Midlands to Scottish Border

Our morning started with a long chat to some locals who gave us some anti-midge spray for Scotland.

Then we crossed in and out of Wales and England before arriving at Woore http://www.northshropshire.co.uk/woore/ where we dried out the very wet tent outside the church. The vicar (Donald) turned up to lock up the church and was quite happy. He told us a little about the church and then left us to our own devices. We got some very patchy coverage and found a camp ground for the night. We

tried phoning them but we got no reply. On the way out of the village we stopped to buy some eggs and they confirmed that there was a campground there.

But alas, when we got there, it was a caravan only campground with no reception or office. So out came the dongle again but this time we had no coverage. The only thing we could do was continue on until we found something. At a very large roundabout we were told of a hotel just up the road. 1 hour later we were on the edge of Stoke-on-Trent. http://www.visitstoke.co.uk/ As we sat on the ground checking the internet a kind lady asked if we were OK and gave us directions to the nearby Travelodge.

It turned out way more expensive than budgeted but at 8 pm at night we had no choice. Bizarrely we saved 8 pounds by booking over the phone. The receptionist dialled the booking office and gave us the phone. We booked. We saved 8 pounds. We handed the phone back and checked in and the process continued as normal. The hotel was very pleasant and Sally took the chance to have a nice bath for a change.

The next morning we wound our way into Stoke, only to discover that the main centre was elsewhere. Stoke on Trent is a conglomeration of seven villages and Stoke is just a tiny, very run down town centre. We finally packed up our excess baggage and sent it off to London and we will recover it just before we catch the plane.

We parked the bikes outside a second hand shop and started chatting to one of the owners. He was originally from Wales and noticed that we were still flying the Welsh flag even though we were now in England. I had a spare, so I offered him the second one. He was absolutely chuffed and promptly opened his van window and attached it. He came from the small Rhonda valley and his dream was to return there one day, and build an eco friendly house to see out his days. I am sure I saw a tear in his eye.

He offered us a cuppa which we gratefully received and then we parted for the ceramics museum. It was fascinating and free. It covered all aspects of pottery and ceramics over several hundred years and had examples up to the present day. We were lost inside for a good couple of hours before we set off for the Burleigh factory in Burslem. Along the way I got a new sleeping bag at a sports shop.

We found the factory and visited the shop. Everything was very expensive, even the seconds, but we decided we had to bring something back to NZ. We settled on a couple of butter plates because they were small, light , and easily packed. We also chatted to an ex-pat kiwi who was there buying some replacement plates for her

sister in Christchurch. Clearly the Royal Peacock pattern was popular in NZ 30 years ago.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZM61Y-H-4p0

While there we watched a video on the production process. Absolutely incredible. Every dish is hand made ( some machines involved) . Each pattern is hand stencilled, and the glaze is added over the top giving a very long lasting finish. The Royal Peacock pattern is one of their oldest patterns and they still use the hand carved old rollers for the stencils. I have often remarked how good our dinner set at home looks even after 30 years. Now I know why. And eating dinner off those plates will never be the same. I will always have visions of someone hand crafting them.

Then we pushed on to Congleton for the night staying with our hosts

Stephen and Anne. Stephen had forgotten he had a time trial that night so just as we arrived he was leaving. His wife was in France at their holiday home, so he gave us quick instructions and we sat down to a wonderful meal which commenced with a French style Apero and finished with fresh fruit and ice cream. When Stephen came home we chatted away until bed time.

The next morning he made a rather critical adjustment to Sally’s headstock which had threatened to seize up. We parted with the left overs of last night’s meal for lunch and headed off to Macclesfield http://www.visitmacclesfield.co.uk/ http://www.macclesfieldcanal.org.uk/ to catch up with a former work colleague, for a coffee at Sainsbury's before he left for an afternoon appointment in Stoke. 10 years ago, Peter and I worked together for about six months on a computer project which was controlled by England, but installed in New Zealand. I never once

met him, it was all conducted by telephone and email. We developed a good working relationship and I promised myself that if I ever got to England I would look him up and say hello. He sings in a group every Tuesday night at a local pub and has been getting professional lessons to improve himself.
Another one ticked off my bucket list.

We went in to the centre of town where there was a busker playing and I was so impresses that I went back a second time and put money in his hat. He said “What you need is a bit of sunshine” (it was raining) and then launched into a rendition of “Here comes the sun” by the Beatles. I just loved it.

We followed a former railway line out of town and stopped for lunch at a picnic ground before lugging the bikes up a steep path to access the road to our campground for the night in the Peak District. The

hills were long and hard but we eventually made camp at Chapel en le Frith (capital of the high Peak) http://www.visitpeakdistrict.com/High-Peak-Chapel-en-le-Frith/details/?dms=3&venue=6060505 where we put up the tent and I unpacked my new sleeping bag.

No I did not.
It had fallen off the back of the bike somewhere along the way and I had never once used it. I decided that as it was wrapped in a rubbish sack to keep it dry no-one would realise what it was and I could just find it. So at 6:30 pm I set off back to our lunch stop to look for it. Gee it is way easier riding if the bike is not loaded. I made exceptional

time back to the picnic area but never found it.

While there a young lad asked if he could borrow an Allen key. I did one better. I had found a 5 mm Allen key several days ago and I wanted to give it a new home. He was wrapped as he could now tighten his pedals and continue on his way. The return trip over the hills was much slower and just before 10 pm I rolled into the edge of town.

And there it was . My bag had rolled under a hedge and I had missed it on the trip out. Joyously I picked it up and headed back to camp where I hoped to sleep rather well after my first 100 km day in many a long year. The campground was 30 m from a railway line so all through the night we were awoken by noisy trains. And just for good measure it was on the flight path for Manchester Airport so plenty of jet noise as well.

The next morning I gave away the old bag and we set off along the Peak Forest Canal. https://canalrivertrust.org.uk/enjoy-the-waterways/canal-and-river-network/peak-forest-canal We met a wonderful English couple on a tandem and we drank a cuppa alongside the canal for about an hour , exchanging tales and generally enjoying life. We swapped email addresses and started off again. The path eventually became very rough then passed a flight of locks ( 16 in all) before it entered a tunnel where we had to lug our bikes up a very steep path to get to a gravel road which lead into the town of Romiley where we stopped for lunch.

We got back on our bikes and headed for our campground at Greenfield. We got lost ( we had unknowingly missed a turn and did not know we were on different road.) Sally went ahead and just as I

arrived she arrived as well after having taken a huge detour. The camp ground was much quieter than the night before. We decided to treat ourselves to a pub dinner but all we could get was cold Cornish pasties. We convinced them to heat them in a microwave and it was OK. We spent an hour and a half drinking two pints while the computer recharged.

The next day our route took us over a large hill and into the town of Rochdale , Todmorden and then onto Burnley, http://www.burnleyfootballclub.com/( home of the recently promoted Burnley Football Club,) Nelson, and to our campground for the night at Newby. Unfortunately it was caravans only. So onto the next one – caravans only. The next one full up, the next one no answer, the next 2 were caravans only, an expensive pub, and we just kept going until we found one at Long Preston. http://www.longpreston.info/ It was wonderful. The manager

allowed us set up a tent for the night and we paid in the morning. The facilities were first class and they even had under floor heating in the showers.

We never made our goal the next day as it poured down with rain in the afternoon. At Austwick we had lunch sitting on a seat in the middle of nowhere which had been placed there by the woman's institute in the 1990s. At the tourist office in Ingleton http://www.ingleton.co.uk/ we asked about camping and found a new camp ground on the edge of town called Meadow Falls. http://www.meadowfalls.co.uk/ For the second day in a row it was fantastic, and we managed to get the tent up just before it started raining. We demolished a very nice bottle of Chilean wine and went off to bed well pleased with ourselves.

The next morning we chatted with a kind lady (Wendy) who rides 30

–50 kms every morning before work and had recently completed a 160 km ride up to Penrith from her home near Burnley. We exchanged Facebook details and she took a photo of us which she later posted on Facebook.
One thing we have noticed is that the people we meet in Northern England are generally more friendly than down South. The same thing applies in France. I think it is a population density thing.

Our target for Sunday was Penrith. The route we followed was very quiet with no shops. The Yorkshire Dales http://www.yorkshiredales.org.uk/ were on our right and the paddocks were partitioned with stone walls. The effect was magical. The Dales are a beautiful part of England.
We eventually joined the A6 at Shap after a big hill climb. Along the way we chatted to a couple of guys from Manchester who were late

for their train. They were very friendly. We had to stop at Lowther and drink a beer or two in order to recharge the computer and find the address of our campsite for the night. We turned up in the pouring rain but luckily they had a barn where we could assemble the tent in the dry and then carried the tent to the pitch for the night before affixing it in place with the pegs. A jolly clever bit of ingenuity. I rode into Penrith and found a kebab shop so we ate well even though it was raining.

When we broke camp it was still raining so we just rolled everything up and hit the road. We stopped for breakfast at Penrith and followed the A6 to Carlisle http://www.discovercarlisle.co.uk/ The A6 was very quiet due to all the cars being on the M6 motorway. At a former service centre at High Heskit we stopped for a coffee. There we met EWOK a very unusual dog that belonged to the neighbouring shop https://www.facebook.com/cumbriacuriosityshop/?pnref=story.

Very photogenic too.

Our target was Scotland, but as it was still raining we decided on a small campground just south of the border. They were full so we continued on. Once again we got the tent up at Catlowdy, just as the rain reappeared.

The owner had suffered a major fire a few months before and lost his complete antique car collection along with a new gymnasium for the campers to use. He was slightly aggrieved that when the fire brigade arrived they refused to use water from his swimming pool to fight the fire on the basis of health and safety. In New Zealand it is compulsory to register your rural swimming pools so they can use it to fight fires. After and hour and a half a water tanker turned up and they extinguished the fire but it was all gone by then.

He also owned a bunch of small buses for hire and had several contracts to provide school bus services. Again the stupidity of bureaucracy showed through. His 5 year grand daughter could catch the school bus but his 3 year old grand daughter who attended the same school could not as she was too young to be “funded”. So every morning he followed the school bus which his wife drove, in his Landover with his 3 year old even though there were a few spare seats on the bus. What a waste of petrol.

As we were leaving he gave us 4 cream doughnuts as he had ordered too many on the internet. Apparently he does this a lot!

Scotland awaited us just across the river.