Lowestoft

Up with the lark today.  Well, I think it was a pigeon that woke me.  I can now reveal that I camped in a recently mown hay field just outside Southwold.   Rather a sticky night due to lack of a shower, or in fact any facilities at all.  This morning it's misty here so I packed a wet tent and was on the road by 6.30.

The field also didn't serve breakfast, but luckily I found a McDonald's open at 7am in Lowestoft, serving porridge, bacon butties and tea.  Perfect.  I also used a hot air hand dryer to dry my face for the first time ever.

Norfolk is nearby but nobody here seems to know exactly where. I expect I'll bump into it soon.

The adventure grows

Lovely cycling in Suffolk today: deserted lanes with views of sun-drenched fields.  I had to take three ferries of dimishing size and accessibility - the last one involved a very sandy track which was tricky to ride on.  Combined lunch and tea watching the boats on Orford Quay, which I highly recommend.  Then an unexpected bridleway led through beautiful heathland and woods.

I reached Southwold at about 7pm knowing there was a camp site. What could possibly go wrong?   Sadly everything was full so I'm camping in a secret location, hoping I won't be discovered and moved on in the middle of the night.

Harwich

Note to self: Brains beer can cause headaches.  I already knew this but temporarily forgot.   A full English breakfast including porridge cured all before a nice ride to Harwich where there's a ferry to Felixstowe and Suffolk.  Coming into Harwich on the seaside path I saw the surreal sight of a grand piano, still playable,  on the beach.

Predictably I arrived just as it had departed, so I had time foe elevenses and sightseeing, including watching two young girls catch a huge crab from the pier.  It was too big for the bucket and kept climbing out, to squeals of delight and fright in equal measure.

To the sea!

Woke up to cloud and a bit of drizzle today but it soon cleared.  A short day, as the ferry didn't start till 10.  The ferryman used to work in Chiswick, as I did, and his brother used to own the Applegarth Hotel in Sidford, so we had a lot to talk about on the short crossing.  He recommended an excellent café in Burnham on Crouch for breakfast and elevenses combined.  I went the long way to Manston, enjoying the empty roads and villages which aren't on the way to anywhere else.

Manston is a lovely town with many tempting charity shops but I bravely ignored these and went straight to lunch on the waterside, where several wherries were moored.  Got talking to two older gents who had known each other since they shared an air raid shelter!  It was tempting to linger longer (see what I did there?) but I hit the road for Colchester, which is quite hilly but I still liked it. It seems to be inhabited mainly by students and painted giraffes.

After a short break for tea and cake it was time to head for Clacton, unfortunately with a lot of other traffic.  Clacton was my first contact with the real sea, and it's a proper seaside resort with a pier, funfair, seafront Wetherspoons pub and souvenir shops.  Plus a great cycle path along the shore, which extends about 6 miles along the sea wall towards Frinton.  At intervals there were slopes down to a lower path below the sea wall but the view wasn't as good, so I stayed on top until confronted by a 'no cycling' sign requiring me to go to the lower path - by steps.  No slope in sight.  I guess this is where Clacton ends and Frinton begins.

Frinton seemed upper-crustily understated, so much so that you could miss it.  No pier, shops, or hotels that I noticed. Just nice houses set back from the sea by a grassy strip and NO cycle path.  The roads were called Oxford Road, Eton Road, Winchester Road.

Moving on, I carried on to Walton-on-the-Naze, my destination for the night. Here my approach of not booking anything nearly came unstuck.  None of my 'find accommodation' websites would work: maybe the mobile signal doesn't reach this far East.  I tried a local pub for wi-fi but no luck: the barman said the butcher was delivering some tomorrow, to the amusement of everyone but me.

I eventually found a B&B so don't worry, dear reader.  Went back to the aforementioned pub and had a great pint of Brains' 'le Peloton' - well I had to - and a superb tuna steak.  I'd recommend The Victory if you're ever here.  I'm just trying a second pint to assure the consistency.  So far it's acdths buiofra htdg.

The only way is -Essex

As soon as I escaped from the M25, countryside and proper villages started to appear. I had a completely unnecessary tour of Canvey Island, which was quiet, sunny and isolated from the Thames by a huge 15 foot sea wall.  Next came the Southend conglomeration, in complete contrast busy and open to the river. 

First Leigh-on-sea, up market and buzzing with café culture, then Westcliff and Southend, with its ridiculously long pier. Saw the Kursaal theatre, presumably the home of the Kursaal Flyers.  While sampling an ice cream on the prom., I realised I had a chance to catch the ferry to Burnham-on-Crouch before 5pm.  A furious cycle round the back roads ensued, but I arrived a couple of minutes too late, so I'm camping on the other side of the Crouch.

And they're off!

I'm safely through London having just cycled across the M25.  Had my first sight of the river at Putney bridge; into the Congestion charging zone - ha! Hordes of other cyclists around.  Then past IBM South Bank where I used to work - ha!! before crossing Tower Bridge, the official start point.  The East of London was traversed on Cycle Superhighway 3 which follows the busy A13 so I'm pleased that's over.

Under starters orders...

There's a limit to how much you can write on a travel blog, before you start to travel.  I will try to write something on the blog every day, if I can connect.  I'm all packed and looking forward to it enormously - the weather looks set fair, even if the wind is going to be against me.  I have not dared weigh my panniers...