I'd never done any motorbike touring before so I've hopefully made most of the worst mistakes on this, my first ever trip. I'd made my first mistake before leaving home - I decided to wear my full leathers and leave my ever-so sensible Goretex two-piece behind. So there I was sweating buckets just loading the bike up on the hottest day of the year so far. The first part of the journey was round the M25 and down the M3 to Andover. Lots of filtering practice around Heathrow - I wonder how many people missed their flights that day stuck in a sweltering tailback?
Andover is a mixture of the stunningly dull with a smidgin of olde worlde charm in the tiny centre. I found a really good sandwich bar up London Street with one hour's free parking on the road. Once fed and watered, off to find the first of the reasons for my holiday - a landmark on the annual Round Britain Rally event. This is a competition where you collact as many landmarks from a list as you can. You get points for each one for which you submit a photograph of your bike at the location along with the provided control card by the closing date of 31st October. There are different levels of awards, from Finishers (approximately 10 locations) to Platinum (most of the 83 locations all over mainland Britain). At Andover, I had to go up a now disused road to find a 19th century iron bridge. Turning around afterwards was a challenge! Onwards to Dorset via the A343/A30 into Salisbury then down to Blandford Forum on the deserted A354. I found the old wayside cross up a tiny country lane! Off then to just south of Yeovil for three of the Barwick Follies. I went up here, down there, in and out and along some really hairy lanes. Eventually I found all three but two of the pictures haven't come out! By now it was seven o'clock and my B&B near Tiverton, Devon, was still 50 miles away! Thankfully the roads were lovely: the sublime A30 to Honiton then A373 to Cullompton and just up the road to Weir Mill Farm, Willand. I've stayed there before and Rita Parish made me very welcome as usual.
Over the next two days I did some intensive training with an excellent advanced instructor, Kev Snow. Unfortunately, after being roasted alive on the first day, I got wet in the leathers with the intermittent showers. At least we successfully found the two Devon landmarks, again via tiny windy country lanes and tight U-turns. Day four I packed my panniers and headed into Cornwall. I find it amazing how quickly the landscape becomes wild and rugged after crossing the county border at the River Tamar. This day was also a swelterer and I arrived in Padstow for lunch via the fast-but-boring A351 to Barnstaple then the very twisty A39 coast road. Great opportunity to practice those lines and overtakes! Padstow was a small fishing village crammed full of flip-flop wearing holidaymakers eating ice creams and looking for something to eat. I finally found the only place offering a sit down light lunch, decent coffee and a toilet after much traipsing around. The nearby landmark is a memorial plaque to the poet Lawrence Binyon on the Pentire Cliffs. I rode as far as the car park (up a very steep track) and then walked at least a mile in the blazing sun to the cliff edge. No sign of the plaque so I walked all around the headland, taking a few photos as proof. Serious walkers gave me many funny looks, coming across a full-leather motorcyclist with helmet walking the Cornish coast path. After an exhausting hour here it was five o'clock and the Blue Anchor B&B in Helston, near Penzance, was still 60 long miles away. Luckily by that time the roads were clear.
The next day, which only needed a short ride out to an ancient settlement west of Penzance, was the wettest yet. I got caught in a sudden shower in the morning which had passed once I'd got the waterproofs on. I then spent the rest of the day wandering around Penzance in the glorous sunshine. However, walking back to the bike at five o'clock, the heavens opened with the full might of an Atlantic storm. Lesson two: the weather here changes in minutes. So, thinking that I was already wet enough, I decided to ride back to Helston without putting on my waterproofs. Oh dear. I got absolutely soaked to the skin! That horrible feeling of sodden gloves, rain running into your boots and sitting in a puddle of water, yuk! Luckily I was able to use the radiators at the B&B to dry my stuff out overnight ready for my 300 mile trip home the following day. This was a very long day for me even with a two-hour sojourn at my in-laws in Bristol. My one saving grace was that I'd paid close attention to the weather forecast so wore my waterproofs and put the rain covers on the panniers. The map in my tank map holder still got soaked, though, as I rode through 150 miles of torrential rain, flooding and thunderstorms. I finally got home at nine o'clock in the evening, very tired and stiff with 1000 miles under my belt. The Oxford throw-over panniers worked well but I'll use bungees to hold the storm covers down in future. I'll also leave the leathers for ride-outs and use the exceedingly sensible Goretex two-piece for touring!
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