It’s a pretty church, but the reason why it’s here is because of the bells. Every quarter hour, a really lovely hymn that we almost recognised, from 6:00 am to 11:00 pm, just an hour or two longer than we would have liked, as we were sleeping with the window open just next door.

Another seat adjustment, as it seemed to have slipped, a few navigation checks and we were off through the stunning Lancashire countryside. Having never been here, it is well underrated. Or maybe they just don’t want tourists. And the best accent of any we have heard; rich, robust and very understandable.

Having stayed high up in Mellor last night, we avoided Blackburn altogether, and were soon cycling on quiet lanes, up to a tiny hamlet of one farm called Cow Ark, then on through the Forest of Bowland. The Forest of Bowland is part in Lancashire and part in North Yorkshire, and has moorland, bogs, and rare birds, some of which we were fortunate to see. I heard the harrier hawks before I saw them, but husband spotted them swooping. Not to mention the old Hurricane we heard first and then saw, at very close range when we were high up on the moors.

On our way to Slaidburn, we passed Browsholme Hall, though the only part of it you could actually see from the road was this gate, and that was by trespassing ever so slightly onto the private drive. Well worth it though, especially the stag sitting on top of the wall.

Slaidburn, with a Youth Hostel, Village Shop, pub and war memorial, was the beginning of the Skaithe road, that ascends high into the Lancashire moors.

The landscape is dramatic and there were a handful of cars. A few cyclists passed us going uphill, but we are accustomed to that now. We can tell easily by their helmets. Ours are sort of round with a tiny visor; theirs are sleek and aerodynamic. I keep telling husband we are leisure cyclists; they are competitive cyclists, training to get fitter and go faster. We just want to get to John O’ Groats.

We had a short day today, just under 50 miles, as we are staying at Yealand Manor, with friends Peter has made through his infamous motorbike adventures. We arrived early, Jan gave us tea and both she and Matthew are providing wonderful hospitality in their beautiful home.

Yealand is just at the southern end of the Lake District. This is where we have a very short day tomorrow, which was originally our rest day. I will be sorry to leave Lancashire. It is somewhere to return to, even on bicycles.

A day of some revelations. First, I have been cycling for over a year with my seat too low. Husband has raised it and my legs felt immediately longer!

The morning started well enough. One of the pub owners got up early to make us breakfast, but did have the radio and the recorded music on at the same time. Nevertheless, we got on our way on another glorious day. We stopped just outside the village of Farndon, where we had been staying, to look at this enormous memorial to a young man killed in the Crimean War.

Cycling merrily along, we came to a junction and realised we had missed a turn about four miles back. It was early morning, flat and pretty so not too much of a problem. And this house reminded me that we had seen some old buildings constructed of red stone, and even the bricks had a red quality.

Convinced that husband just wants to make sure we cycle 70 miles a day (this was going to be a short 60), we headed back and found our road. Our route took us around Chester, so it quickly became more suburban than rural.

From there, we eventually had no choice but to join a busy A road, going around Manchester but through Warrington. On our way, we stopped at a sandwich shop in Helsby where even some of the locals couldn’t understand each other. We knew we were near Manchester.

Hard to see in this photo, but this is a horse with a jockey on, stuffed a bit like a scarecrow. There were others along the way, but this is the only one I saw.

We continued through Warrington and then Leigh, where we had further navigational problems. I had thought we could stop and eat our sandwiches in Leigh, thinking of  a quiet park like we had found in Shrewsbury. Without wanting to offend anyone who might be from Leigh, it was one of the worst urban environments I have ever experienced. We were relieved to finally find our way out and had lunch soon after.

Second revelation is that while big city centres are interesting, stimulating and exciting places, the urban sprawl around them is extensive, without the advantages of the centre. We went from one to another with little relief today, though I’m sure there are less urban places within driving distance.

Still on a busy road with lots of traffic, we began a very slow climb to Bolton. Through Lostock, we had another navigational error, and had to turn round. We found our way again (most of these “we’s” are husband, as he is chief navigator, though I do try to help) and had a steep climb before finally getting on a much smaller and quieter road.

There may have been a reason for it being so much quieter, as we found shortly after. There had been a Road Closed sign, but one never knows just where the road is closed or if they REALLY mean it. Plus our only option would have been to go through the centre of Bolton.

We did get through and other cyclists came through after us. The workers were quite relaxed about it. In fact they were quite relaxed. Of around a dozen people, I saw three actually working.

Another revelation is that speed bumps are effective in slowing down cyclists. How annoying to finally get a good downhill run and find oneself braking to go over large humps in the road!

We did finally get some beautiful landscapes again, but still on a busy road, so hard to appreciate. We stopped using our route guide and husband turned to Google Maps to get us to the hotel, which is outside of Blackburn in Melor.

Google very kindly took us on a cycle path, but unfortunately, it is currently a funfair. We cycled around and found our way. We then cycled up two of the most challenging hills of the last several days, my very least favourite thing to do at the end of what had been a very long (now over 70 miles) and not very pleasant day.

Reading about the End to End, there is constant reference to the first two days in Cornwall and Devon being the worst. Perhaps because they are already becoming distant memories, we didn’t mind them so much. We had fresh legs, and despite the rain, it was always beautiful and there were always quiet roads as alternatives to the busy ones.

Another revelation then is that I would prefer a rainy day in Cornwall to the urban cycling today, and though I may regret these words, it wouldn’t be the Lake District that discourages me, it would be more cycling like today.

However, that should be the worst of it. Tomorrow we get to the edge of the Lake District. And the final revelation is that I think we are doing this in 17 not 16 days. Husband had given us a rest day that I thought was included in the original 16 but it wasn’t. And I convinced him to give us two short days in the Lake District rather than a rest day and a long day after.

We are in Lancashire, where the sheep have returned to the landscape.

Not really sorry to leave Herefordshire,  with its poor roads and not so dramatic landscape. Shropshire has been stunning since we crossed its border. So many sheep and happy lambs.

The first 35 miles were hilly, with a couple of almost vertical climbs.

I confess to having a very nice walk in two places, one just before and one just after this photo. We cycled on, turned a corner at Pentre Hodre farm and up we went, beyond where we had already come.

It was a glorious view at the top, and we fortunately had a bit of cycling along before our descent.

Shropshire remained picturesque, with the pretty constant voices of sheep and lambs as a backdrop. We had another long uphill followed by a really perfect descent, not too steep so not too many braking moments.

We had lunch in Shrewsbury, by the Severn River next to the Quantum Leap sculpture, honouring Charles Darwin, born in Shrewsbury, to our surprise.

After lunch was feeling really sleepy, but given the choice between lying down for a nice nap and cycling another 30 miles, I chose the latter.

The cycling from Shrewsbury was mostly flat, through more lovely villages. Loppington was a favourite, with Loppington Hall

selling jams, marmalades, and pickled onions outside the gate. If we hadn’t been on bicycles, I would have stocked up.

Through Bettisfield, where we found that we had crossed back into Wales, the clue being the signs in English and Welsh. We crossed a canal, now called the Llangollen Canal (another clue) and continued on until crossing back into England into Cheshire.

So far Cheshire is very pretty, but not much of a feeling for it yet. The roads we have been on have been quiet and lined with high hedges. Looking for footballers’ mansions but none so far.

We cycled 76.5 miles today. Husband says we can round it up to 77. It is as close to doing a hundred mile day as I will ever get. I felt good at the end, and it was a relatively easy day after the first 35 miles. But it is still 77 miles!

We left the hotel at hotel at the top of the hill (I think I did mention

it was rather a big hill at the end of the day) early in the misty, cold morning. By the time we arrived at the Severn Bridge, it was clearing, and had become a sunny day in Wales.

Wales has moved way up in my estimation. Good bike paths through heavy traffic, then superb cycling to Tintern Abbey, with good road surfaces. Which become so very important when cycling for seven hours.

We continued on through the Wye Valley, beautiful and quiet, hills and dales. We saw two lambs bleating as they hurried along a path through a field, with not a sheep in sight. Eventually we saw two sheep meandering towards them down the same path, miles ( maybe not quite) away. Shattered my image of maternal instinct in the wild, or the domesticated version of the wild. Way later we saw the flock, sunbathing and blissfully unaware of the drama.

We went through Monmouth, notable for for the hill leaving but also for apparently being the first Wikipedia town. I don’t even know what that means, but there it was on the sign announcing our entry into Monmouth.

Which does also remind me that husband found it quite amusing yesterday to see that Glastonbury is twinned with a Greek Island and somewhere in Ethiopia.

It was another perfect day (see above photo) and eventually we crossed over into England, Herefordshire, where I have never been. And then we decided one more hill

before lunch and found this shop in St. Weonards with the signpost for the End to End. I was slightly disappointed at the distance, as we had come over 40 miles from Bristol, but this is pretty much as the crow flies along the major roads. And we’re definitely off the crow’s flight path.

Still, very friendly people who have seen there share of cyclists on this mission. They told us about every hill between there and Hereford, and were spot on. Including the lovely downhill run into Hereford.

In my Archer mind I was convinced that Herefordshire is where Ambridge is set. Husband reminded me (yet again) that Ambridge is a fictional place. Still Herefordshire would fit very well. So many farms, and pretty with rolling hills, accented with small villages.

Until later when it became flat and almost boring, like a mini (or perhaps micro) Nebraska. But I think that may have been my mind melting in the last 10 miles of another 70 mile day. Showers have amazing restorative powers.

The husband has been reading blogs and made some suggestions. First, he said, yesterday sounds very nice but I don’t think people realise how hard it was. Talking about hills would just bore people I say. He agrees, but will just say that yesterday had some incredible climbs.

Then, he said, you haven’t told them all the things that have gone wrong. I was being nice, I said. But he told me not to be. So, husband is into gadgets, especially for this trip. First to go was the holder for his iPhone so that he could easily use it to navigate. I was behind going downhill at 30-odd mph when I saw something flying through the air. I screeched to a stop, went back and found said iPhone and the bits that had been holding it onto his bike. Cracked and crumbly, but still works. Holder had snapped off.

Then his bike fell over and broke the mirror (hours on the internet and lots of small packages arriving at home). And fortunately behind him again today (I do tend to apply brakes going downhill and he doesn’t; says it’s the motorbike riding that makes him confident to go fast around corners) and picked up the gloves he had left on the bike. Actually it all started at Lands End, when his bike blew over and he hadn’t closed the handlebar pack and 16 days worth of maps and hotel bookings flew around the car park.

So, we’re caught up with all that. Today was a lovely day, almost too hot when cycling uphill. I actually stripped down to my short sleeves for a while.

The cycle route was very beautiful and pleasant. Two problems. Cars were allowed and though there weren’t many, I resented every single one of them. And second, I do tend to meander slowly along cycle paths, stop to take photos, sort of forget we are on this epic journey. Which is nice, but we do go quite slowly at the best of times.

From the path we skirted round Wells, and I will now quote from the book we are using:”Departure from the cathedral city will be memorable for the very steep 200m climb into the Mendip Hills, an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.”

Oh, and the emus remind me that I forgot to say yesterday that we went past a free range chicken farm. Hundreds of chidkens very happily doing chicken thigns in a big field. Should have taken a photo, but we were cruising.

The Bristol photo should be here, but haven’t yet, and probably never will, figure out how to put photos where I want them.

So it was all going well, until we got near Bristol, then some difficult navigation, traffic, pesky pedestrians on the cycle path, and an uphill climb to our hotel resulted in my arriving very grumpy. Washed all my cycling clothes, took a long shower, and feel much better.

When I first looked at our route and saw that we were meant to be in
Bristol on our fourth day, my stomach turned. But here we are 229 miles later, Meeting friends for dinner. Cross into Wales tomorrow, I think just to say we’ve been there.

We began our morning early, knowing we had a long and challenging day ahead. The pub (yes we did sleep through the live music) very kindly gave us a breakfast tray the night before and made sandwiches for the day ahead.

After a five mile climb, we arrived high on Dartmoor. Spectacular views, ponies everywhere. We had ups and downs, but it was a morning through the National Park that was memorable.

We left the moor and went through Exeter, probably much easier as it was a Sunday. We stopped for lunch soon after (where we discovered we had two sandwiches each!) then began a relaxing and really lovely ride through quiet lanes of Devon. Beautiful daffodils on the banks of the roads, grape hyacinths, wild primrose. And just rolling hills. The kind of cycling you might actually want to do on a Sunday afternoon.

We left Devon late this afternoon and are in Somerset, staying in a very nice hotel. It was my first ever 70 mile day and I was very tired by the end. Apparently it won’t be my last!

Everything had dried out this morning, except my phone, which had been in the pocket of my (not very) waterproof jacket all day yesterday. Now it seems to have really and truly died.

But enormous thanks to Anne at Ekerley Guest House in Veryan, who gave us tea and scones when we arrived, took our shoes to dry and brought our bicycles in overnight. Generally made us feel warm and cozy and very happy.

Longer day today but not as long as tomorrow. Everyone–books, internet, actual people–had said the first two days are the hardest. We have spread them out a bit so have some challenges tomorrow as well, but I won’t argue that these days have been hard.

We left Cornwall this afternoon and climbed into Devon, into Dartmoor National Park. It is so different from the lanes and hedges and fields of Cornwall, to see the vast expanse of landscape, gorse and ponies. Lots of ponies grazing happily. We were on a busy main road unfortunately, so I couldn’t take photos, but we cycle onto the moor tomorrow on a quieter road.

Staying in a pub tonight, and apparently they have live music on Saturday night. And breakfast at 9:00! But they will do a breakfast tray for us and I think we might be tired enough to sleep through any music, no matter how bad it might be.

So there’s the proof that we started at Land’s End this morning. It was windy and cloudy, but ok. We met a man as we were taking our photos who said his wife, who was just getting out of their Land Rover, was about to walk from End to End. She was going by herself over three months, camping as she went. She had just retired, and this was her gift to herself. Makes what we are doing seem quite sane.

The reason there are no other photos is that a few minutes from Land’s End it started to rain, and it rained all day, with quite an accompanying wind. Still, it was lovely to be cycling through Cornwall, and much better than the circuitous training days around Kent and Surrey when we never really got anywhere except home.

We managed the ups and downs and stopped for lunch at a pub in a tiny village. Not a day for a picnic. Arrived in Veryan pretty much wet from head to toe. The shoe covers aren’t waterproof, the waterproof gloves aren’t waterproof and the waterproof jacket isn’t (very) waterproof. My Cubs hat under my helmet kept the rain out of my eyes and off my face to some extent. The helmet did a very good job of anchoring the hat in the wind.

We used to come to Veryan when the kids were younger, mostly during the May half-terms, so it is a bit of a diversion for sentiment’s sake. The room is warm and we are hoping everything will dry before the morning, which is meant to be overcast but not raining.

So, first day and we’ve had the worst of the weather, some of the worst of the hills (though plenty more to come) and we are warm and dry in a spectacularly beautiful part of the world. No complaints.

Up early to take the dogs for a last walk before we abandon them for 18 days. It was raining, which is relevant because I had my phone in my coat pocket and apprently it got wet and now doesn’t work. It is in pieces in front of me on the train.

Yes the train! We made it, not without stresses, wrong turns, lots of traffic, and a final diversion that meant you couldn’t actually arrive at Paddington Station. We (Bob Lay who very kindly drove us and our clobber) parked illegally, unloaded our bikes, put on our panniers, found a place for my iPad, which hadn’t been packed (walking the dogs), and ran off.

In fact, we arrived in time enough to load our bikes and carry our panniers most of the way back to our carriage and settle in. A slightly grumpy elderly (more than me) man has my seat going forward, so I am sitting backwards and hoping not to get sick. Husband had very carefully booked a forward seat, but we are much too polite to insist. We did, though, grumble a lot when he got off.

However, to offset grumpy man, as we were taking our bikes off the train in Penzance, a very kind older man asked if we were cycling End to End, said he had done it with his son and had a magnificent time.

We got on our bikes, went the wrong way, asked a very nice person for directions and up we went, to Sennen, a mile from Lands End. Only we are staying at Sennen Cove. Coves are at the bottom of cliffs. Which is fine until we need to get to the top tomorrow morning.

Still, it is very beautiful here in the cove and the cycle ride reminded me how much I love Cornwall-green fields with hedges and yellow gorse, daffodil farms ( had no idea they grew daffodils in Cornwall), and rolling hills (thank you Sevenoaks for all of those hills on our training rides).

Tomorrow we begin.

We haven’t begun yet, but I thought I’d best try out my blogging skills on my iPad before we go.

Many of you know this began in January, when I arrived home and announced to long suffering husband that I had decided what I wanted to do for my 60th birthday. Visible relief on his part, as he didn’t have any clues. Then I announced that I wanted to cycle from Land’s End to John O’ Groats, the iconic journey from one end of the UK to the other.

Rather hesitantly he asked if he was meant to come as well, and when I replied affirmatively, there was a noticeable concern in his voice as he asked when this was happening.

Because of a long break at Easter from RDA, I decided it had to be then, and within days, he had the route and all of our hotels and B&Bs booked.

Training began, in the cold. What I had thought was long to drive became a short everyday training route. As we got more serious, distances took on a whole other meaning and as Peter recently pointed out, it has given us the opportunity to explore our (very hilly) and beautiful countryside.

We have been training as best we can; it is incredibly time consuming, and mentally consuming as well. I don’t know if we have done enough. Hills are still hard to cycle up, but what used to seem hard is a bit easier and I now know what is really hard. And I am still tired at the end, but at least I get to the end.

I have bought loads of energy bars, Mars bars, Milky Ways, and Mini Eggs, as well as peanut butter. And I have started to lay out the few clothes I am taking. We hope to get our belongings transferred, but occasionally may need to carry them, so are going very light. Food is more of a priority than clothes, except of course what we are wearing for cycling, which is light layers and high vis.

We leave from Paddington Station on April 2, arriving in Penzance. We then cycle to Land’s End, rather unfortunately doing the same in reverse the next day.

Thanks to everyone who has been encouraging and more confident than I am, including my two children. And especially to Kate, whose father,Dick Poole, broke the record for cycling an End to End in less than 48 hours, in 1965, fifty years ago.