Language Warning

The trouble with Europe is that you arrive in France, and all the road signs are in French. Then jsut as you get used to that, you enter Belgium, and all the signs alternate between Flemish and French. Which becomes problematic when it comes to mapping, because you have to know that Luik is Flemish for Liege, or else you get lost and miss the turn-off and wind up heading into Brussels itself, which is not what you wanted to do. 

Having your friend with the satnav leading and talking to you in English also does not help, because the satnav isn't used to EU speed limits yet and is about 200 yards (not used to metric yet either) behind the times and having English in your ear is not assisting your nascent language skills either. Especially when you can see the turn off, but your friend is already heading off in the wrong lane, and you, being a good friend, can't just abandon her to her fate. 

The next adventure

Life Before Coffee

For this trip, I had to keep my days off work to a minimum, so I worked a full day before I left, and as usual, had booked an early train to Calais (you lose an hour, so it helps to leave early). It's well known that I am not most accurately described as alive before I've had my coffee in the morning. However, there is one thing that works as well as caffeine for me, and that's sunshine on chrome. Despite to excitement that disturbed my sleep, I rolled out of bed and out of the door with minimal stumbling into the furniture. 

I yawned, blinked a few times, yawned some more and got down to Folkestone on a bubble of adrenalin, having allowed far more time than necessary for traffic. Note to self - there is no traffic at 4am, even in London. So I had time for coffee and breakfast at the terminal, after which I felt more human, but still overly excitable. 

Eco-bike? Is this carbon-neutral?

Homing Instinct

I do not have a satnav. I don’t generally carry a map book in South East England. Or chunks of the South West, for that matter. I can place Wisborough Green on a map, but not the Cricketers Arms. However, I get bored with the endless debate about leaving and leading and are we going to another pub, so I tend to leave. Follow me who will.

Really, folks, it’s not that heard. The A272 runs across SE England to Brighton and Lewes, and we know (or we should) that Wisborough Green and the South Downs are west of that.

So you head east, right? And in the UK, the sun is south of you. So if the sun is on your right, you’re facing east. No?

And sooner or later you meet a road sign with something recognisable and familiar on it: London, Dorking, A29, A24, Horsham, Beare Green, M25, Gatwick… London is signposted from absolutely everywhere, after all. And then it’s easy; you’re home and dry.

At least until the rain starts up again. 

Just Not Cricket

In the UK, there are various signs of the changing seasons which are a more reliable indicator of the year’s progress than the weather. You know summer’s here when pubs advertise beer gardens and barbeques, and people in white attempt to play cricket – with varying degrees of success – on village greens and commons up and down the country – all despite dismal skies, glowering clouds and days of constant rain. For me, the definitive sign is that the Chapter Runs begin. In early June, I had a working bike and relatively free weekend, so I went along.

The weather forecast was right for once, and the day dawned dry and clear, which automatically meant the number of participating bikes tripled. This is why we don’t pre-warn the final pub about numbers for lunch until the pre-ride briefing.

We meandered – all 43 of us – out of London and down through Surrey and over the South Downs, wending our way past several greens and commons dotted with cricketers and weekend footballers (well, it is the World Cup).  They tend to look skyward, confused, when they hear a rolling thunder approach.

We ended up at The Cricketers Arms in Wisborough Green, where we took over the pub and completely wrecked the locals’ plans for a quiet lunch.