And, in addition to this inconvenience, there are flies. Until the cyclist can steer with one hand, his face is given over to Beelzebub. Contemplative flies stroll over it, and trifle absently with its most sensitive surfaces. The only way to dislodge them is to shake the head forcibly and to writhe one's features violently.
- Uit: The Wheels of Chance: A Bicycling Idyll by H.C. Wells
Insects that have a shell taste the freshest. This has now been proven by trial and error, with the emphasis on trial. Slightly less gross, but still nasty, are insects with fat bodies, though I can’t name any tasty insects. Then again, insects that buzz are annoying when they get in your ear. ‘Annoying, isn't it?’ said Remy. ‘They whisper all kinds of things in your ear, but you don't understand a thing. If you descend a lot, you catch a lot of flies. And descending we do a lot. Just as much as going up. And if you go up, you sweat more, which in turn attracts flies. Cornwall is lucky to have two mobile fly traps.
By the way, we reached Land's End yesterday. But that aside...
Yes, as an aside! Land's End turns out to be a terrible tourist trap. ‘Yes, what did you expect?’, I hear you ask. Well, hey, a tourist trap, but this awful shopping and entertainment centre, in such a beautiful place with stunning views, was a huge deception. We had purposely taken it easy the last few days to arrive on Monday to avoid the crowds on Saturday or Sunday. Indeed, the crowds were not so bad now, but there was still a queue in front of the famous pole where you could have your picture taken for £10.99. We didn't go for that.
The pole I am talking about, marks the starting point of a well-known long-distance route, mainly undertaken by bicycle: from Land's End to John o'Groats in the north of Scotland. The distance of this trip is about 874 miles (1400 km). That's from the south-west of England to the northernmost point in Scotland.
Photos: Land's End with the first and last house, the first and last inn and two cyclists making their last anyway.
A little further north is Cape Cornwall, which in the early 19th century was assumed to be the westernmost point of Cornwall. Here it was wonderfully quiet and, with a beautiful view of Land's End in the distance, we ate our lunch.
Cape Cornwall:
View of Land's End from Cape Cornwall. The photo is disappointing, it was much more visible in real life.
We just spent two days in Penzance. From here, we made a round trip to Land's End and Cape Cornwall. The end point of the route has been reached. The last few days have been very tough, but also very beautiful. Besides, we have been extremely lucky with the weather.
Along the way, I got an app from the route maker, Eric van der Horst. Whether we wanted to check out a stretch where they were working on the road. Of course we wanted to. So we took photos, collected coordinates and sent a report to Eric. Still a bit of work! But how nice it is when someone can check on the spot when you're not around yourself, I know the feeling very well!
Now we still have five days left. AND we have some train stress.
We actually wanted to cycle back a bit along the south coast as well, and although we can travel back by train in one day, we are taking the safe route. We had understood that it would be rather complicated to buy not only tickets, but also the travelling itself. Part 1 worked out, we got the tickets. Ordered online the day before yesterday and collected from the station in Penzance yesterday (they don't do e-tickets). It was not as complicated as expected. Part 2 has now also succeeded. We are now, as we write, on the train, where I am writing this newsletter. On our way to London!
There we have booked an AirBnB and will spend a few more days cycling around London.
On Friday, we will take the train to Harwich. That's a day early, but if we were to go on Saturday, we would have to change trains three times and Friday we can go straight to Manningtree, close to Harwich. At least it gives us peace of mind. The trains seem quite unpredictable. Lots of cancellations, delays and strikes. So then just a day early and stroll along Harwich's promenade.
Photos: Remy first tries if it is slippery. ‘I'm going to try it,’ he says. He takes a run-up and cycles through the water, which is about 20 cm deep. ‘If you cycle straight and don't steer, you can do it. I find it terrifying, but take a run-up and do the same as Remy. Successful. Didn't fall and stayed dry. On the other side, I see a small bridge. ‘Bloody hell, we could have crossed that!’. In the photo, you can see Remy laughing. He already had seen the little bridge before the crossing…
Very special: we arrived at the north coast, off Hayle where it turned out to be very foggy...
... and less than an hour later we had crossed Cornwall and were on the south coast, at Marazion. And here the sun was shining again.
Excerpt from: The Wheels of Chance: A Bicycling Idyll by H.C. Wells:
“A most charming day, sir,” he said, in a ringing tenor.
“Charming,” said Mr. Hoopdriver, over a portion of pie.
“You are, I perceive, cycling through this delightful country,” said the clergyman.
“Touring,” explained Mr. Hoopdriver. “I can imagine that, with a properly oiled machine, there can be no easier nor pleasanter way of seeing the country.”
“No,” said Mr. Hoopdriver; “it isn’t half a bad way of getting about.”
“For a young and newly married couple, a tandem bicycle must be, I should imagine, a delightful bond.”
“Quite so,” said Mr. Hoopdriver, reddening a little.
“Do you ride a tandem?”
“No—we’re separate,” said Mr. Hoopdriver.
[…]
“I myself am a cyclist,” said the clergyman, descending suddenly upon Mr. Hoopdriver.
“Indeed!” said Mr. Hoopdriver, attacking the moustache. “What machine, may I ask?”
“I have recently become possessed of a tricycle. A bicycle is, I regret to say, considered too—how shall I put it?—flippant by my parishioners. So I have a tricycle.
Other pictures (click or tap to enlarge):
Tintagel, where I wrote the previous newsletter. In the evening, we wanted to visit King Arthur, but he was not there (any more):
