar panel has managed to keep enough of a trickle of charge flowing so far that the engine, however reluctantly in the cold, has started every time so far this season. 

The other issue with winter weather is its changeability. I had only a short window between showers, so I went to a favourite winter-ride pub: The Star at Leatherhead. It has heaters and shelter over its outdoor tables and actual fires inside. They’re also dog and bike friendly, which is not always as advertised in pubs. 

It was remarkably busy for a Saturday when I got there, but as usual, the service was welcoming and attentive, and the food was as good as usual. 

Also, they give you little chocolates with your coffee, which is always a plus. 

GLARE AND SPRAY

Lately, it has been rather wet. It’s that autumnal time of year again, when the leaves are browning but not crisping, because it rains too much for that. I went for a ride on a Friday, which is a nice day to go, because it falls between week and weekend from a traffic perspective. This is a mixed bag in autumn, because wet roads glare with the low-angled sun, and spray when a car or truck passes, and take longer to dry with fewer hot engines passing over them. 

I went to the Mill at Gomshall, off the A25 between Dorking and Guildford, which has gone through at least 4 sts of management since I first discovered it. So far they have all maintained the nicely paved parking. 

The current, post-covid management has clearly put some thought into things, because they had the fire going. They took one look at my blue-tinged self and seated me cosily next to it, despite not officially being open just quite yet. They supplied me with coffee and a menu - the latter in expectation of opening in the next ten minutes. The menu changes every set of management and again, this lot have thought about it. It’s a nice balance between variety and still being small enough to do it all properly. This is not an easy balance to strike. 

As cold as the day was, and as glaring as the road was, I have added this pub back to my winter rides list.

SEASONING

 Recently, I went for the first ride after 3 weeks of solar trickle in the failing light and sun of a British autumn. Photovoltaic technology has improved to the point where strong, direct sunlight is no longer a prerequisite for generating electricity. My little panel worked, it seems, enough so that the bike started at the first try, despite the cold and lack of recent use. 

It is, as I said, autumn, the changeover season of jeans with winter gloves, summer boots and winter buff. It’s the season of extremely irritating light levels - you realise just how far north the UK is when the sun remains at such a glaringly impossible squint of an angle for hours on end. 

It’s autumn - the start of the pub roast season. So I got to thinking about how to judge a pub, having spent the summer judging vineyards by criteria other than wine. 

Clearly parking will be a factor - in the wet and muddy winter, paved parking will have a large advantage. Coffee is eternally a factor for me. 

Wood fires and outside heating could tip it just as much as good food and bike-friendly service. 

THE MOUNT

 The Mount Vineyard is not far from Seveonaks, near Shoreham in Kent (not to be confused with any other Shoreham in south-east England). Shoreham is one of those villages which is defying the general trend of closing pubs by having at least 3, all of which seem to be doing just fine. 

I headed to the Mount on a Saturday, which involved a lot of town riding (partly because the M25 is boring, and partly because the M25 was partly closed). I’m not a big fan of town riding, but as I’d been overly optimistic and put on my summer jacket, the lack of a 70 mph headwind wasn’t the worst thing. Traffic was pretty bad, though, as there seemed to be a plethora of roadworks between the A3 and the A21. 

The A21 is a pretty fun road, though, and the A224 has some nice moments as well. Then I was onto an unclassified single lane road winding up and down hills between some very leafy hedges, which have clearly been making the most of the late summer sun. The surface, however, was surprisingly good for the road type - I’m used to roads like this having potholes and muddy patches and general damage from farm vehicles for which they were not designed. 

The Mount’s driveway and parking are, of course, gravel. But shallow gravel, which is much easier on the bike than the deep, grip-less stuff. Leaving was an experience. They were having a busy day, so had instituted a one-way system, which included leaving via a field. 

For field, read: dodge the ruts and mud-slicks and people walking their dogs. 

The setting is beautiful, the shop is well-stocked and very friendly and the coffee shop was shut. The restaurant, however, was open and served very good coffee. The menu isn’t the most varied, being largely pizza and salad, but I have no problems with a limited menu if a place does it as well as The Mount did. 

DENBIES

 I’ve been going to Denbies for years. Adding it to this summer’s collection of vineyards feels almost like cheating, but given that I’m still healing from the bicycle accident, I wanted a shorter, more familiar run than any of the Kent or Hampshire options. Denbies is a fairly straight and easy run down the A24, corrugated roads and tar banding notwithstanding.

Denbies is very well geared towards visitors, although I suggest parking closer to the building, where it’s paved, rather than on the openwork bricks further away - particularly if it’s been raining, as side-stands and mud are not a great combination at the best of times. The bricks are openwork enough that this is a consideration. 

Denbies is not far from Box Hill and Ryka’s, but has infinitely better coffee than Ryka’s. This isn’t all that startling an achievement: Ryka’s serves instant. As I am an unabashed coffee snob, I don’t do instant.

The visitor centre is just that - containing a gift shop, event space and more than one option for coffee. They also tend to do an interesting line in cakes, if, like me, you get there in between actual meal times

JUMP

Recently, I had a bicycle accident involving wet road paint, a downhill, the mechanics of braking and grip, and smooth concrete. This did damage to both knees, both shoulders, wrists and elbows. It took over a week before I had sufficient mobility even to contemplate riding the motorbike again. 

Let’s be clear - I don’t try to save a sliding bike of any kind if I’m not absolutely sure I can. I don’t filter through gaps I’m not instantly sure are wide enough. The first rule of filtering: if you have to think about whether you’ll fit, you won’t. 

Sliding or skidding vehicles are similar - if you’re not bone-deep, instinctively sure you can save it, you can’t. So just jump. This advice came to me from a surgeon who had to repair the damage caused by a biker not jumping. Hit the kill switch if you can, but jump. 

Having jumped, I got off with soft tissue damage. Yes, it takes a long time to heal, but at least I can go riding unencumbered by casts and slings and doctor's orders. 

A gentle run on familiar roads, nothing too twisty or complex until I am not on three doses of anti-inflammatory gel a day, and no longer have bruises which object to the lightest impact of gravel bits or insects. 

I shall resume my tour of vineyards soon. I really hope.  

SUNNYHILL

 Sunnyhill is just southeast of Oxford, and makes organic wine and cider. It also has llamas. I had arranged to meet a friend there, as it’s about equidistant for us. The problem with arrangements involving other people is that it’s harder to change plans when the weather forecast changes. 

Because motorways are boring, I took the A-roads - the A40, which is fun and has some fun twists between Stokenchurch and Tetworth - coming off at Wheatley. 

This is summer, of course, so the signposts are somewhat obscured by overly enthusiastic plant-life. But from Wheatley to Ladder Hill to Cuddesdon wasn’t overly complicated. 

Once there, I barely got into their little cafe before the rain really started to come down. They do serve cake with their coffee, which helps with the thawing and relaxing process.

I feel that Sunnyhill would be nicer in weather that better matched its name. 

I came back on the motorway - boring, but safer in the weather conditions (driving rain, very little visibility, high levels of spray) - and would really like the UK to institute the following 2 road rules: A lower speed limit in poor visibility or bad weather (which most of Europe already has) and headlights on in poor visibility or bad weather. Cars vanish into the spray without lights, regardless of paint colour. 

RIDGEVIEW

Ridgeview Vineyard is down near Brighton, on the Ditchling side. I took the A24, because the M23 is, like most motorways, boring. So, from London, A24, A272 all the way under the M23 Junction up to Ansty, then the B2036 (fun, and in good condition for a B road) towards Ditchling. Ridgeview is on Fragbarrow (I love English place and road names sometimes), off the B2112. 

Now for the important stuff: Fragbarrow is paved. As is the Ridgeview driveway, AND half their parking. I am a HUGE fan of road surfaces on which my bike and boots have grip and parking surfaces on which my bike stand will live up to its name, rather than sinking down into gravel or mud.

The other half of their parking is gravel, but under a very fine mesh that stops the sinking aspect nicely by providing non-gravel bits to go under the stand.

Ridgeview’s shop only sells wine and wine-related items, but if you walk around the corner, they have a restaurant on site, which serves a fairly limited menu of drinks and dishes it does very well. I recommend their Sunday lunch. 

ALBURY ORGANIC

 Albury Organic is just behind the parking for Silent Pool on the A25. It’s up a really steep, rutted track from there, with gravel of varying and unpredictable depth, which crosses an established walking route. If you’re going, park in the paved Silent Pool parking and walk from there, past the Silent Pool Gin place and the little eatery next to that. 

Albury has a tasting room that serves a few appetisers/ bar snacks and is pretty and pleasant, but it doesn’t have anything not-wine to drink (except water). To a biker, this is not a selling point.

TINWOOD ESTATE

 Just north of Chichester is the Tinwood estate, which produces sparkling wines. It looked to be doable, in timing terms, to fit in before the predicted rain, so I headed off. The A3 is full of roadworks and therefore delays. The A283 would be more fun if resurfaced - it has some nice twisties and it’s varied, but so is the road surface - a kind of patchwork of tar bands and potholes. 

The A285, however, is FUN. It has twists and hills and some good fast bits and goes through scenic villages. I was enjoying it so much, I missed the turn into Tinwood, and had to do a somewhat awkward U-turn on adverse camber. 

Tinwood has deep gravel parking, resulting in negative grip for both tyres and boots. It is, however, flattish. This is the downside. 

It has a lovely cafe area and very tasty food to suit all dietary restrictions. When I was there, they were out of plant milk, but as the coffee is good enough not to need milk, this was just a minor inconvenience. 

The predicted rain decided not to happen until well after I was home, roadwork delays and all. 

WISTON

I went to Wiston for breakfast (which they only serve on weekends). It’s just off the A24, down by Worthing. Now the A24 has its boring sections, I grant you, but it also has a number of pretty bits and fairly twisty bits, and - being an A road - is in reasonably good condition, surface-wise. I happen to like it, and use its boring straight sections to open up the throttle and blow some dust off my spark plugs. 

Wiston’s restaurant is called Chalk, and while they recommend you book, they are perfectly happy to take the kind of walk-in who won’t take up much space. 

It was a very good breakfast and I especially cite the cinnamon bun, which didn’t look as I expected but was quite possibly the most delicious cinnamon bun I’ve had. 

The downside of Wiston is the parking. Not only is it gravel (although the roads and approaches are paved), it’s also on a slope. Two wheels, gravel, side-stand and incline are not the world’s most stable combination. That is the only thing I’d change, were I Wiston. 

SQUERREY'S

 Just across the county border, barely into Kent, is Westerham. Just east of Westerham - and technically still in it - is the Squerrey Estate. This estate has both a winery and a brewery on site, as well as a deli, a restaurant, a bar and a cafe. One might say it’s well-equipped. 

Paved parking!

It’s off Beggar’s Lane (A233), which as an A-road,  is pretty wide and smooth, and the access is paved. The parking is largely gravel but - and this is an important but - there is a paved section, on which, if you are lucky, there will be space to park. 

My timing was off - I was too late for tasting plates at the deli or continental breakfast at the cafe and I was too early for lunch at the restaurant. The menu looks good for omnivores and carnivores. 

The coffee I did have at the cafe wasn’t the best, but the grounds are lovely on a clear summer’s day, and coffee by itself is not a dealbreaker.

I went back at actual lunchtime, but the restaurant was - it eventually admitted - not taking walk-ins. Luckily the winery shares its grounds with the Westerham Brewery, which has a friendly taproom and a rotating cast of food trucks, so I had lunch there instead.

BOLNEY

 Bolney is off the A272 to the east of the A24. It’s not particularly well signposted in spring and summer, because the leafy trees and hedges tend to obscure the sign - which is right on top of the turn up Foxhole Lane. This is an appropriate name - it’s tiny and not particularly well-maintained. And also hilly.

Like Kinsbrook, one must negotiate a gravel driveway and parking, which is about hte same quality as Kinsbrook’s - not terrible as these things go.  Bolney also has a shop/deli attached to its cafe, but the emphasis there is more on cafe than shop, which is the reverse of Kinsbrook. 

Bolney does a much better breakfast, and has a more varied menu than Kinsbrook. The coffee is excellent, the food is great, and while the service can be slow when they’re busy, the lovely view encourages relaxed lingering.

View from the cafe

Breakfast

Not the worst gravel, as gravel goes

KINSBROOK

 

At Kinsbrook, they appreciate a bike

I started with Kinsbrook. It’s off the A272m to the west of where it crosses the A24. When I say off the A272, I mean by a B road or two - which are in good repair and quite fun to ride on a fine spring day. Not overly twisty, but highly hedged, which adds to the jeopardy. 

Kinsbrook is pretty well signposted, up until you get to the entrance, which is less well marked. Also, gravel. Gravel and two wheeled vehicles do not get along, especially when said vehicles have tyres designed for road use. However, it’s not the worst gravelly road I’ve had to ride. 

They have a deli and shop on the ground floor and a cafe above, overlooking the vines. I had an excellent coffee and a reasonable pastry, and got compliments from the staff on the bike, which is always a good way to get me to return. 

I recommend.

View from the cafe

WINE ROUTES

 England, especially in the south, has a lot of vineyards. Vineyards are pretty and usually out in the countryside, down reasonably good and scenic roads, and a lot of them have some species of cafe or shop on site, as clearly wine alone isn’t going to pay all the bills. Part of this could be because there is a very old and inexplicable extra tax on wines produced and bottled in the UK, which makes them more expensive than those from regions abroad. This seems, from a Buy Local perspective, singularly self-defeating.

This summer, I will be visiting a selection of these vineyards - not that I can drink the wine when riding. So I shall have to judge them on other essential criteria - parking, access, coffee.

HOG IN MUCK

 During my Schengen sojourn, the bike was happy as a hog in muck - and, of course, got muddy to the headlight. I did what limited cleaning I could on the run (including debugging the headlight and indicators on a daily basis) but there are limits to what can be accomplished on the road. 

Before

A thorough cleaning was high on the list when I got back, if only to get the rest of the bug guts out of the working parts. Bikes tend to have rather exposed engines, after all. 

It took some time, and quite a lot of scrubbing and polish - but I have debugged the bike and also managed to get most of the rust off the kickstand. 

Of course, it’s now spring. So as soon as you ride 5 miles, you once again have to clean the bug guts off the headlight, the forks and the back of the mirrors. The cleaning of a bike is never finished. 

This is annoying, but a relatively small price to pay for riding in no more layers than jeans and a jacket. 

After

AT THE VINEYARD

 

AUSTRIA

Germany likes to build bridges. It’s very proud of its bridges, and likes to tell you the name, length and height of the bridge before you cross it. Austria, on the other hand, has more mountains per square kilometre than its larger neighbour, and prefers to build tunnels. Of which it’s very proud, and likes to tell you the name and length of the tunnel before you enter it. 

I crossed into Austria on Day Three, after a slightly troublesome start with a strap on my bag breaking off completely, which caused a rethink about attaching my luggage and subsequent resumption of paranoia about the subject. 

I had sorted my digital vignette in good time, at least. The advantage of a digital vignette is that it no longer matters that I have no screen or similar location in which to stick one. 

However, I made it to southern Styria in one piece, all straps still strapped and all luggage still tightly attached. Weingut Tauss, where I was staying for a few days, was absolutely lovely, and welcomed me with a much appreciated glass of wine in the garden. 

After a couple of days there, I headed up to Salzburg, where a prevalence of roadworks and detours meant I arrived at my hotel later than planned and rather disorientated. Salzburg is a beautiful stop to make and a bike friendly place - roadworks notwithstanding. 

AUTOBAHNS AND OTHER ROADS

On Day Two, I crossed over into Germany. I like the autobahn system, with its wide, smooth lanes and regular services and rest areas, and general rapidity. I wasn’t going all that fast, of course because a) I don’t have a screen and b) I was wearing an open-face helmet, which the wind (see point a) kept trying to remove. 

I tightened the strap at every other petrol stop, which helped a lot, but I would still have been better off with more between my eyeballs and the wind. I also cleaned my visor every stop - the European insect population is extremely healthy, if somewhat suicidal. 

I like riding through Germany. For a start, most Schengen countries are more bike-friendly than the UK (not much of an achievement, but still). Secondly, Germany has very nice A and B roads. Not as fast as the Autobahns, but well maintained and reasonably quick and well sign-posted (assuming you know the names and relative positions of the villages). They’re not great for signposting petrol stations, but you can’t have everything and that’s what smartphone mapping apps are for. 

FLANDERS FIELDS

 I can’t ride through northern France or Belgium without thinking of Roger McGough’s war poem about “In Flanders fields in northern France, they’re all doing a brand new dance.”

Of course, on arrival in France, I couldn’t ride at all. I stopped for petrol, and clearly picked the wrong pump at the wrong time, because the bike ceased to speak to the key fob and refused to start. When I tried to roll it out of the way, it yelled at me loudly. 

Once I had tried repeatedly to start it, called the dealer for the override code and managed to move it away from whatever was blocking the signal, it did start up quite nicely. The only conclusion is that it is not the keyfob battery, but an active cell tower. 

Problem One, solved. 

Problem Two was a Porsche trying to ride pillion and flashing his lights at me. I pulled over, largely to get out of his way, and realised he’d been trying to tell me my bag was slipping badly. The vibrations on the train had jiggled things a bit loose. So, there at the side of the A16, I reorganised and re-strapped everything and ceased to think nasty thoughts about entitled sports car drivers. This was the point at which I realised I hadn’t packed any hi-vis, or a few other heavily recommended bits for travel in Europe. This incident induced some paranoia about my luggage for the rest of the day. 

LE SHUTTLE

 This is now, post-Brexit, even more an exercise in French love of bureaucracy meeting British tendencies to get tangled in red tape. The doubling up of Border Controls at both ends being a case in point - there are many gates at the French line for EU/EEA/CH passports and only one for All Other Passports - which now includes the UK. The UK line reverses this, which doesn’t help because you can’t move between queues in between the two sets of gates. 

It’s all very stop-start - not good for a bike engine or battery. Just FYI. 

Also, the terminals leave a LOT to be desired. They could afford to be more airport-esque, in terms of facilities. 

However, once checked in, checked through all passports gates with accompanying removal and replacement of buff, glasses, helmet etc (it’s an open face helmet, people, which shows my whole face, so seriously, what, other than a jobs-worth power trip, is the point in holding up the whole queue by making me take it off and put it back on again?)

They always put all the bikes together on the train (and try to tell you how far over your bike leans. Somehow I think bikers know their bikes better than random rail workers), so you do at least get to chat and swap route tips. And returning from Calais to Folkestone has the added kick of arriving before you leave. 

BREXIT

 I recently went for a road trip around several Schengen countries. The last time I did this was on a previous bike and as an EU citizen. So you might reasonably say it’s been a while. 

Initially, my bike had a solo seat, which had to be changed before I could anywhere that involved luggage. One needs to attach it to the bike somehow, after all. 

Also, I don’t have a screen on my current bike. And then Covid happened, and nobody was going anywhere for some years. 

This trip began with the question of where in Europe to go, then how to get there and how many days would that reasonably require. There is a lot of logistical and administrative bumpf to consider when doing these things, some of which I’d completely forgotten about and some of which is New Since Brexit. 

Then the question of pre-booking accommodation or simply taking my chances in the evenings - I’ve heard both schools of thought and usually come down on the chancing it side. This time, I pre-booked, in order not to need a satnav or have to install comms in my helmet. 

When the day dawned, I strapped my bag onto the bike and headed for the Eurotunnel. 

HAND IN GLOVE

Back when the weather was overly wintry - even for winter - I finally did something I’ve been toying with for years, and bought a pair of heated gloves - the kind with the battery pack in the cuff. 

By the time they arrived, the cold snap that inspired them had passed, of course, and then the bike’s battery died so I didn’t get to trial them in truly winter temperatures. I did manage to do a short test on a bicycle at 4am, and they worked there - but that’s a maximum speed of 20 mph. Luckily wind chill is wind chill, and while the air is starting to acquire the softness of spring, it’s still only February. 

I finally managed to try them out on a nice Sunday morning - clear skies, cool air, 60 mph wind chill on the bars.

The heating is relatively efficient, but the gloves have my usual problem - if they fit my palms, the fingers are too long, which might make them too impractical for regular use on the bike, which would be a pity. Unless, that is, I can find a way to shorten the fingers without messing up the wiring.