Distance: 30.4 miles

Time: 3:13

Elevation: 1236 feet

The morning was slow but productive, I was intending to try and fix my gears after an ill-fated earlier attempt had left me with two gears, one that was slightly too hard for the hills, and one that was slightly too hard for the flat. Then, turning my bike over to fix the problem, I discovered a loose spoke and buckled back wheel, it couldn’t complete a full revolution, instead jamming up against the brakes. The bike maintenance had just become critical.

I set about it with my usual abandon, not quite remembering what I was doing but steaming ahead anyway. When the buckle in the wheel got steadily worse, I turned to Google, and soon got the hang of it. Wheel back in true, I gave the gears a go, trying to get a little more tension in the cable and refastening the screw. Soon the gears felt pretty good, really good in fact so I pedalled off, much more quietly down the road.

It wasn’t long before I was back on the route and meandering between some fields, crossing back over the M5, then traversing along the side of a hill. Shortly after, the route turned onto the Strawberry Line, an old railway line turned bike path that made for Clevedon on the coast. It started well on a smooth dirt surface, but it wasn’t long before it turned to loose gravel and stones.

Trying to piece together an alternative route on road was tricky and every time I stopped I realised how tired I was feeling. So, when it started raining – as I pedalled along the busy main road I was using to avoid the cycle path – I dove for cover in the Congresbury Arms.

Grabbing what I could off the bike, I headed in out of the rain. Laden with kit, I skidded on the slippy floor in my cycling shoes, the rain had given me the shivers, and sun tan lotion had washed into my eyes. I decided I was in need of a rest; I was still to decide where I’d stay tonight, but both my power banks were dead and my phone battery was down to 40%, so it seemed like a good time to book a hotel.

Considering the onwards route, I decided there wasn’t much point in following it – I knew it was mostly bike paths, which I might just avoid anyway. I also wasn’t too bothered about seeing Clevedon, but I very much wanted to see the Clifton Suspension Bridge, and as the A370 – that I’d just been following – would take me right to it, I decided that that was the plan, and I’d just book a hotel in Bristol while I was at it.

Reaching the bridge, I was stunned. Of course I’d seen photos, but I was taken aback by what a fantastic setting it had. I whiled away an hour soaking up the views, before heading down through the town to my hotel. Batteries set on charge, I headed out for dinner, eventually deciding on the Lebanese restaurant, Beirut Mezze, enjoying a Fried Cauliflower starter followed by a whole Sea Bass.

The stage to Bristol, through Cornwall, Devon and Somerset has taken 5 days, covering 243 miles and involved 16,567 feet of climbing.

Now for some sleep.

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