SALAD DAYS

 Recently, I had occasion to brave the A303 past Stonehenge. As anyone who has ever taken that road knows, there are always queues. I believe 3am is clear most mornings, but that’s just a rumour at best. The road narrows to one lane as it passes the henge, and this is a major road heading southwest from London. Of course it narrows - Stonehenge and the surrounding landscape is a UNESCO site, after all. Most drivers seem to have had it explained to them that almost all  bikes are air-cooled, so they will generally get out of your way if they can, at least. However, this traffic meant that once past that, around about the A36 junction, I was getting fairly hungry. I turned south, and headed for Rainbow on the Lake, in Steeple Langford, which had come up on google maps and intrigued me. 

It has reasonable parking - half paved, half gravel but on what’s best called an interesting camber. I parked up and headed in. The terrace was closed, but there is also a bit of garden to the side, so I parked myself comfortably in the sun. 

I took a slight risk and ordered salad. You can never be sure what a pub understands by the term ‘salad’. This place gets it right. From what I saw of other patrons’ lunches, this place understands the art of having a limited menu and doing it extremely well. 

I did not try their coffee, as the day was too hot. But I shall visit again, I am sure, now that I’ve found them. 

DOWN THE HATCH

 I like the Wotton Hatch. It has nice (paved) parking behind it, and while it’s on an A-road, with an easy-to-miss and somewhat hazardous turn into the entrance which crosses over another road meeting the A-road, it has made the most of its garden.

There’s a lot of lavender near the road, which smells better than exhausts, and hedges to further reduce the noise. Tables are well-spaced and most have parasols, which is great for anyone as prone to sunburn as I. Plus, it does good coffee and good food and has no objection to bikes. 

Also, I got a macaroon with my coffee. Okay, it’s not my favourite sweet bite with coffee, but small bites with coffee are a practice to be encouraged at every turn. 

PLEASANT PHEASANT

 I wandered out to the Pheasant at Buckland this week, during a gap in the rain. Alas, not a gap in the roadworks which currently haunt the A243, the A24 and the A25. ‘Tis the season. 

The Pheasant has a lovely garden, half of which is comprehensively covered against the possibility (probability?) of rain. They also do a really nice vegan beetroot tartlet, which makes a lovely lunch. Plus they serve flapjackesque bites with coffee. Bonus brownie (flapjack) points to anyone who gives me a little baby sweet treat with my coffee. 

I took a different route home, which involved fewer roadworks but more traffic. Swings and roundabouts, I guess, but the B2032 and the B2033 are fun roads for a biker on a dry summer day.

GARDEN PARTIES

This summer, such as it has been so far, I am checking out pub gardens. This was inspired by the garden at the Mill in Gomshall, which has a beautifully lush, large garden. The current managers serve good food, and have a halloumi sandwich on their weekday menu I had not yet managed to try (because I usually go there on Sundays and have a roast). I can now recommend it unreservedly.

Since the one dry day was a weekday, I took myself along the pleasantly scenic and twisty route (they’ve resurfaced the A24 section near Box Hill, finally! It’s so beautifully smooth at the moment!). I do like the ability to Work From Phone… 

MOTORCYCLES AND THE MET

There are a lot of people who feel that the police are anti-motorcycles. Certainly, the people who make the road rules seem to, sometimes. I've met the occasional police who are against the concept (2 of them, in Ireland, at 3am, after losing my balance on adverse camber, 3 bikes ago). Generally, though, I've found they're are only anti-idiots. As are most experienced bikers.  

The Met Police's motorcyclists run BikeSafe courses, for pity's sake. One of my all time favourite memories on two wheels is of doing this course while I still had L-plates. We were on the A40, near the junction with the A205 at Hanger Lane (major junction, for those who don't know London), and a white van cut me up. Next thing he or I know, the cop observing my ride taps on his window and proceeds to give him hell for not looking properly before attempting a legally dodgy lane change. It was a beautiful moment.

I had another one on my last ride out - just a little local run down to Chessington Garden Centre, which I love for both its café and its designated motorcycle parking right in front of the door. More places could take notes. While I was queuing for my coffee, a uniformed officer in front of me turned around and asked me about my bike. She rides too, and we had a very happy little exchange about our respective Harleys and their customisations until the queue moved us along. 

TIS THE SEASON

 I went to Somerset for the weekend, to get a decent ride in while the weather was less rainy than usual. I had forgotten, of course, that ‘tis the season to do roadworks. Deck the roads with lots of traffic cones and all that. Of course, roadworks come with tailbacks of confused and irritated drivers (who apparently got their licences from a cereal box). At least I can filter. 

Now, it should take no more than 3.5 hours to get from London to Somerset on a bike, even on the A303, even with the congestion around Stonehenge (the sign says queues likely. Queues inevitable, more like). It took 4.25 this time, without stopping. I know, I know,  the M4 would be quicker but it’s BORING. The A-roads route is more fun, especially the A371 through the Mendips where you get scenic little places like Croscombe, which has been around since the eighth century at least. 

LAZY LIKE SUNDAY

One of the lovely things about living at this latitude is the long spring and summer evenings, especially after the clocks change. However, there is the parallel tendency to fill these light hours up with things - fun things, social things, but things nonetheless that result in going to bed very late, waking up correspondingly late and in a the kind of lazy mood in which you do not notice the day slipping away until it is far too late to contemplate anything remotely resembling a decent ride. I’ve had two of those in a row, so I’m sure the bike will have plenty to say about it when I do finally manage a decent distance run.