UK Bikepacking Amble | April/May 2023 | #1

30 April 2023

Malmesbury - Tetbury - Stroud - Cheltenham - Tewksbury - Worcester - Ombersley - Great Witley - Tenbury Wells - Ludnow - Shrewsbury

Six days into a three week bikepacking trip in the UK. I arrived at Luton Airport (for the first and probably the last time) from the Netherlands and, after a splendid day with my dear friend Andy in London (and a pleasant first-time stroll through an extraordinarily beautiful Richmond Park), I caught the train to Malmesbury in Wiltshire (where my brother Gordon lives with his family).

He very kindly lent me one of his two identical Stanton (https://www.stantonbikes.com) steel frame bikes (he has an extra just in case I arrive for a cycle, at least that is what I choose to believe) and I headed roughly northwards with no real plan in mind other than to ride each day and greet whoever I passed (or passed me, more likely). I'm not the quickest. My normal bikepacking ride is a Surly Karate Monkey, also a steel frame bike, and the Stanton I am riding is very similar.

As a reasonably experienced bikepacker I can work a compass and I figured that north was as good a direction to go as any. North from Malmesbury is up into the Cotswolds and beyond that up through Worcester and to Chester. Besides, my friend Graham Denny, a South African living in the UK for many years and a fellow Freedom Challenge rider, lives in a near-by town by the name of Stroud and he had extended an invitation to come and visit.

Bikepackers love such invitations so northwards it was as I happily ambled off, leaving a rather sad looking brother in his driveway. Gordon would have loved to have set off with me and I would have liked that very much indeed, so I was equally sad. Nothing an ice cream couldn't succeed in cheering me up so an hour down the road I did exactly that at the delightful https://jollynicefarmshop.com/. It lived up to it's name. Ice creams can solve many problems. They can cause a few as well come to think of it, but let us not dwell on that.

I am trying out a cycling app called Komoot. Simple concept - select a start and end point, choose your style of riding (MTB, gravel, touring or road) and off you go. Komoot maps an appropriate route for you and proceeds to guide you: “turn left in 50m” in a voice that is way too seductive for safe cycling. Made me feel a bit better about not having Gordon with me, a (very) friendly voice ("assume the position") as my navigational guardian angel.

It is apparently the wettest early spring in decades and the end result of this is that every bridal trail is a quagmire of mud. I know this because I have been down all of them, at least that is what it feels like. Bloody hard work, although good training for Freedom Challenge, scheduled for later in the year. When updating Gordon on my progress he had one word of advice: "get off the bridal trails". Needless to say I have switched my riding style option to “touring”. Much better. More distance. Cleaner.

This is a beautiful part of the UK. Rolling hills, ancient farmhouses, kind and gentle people. My childhood in South Africa (of mainly Scottish, English and Irish ancestry) consisted of almost entirely English children's literature and to my astonishment I found myself cycling through the images conjured up by the imagination of my youth. It feels good. Like home, which takes some getting used to, as it isn't home, in the traditional sense of the word.

I have taken to stopping, probably more frequently than I should, for a half-pint of the local brew, either an ale or a cider. I sense I am becoming a cider guy, not surprising given my sweet tooth. My quasi-teetotaler status is under significant threat.

It is spring and I am travelling through cricket country. Plenty of rugby pitches as well but cricket season is upon us. Village club after village club, all preparing themselves for summer. Grass being cut, pitches prepared, pickets painted. The sport is very much alive here, thankfully.

I figured it might be an idea to look in at as many village clubs as I could, perhaps enquiring as to whether any South Africans had played for that club over the years. I have a soft spot for club cricket (and South Africans, as they are me), admiring the grandfather/father/son (and now mother/daughter) participation that has held communities together for a very long time. The life and soul of the village. To hear of or witness the death of a village cricket club to me is an awful thing.

The randomness of Komoot gives me a proper look at life in this neck of the woods. I’m not doing much a day, 50-60km, and what I do is at a sedate pace. I’ve asked what people think of Brexit. I haven’t had anyone say they support it. Not one person, which is bit puzzling. Someone, quite a few "someones" actually, must have voted "Yes", but where are they? Hiding with embarrassment I imagine. Most people are angry. I’d be surprised if the Conservative Party won the next election by the looks of things and this, as far as I can see, is Tory countryside.

Things are more expensive than I remember. Way more expensive. I'd fondly imagined a nice room above a pub for 40 to 50 quid. A glass of local cider, a packet of pork scratchings before a traditional local dinner, maybe a pie and some sticky toffee pudding. Reality was pub rooms are a lot fancier than I remember and significantly more expensive.

My stay with Graham and his wife was lovely. They cycled out out with me when I left Stroud and took me along repurposed defunct railway lines (bikepacking at its best) through the rolling hills around Stroud. Spring in the UK in this area (and I am sure elsewhere) is bluebell time. They looked a bit worried about my cycling ambitions as I was struggling a bit that day. I assured them I was in no hurry and would bunker up somewhere if needed.

And so my journey has started, a blissful amble on mainly country lanes through idyllic village after idyllic village. I’m in Ludnow as I write. Hopefully Shrewsbury tonight. My first Warmshowers hosts, I’ll explain what that is in my next post.

I have attached a couple of things to this and hopefully to future posts. Firstly links to Strava for each day, for those that wish to follow (and perhaps download) my routes and secondly a gallery of images taken for the period covered in this post. Some of these images I have annotated, not all, as mostly the story tells itself ("a herd of cows", something the reader shouldn't have too much difficulty in identifying, unless of course one's vote was for Brexit in which case the confusion would be understandable).