the Long ride home #2

Photo by Klare - Urban Wolf Photography

Day 2

6am

Up early, I am so happy to be back on the road. Brighton is beautiful without the crowds – it feels strangely like Sydney, Australia. Big metropolitan town, right by the sea, residents up early to exercise, walk, cycle. The ride out of town is glorious and goes some way to banishing my mood on arrival last night.

Today’s ride is about 90km with only 400m elevation. The challenge today is to get to Portsmouth on time for the first of my two ferries to and from the Isle of Wight. Growing up in Lymington I spent so much time on the Island, it feels as much like home as the mainland does. When Komoot suggested cutting across the Island I agreed entirely!

7.25am

Today’s ride starts with a tour of Sussex’s coastal towns. Heading out of Brighton it’s not long before you reach Shoreham (far further East than I remember but I guess it hasn’t moved!). I readily acknowledge my coffee addiction and accept that I won’t feel right until I’ve had a shot. Thankfully I arrive at a lovely independent French coffee shop 5 minutes before it opens. 10 minutes later I’ve inhaled a double espresso and a pain au chocolat – now all I need is a decent loo and I will be feeling human again!

It is amazing how many people are out and about early on a Bank Holiday Monday. As I pedal along I pass chefs on their way to work, parents with their kids, groups of runners and cyclists and bizarrely skate parks full of skateboarders at 8am!

9am

Coming over the footbridge in Littlehampton I smile and call hello to a lady sitting on a bench by the road. Two seconds later I realise it’s my friend Klare who I was expecting to meet on the outskirts of Chichester! She had got up early and decided to come and meet me further along as a surprise!

Photo by Klare - Urban Wolf Photography

Rendered speechless it takes a while for me to get used to cycling with someone else. Klare has borrowed an ebike and kindly tells me to set the pace. Klare is an awesome photographer and apart from the chance to have a catch up she is going to take some pictures along the way. The next couple of hours pass in a blur as we chatter and stop to watch birds of prey – even spotting kites and buzzards together in one field!

I’m grateful for Klare’s company as the route is efficient but dull, mainly following cycle-paths along the dual-carriageways that span the coast. It amazes me how much industrialisation there is close to the shore and I realise quite how small our island truly is.

Photo by Klare - Urban Wolf Photography

12pm

Klare and I part ways near Havant and I head on towards Portsmouth. I am excited at the thought of getting there an hour ahead of schedule. The surprise element of arriving at my parents is that they don’t know ‘how’ I’m getting there. I wanted to do a full on ‘tadahhh, you weren’t expecting to see me, but here I am and I came by bike!’ – but that doesn’t work with families. Who would have CeCe, the dogs, how would I get back etc.  So, I settled on just surprising them with my mode of transport. However, if I could get there earlier, that would really surprise them!

Suddenly I’m not enjoying a saunter round Langstone Harbour, I’m pushing against time trying to get to the port in time for an earlier ferry. As I fret over traffic lights and other cyclists in my way, I question whether I like this self-imposed time pressure. Yet again, it makes me wonder whether I would actually enjoy endurance cycling races. I suspect I wouldn’t, simply because I like the feeling of being free to set my own agenda.

1pm

I arrive at the port just as one ferry is departing. Unable to confirm that I can just get on the next ferry to Fishbourne, I sit down to distract myself with food and wait for the next ferry to arrive. As the ferry comes in I notice that she’s called ‘Victoria of Wight’ – that has to be a sign! Sure enough it is and after a wait while the passengers disembark, I’m welcomed onboard. I can’t remember the last time I took a ferry other than the one from Lymington. This ferry is huge by comparison, more like a cross-channel ferry and it takes me a while to find the cafeteria. After yesterday’s dehydration I’m determined not to make the same mistake again.

2.05pm

Wooohooo! I’m in Fishbourne a whole hour early. As long as nothing goes wrong, I will be able to get the ferry from Yarmouth at least an hour earlier. Whenever I arrive on the Island I feel myself relax and my heart swell. Today is just the same. The streets and towns are so familiar even if I’ve not cycled much on the Eastern end. I’m never far from somewhere I’ve visited by boat or car. I make a slight mistake leaving Fishbourne but soon sort myself out and am on my way.

The Island reminds me of a sleeping dragon with a long, ridge or spine running through the middle. If you ride round the edges you will probably have a fairly flat journey, but I was heading directly up and along the middle. Climbs were going to be short but extremely punchy!

3pm

Amazingly the Island is littered with bridleways and green lanes that you can join together.  Riding along, I think of my parents who have rediscovered a love of cycling over the last two lockdowns. When rules allowed, they’ve come over by ferry with their bikes and headed off for a day’s exploring with picnic. It’s been amazing to see them having adventures when so much else in life has been put on pause.

4pm

Though I’m sad that I’ve not taken time to really enjoy the Island, I’m so happy to arrive in Yarmouth 2hrs ahead of schedule. I had left leeway in the timings to account for mechanicals and have also pedalled my socks off! Now it feels like I’m home. All I have to do is hop on a ferry that I’ve taken more times than I can remember and then pedal through Lymington to my parents.

I am so lucky with the weather and I celebrate this last part of the journey with a cup of tea, bag of crisps and a Twix on the top deck of the ferry. My excitement is bubbling under again as I anticipate my parents’ reaction when I get home.

4.50pm

Cycling home from the ferry terminal, I have to go inland to the river crossing and then retrace my path on the opposite bank of the Lymington River. I pass the only other home I lived in, by the railway station, cut across the bottom of the High Street and am soon on to my parents’ road.

5pm

Two hours ahead of schedule I ring the doorbell and deliver my surprise! My Mum calls me a ‘daft girl’ and my Dad assumes I’ve cycled from my in-laws on the other side of the Forest. I’ve done it! I am so happy, tired, elated. It’s taken two days but this has definitely been my best journey home and I feel so relaxed compared to several hours of driving and motorways.