Category: cycle-touring

Iceland 2023: The Ring Road

Back in the Saddle…

When I cycled from Land’s End to John o’ Groats in August 2021, it was a targeted attempt to regain some fitness after a busy few months at work where sporting pursuits had fallen by the wayside. Since then, my main training focus has been running and the culmination of the last few years has been recent PBs in the 5K and Half Marathon of 18:37 and 1:25:40 respectively, and completing my first ever Marathon in Manchester in a time of 3:14:36. So, almost 2 years since LEJOG, I’m definitely fitter than I was, but I haven’t been doing much cycling, so it must be time for another adventure…

Last summer was largely spent working on bikes rather than cycling them, and I finally bought a new bike to replace my battle-scarred Thorn Brevet, the bike that has scaled the Atlas mountains and the Vietnamese highlands, while also rolling past the stunning Oregon coastline along the way. What is the new bike? Well, it’s another Thorn, a Club Tour, a heavier duty tourer with stronger wheels and wider tyres for exploring off the beaten track, perfect for its debut outing along the Fife Coastal Path last September.

So, when I started dreaming about where to travel next, my thoughts turned to the gravel trails of New Zealand and the dirt roads of the Carretera Austral in Chile, but, alas, I have a new job, and not enough holidays to spare, so I started to think of somewhere similar, but closer to home. An active volcanic landscape, sparsely populated, and only a two hour flight. That’ll be Iceland.

For those who have followed my previous tours, you’ll have spotted that I do like a good, old-fashioned, point to point route, they tend to look good on maps, and offer the greatest rate of change of landscape and culture. But, my second favourite is definitely a loop, and the fact that Iceland has a Ring Road that circumnavigates the whole country is almost as good! When I started to plan the trip I found statistics that suggested that the Ring Road still featured gravel stretches, and that as much as 30% of it could still be gravel. However, more recently I’ve found a more up to date source that shows that it has now been tarmacked all the way round, and now that I know that, it does make a difference to my choice of bike. And, with me being reluctant to take my new bike on a plane as of yet, the old one is being pressed into service once more.

What, then, is the plan? Well, I’ve booked my flights to Reykjavik, and I’ll stay in Reykjavik Campsite on the first night; storing my bike box there for when I return. Then, I’ll set off around the Golden Circle to Geyser and Gullfoss before joining Route 1 – the Ring Road – on the south coast, and following it anti-clockwise around the country. All in all, a distance of around 852 miles and with 16 days to complete it, it’s lucky there’s a lot of daylight…

Oh, and I leave tomorrow, so I’d best get packing!

Lejog Day 3: Liskeard – Crediton

Distance: 55.4 miles

Time: 5:34

Elevation: 4096 feet

The day started well when the campsite owner, Kathryn, brought me over some porridge and a coffee. I was on the road at 10 o’clock and had unfinished business with the climb up to Bodmin Moor.

A brisk descent through Pensilva followed and then another stiff climb up to Golberdon, where my alternative accommodation for the previous evening had been. Down and up again through anonymous country lanes, then another brake-busting descent led to Horsebridge, where a medieval bridge aided my passage to a new county, Devon.

Devon welcomed me with a grinding climb; from 50m Horsebridge to 300m and the edge of Dartmoor. Under the shadow of Brent Tor and its ancient church, I chatted to a cyclist on a few day tour around the moor, laden with four panniers and with a rucksack strapped atop his rack.

The road dropped down to Lydford Gorge, and I stopped at the visitor centre cafe for ice cream and a scone. As I sat preparing my scone on the grass, I realised that I was at risk of committing a huge cultural faux pas, by ignorantly applying the clotted cream and jam in an order wholly incognisant of the Devonian methodology. I carried on regardless, if any interested party, Devonian or Cornish, wanted to see how a scone should be prepared, this could be a lesson to them. As it happens, the right way is the Devonian way, but I’d desecrated tradition anyway by having a fruit scone, and raspberry – not strawberry – jam.

Soon there was a distinct improvement in proceedings as I turned onto ‘The Granite Way’, a tarmacked former railway bed that crept around the edge of Dartmoor for 8 gloriously flat miles between Lydford and Okehampton. The cycle path was busy with other users and one man in particular appeared to be having a tough time of it, with a fixed wheel tagalong attached to his bike, his son seemed to be having a great time back pedalling up the climbs!

After popping into a shop on the edge of Okehampton for provisions, I committed myself to aim for Crediton, another 20 miles further on. Thankfully, the road stuck to major roads to Whiddon Down, and I felt good riding the shallower gradients. The going remained good until a sharp climb a mile from Crediton, and instantly the fatigue in my legs returned. When a further 9% ramp followed shortly after, I opted to push, after 48 miles I’d given up the battle for today.

The nearest campsite was 5 miles to the East, and with no response to my phone call I headed there regardless, largely because the route looked flat. Arriving at the Langford Bridge campsite at 20 to 7, the sign stated that reception was open ‘til 7, and the campsite was largely empty, I’d found my abode for the night.

Luckily, after the exertions of the day, my dinner couldn’t be simpler, a tin of Heinz beans and sausages, and, finally, a use for the stove I’ve been carrying.

UK 2021: Land’s End to John o’ Groats

So, what does your average globetrotting cycle-tourist do during a world pandemic I hear you ask? Unsurprisingly, look for the nearest suitable challenge not necessitating the use of an Aeroplane and get packing is the answer.

And here I am, packed. Packed off on the 9:08 train from Edinburgh Waverley and with over 12 hours to kill before I arrive in Penzance. My challenge is – of course – Land’s End to John o’ Groats. 1000 miles, from the south-western tip of the British mainland to the north-eastern one.

The route I am intending to follow is the one presented in the Cicerone LeJoG guidebook, and is described as the ‘optimal’ route by none other than the author himself. Optimal because it keeps to quiet roads without adding greatly to the overall mileage.

To this stage, my planning has been minimal. I booked a train – and accommodation for my first night in Penzance – and that’s about it! Hotels in England look expensive, so I’ve brought my tent and hope to camp most nights, but not having planned where I hope to reach each night, I’ll need to seek out my accommodation options as I go. Hopefully this isn’t complicated too much by the English school holidays or lingering Covid restrictions…

Epilogue

I arrived in Ho Chi Minh City on Monday afternoon, and didn’t fly out again until Thursday, it seemed like an extravagant amount of time in which to get ready. But, getting a bike box was a priority, and with the ongoing Tet celebrations, the predominance of closed shops was a concern. I considered cycling around the city checking out the various bike shops, but I decided I was ‘aff’ bikes for the time being. Besides, after 3 weeks cycling, it was now a struggle to walk up stairs, I should probably go on foot. After checking for bike shops on Google Maps, the first I tried was 2 km to the north, no luck, I couldn’t locate the shop, if the map was right, it was closed.

Then I spotted two close together 2 km to the south of the hotel, so back I went. The first one was closed, but the second, Saigon Bikes was open. Not only that, but the owner addressed me in English and I could see some bike boxes hiding behind a well-stocked cabinet of shimano bike parts. With a huge sense of relief, I tucked the folded up box under my arm and wandered back to the hotel.

I packed up the bike, outside the hotel, on the Wednesday morning, and was baffled by a lady who grabbed the box, chucked my empty water bottles in it and started to walk off with it. ‘Hey I need that!’

In the afternoon, I made a belated attempt at conventional tourism by heading to the ‘War Remnants Museum’ an utterly harrowing experience in which the Vietnamese have showcased the horrors to which they were subjected by the American military. The accounts of entire villages being completely ransacked were appalling, with the elderly, women, children and animals all slaughtered, buildings – such as they were – torched, and chemicals poured over the landscape to destroy crops and vegetation.

One thing that stood out above all else were the words of North Vietnamese President, Ho Chi Minh, whose name adorned the road I had been travelling for the past 3 weeks.

I was glad I went to the Museum, but also glad I went at the end of the trip. For a country which has undergone such trauma in the not too distant past, the scars seem to have healed remarkably well, and the country I travelled through is a testament to the unbreakable nature of the Vietnamese people. The welcome I received, up and down the country, was wonderful.

On my last evening in Vietnam, I decided to have a special meal to commemorate my successful adventure. Opting for the local delicacy of Australian Black Angus Fillet Steak, maybe there is a limit to the number of bowls of Pho I can endure in one month…

All was set, all I needed to do now was make it to the airport for my 13:55 flight to Hanoi. From there I would fly out to Doha at 18:20 and onwards to Edinburgh. ‘Sorry sir, your flight has been delayed to 6:20 PM’ were the unwelcome words from the Jetstar Pacific check-in desk. When I protested that I had another onward flight from Hanoi at exactly that time, I was told to go to their information desk, and from then on it was all systems go. I had to retrieve my bike from baggage control, before returning it to them again – as it was also outsized baggage. By that time, the staff had transferred me onto an earlier, Vietnam Airlines, flight, and running to the gate, I made final boarding.

Back in Hanoi there was a brief interlude between flights while I talked to a Frenchman, Auguste, as I waited for the interterminal bus. He was backpacking around the world and had been to Capo Verde, Martinique, Brazil, New Zealand, Australia and South Korea amongst other places and was heading on to New Delhi, India. He’d been travelling for 13 months already.

My second check-in process ground to a halt as the girl at the desk checked the Baggage Allowance information for British Airways, whom I’d booked my Qatar Airways flight through. The BA allowance was 23 kg, the bike box was 25 kg, if it was a BA flight I knew they’d let me through. As it was, I was sure I’d read that the baggage allowance for the flight should be the Qatar Airways allowance of 30 kg – as they were operating the flight. Having been moved out of the queue, I wasn’t flying anywhere until I found the link on the BA app that stated that for Qatar Airways flights, their conditions applied, my bike was under the limit.

On the flight to Doha I chatted to the passenger next to me, a London-based Luxembourger named Adrien, who was delighting in the freedom afforded to him by solo travel. During his 2 and a half week trip to Vietnam, he’d received an invite to celebrate the Lunar New Year with a friend in Taiwan, and had absolutely loved it, ending up there for a week. I considered how much freedom I’d had on my trip, as I slavishly ticked off places I’d preordained whilst still at home. But, pushing hard to achieve my targets early on had allowed me the opportunity to take things easier during the middle of the journey, enjoying spending time with some of the people I’d met along the away, and ultimately, it was the people that made a trip like this worth doing. The stunning landscapes and fascinating culture were just a bonus.