It has to be said that quite apart from the recumbent’s undoubted power as a chick magnet our luck at being shepherded out from Bristol by Sally was brilliant. She knew the country like the back of her hand, have is a map, and advised on the route beyond the point where we separated.


It turns out that the Red Lion is one of the most common pub names in Britain. We have seen many of them, usually when geographically challenged. I thought we are meant to be in Cirencester. The is a Red Lion in Cricklade, but our one was in Castle Easton.

It was a pretty spot though and we were pretty impressed to see the swanlings.

What Jane didn’t say was that our first day on the bikes turned into a very long 100 km epic. Rather more than I had planned, and not the way one would really want to acclimatize to riding fully laden bicycles.


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