Cycle Norfolk - 2

Only the faintest drop of rain today - more or less perfect for cycling. We set off at 10ish, the sun shining, bidding our hostess a cheery Goodbye. Within a mile, however, ping went my back tyre. (The nearest village was Rougham, so what should I expect?) Back like bad pennies we gloomily walked to our friend's house: she, however, quickly dug out an old bike rack and in two ticks off we all set in her car to the Fakenham cycle shop. Amazing. ("T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...")

From Fakenham, it's a doddle to where we are staying this evening - 40 miles South-East in Kirby Bedon. Both places are on Route 1 of Sustrans' marvellous National Cycle Network: I still have the old route map from my 2011 ride to Ampleforth, up through Lincolnshire. The difference between route levels is barely ever more than 40 metres: as far as Norwich, we more or less followed the line of the River Wensum.

Sitting outside Great Ryburgh Post Office, drinking coffee, we inhaled the scent of hops being malted. "Lovely day for bicycling: you must visit St Andrew's and see our stained glass," we were urged. Not Wailes' best, we thought, having followed this suggestion. But the screens and Ninian Comper's other extensive work in the church were well worth pausing to admire. A hint of late Strawberry Hill Gothic about them.

The next stop was to photograph a signpost indicating "Gateley" - off our route unfortunately: the parish name is apparently old English and translates as 'clearing where goats are kept'. No link, I think, with my grandfather Gateley's family, his great-grandfather, who kept a pub, hailing from Ireland (Co. Roscommon). On past the imposing gates of Sennowe Hall and to a bridge across the Wensum by an equally imposing mill - a beautiful spot, but only one among many today.

From near Guestwick, the path joins the Marriott's Way, a good surface, and so we progressed with no danger from four-wheeled vehicles as far as Norwich, except through picturesque Reepham. Time ran out for us to visit "Masterpieces: Art and East Anglia" at UEA's Sainsbury Centre, let alone any of Norwich's churches, but the final lap was shorter than I had expected so there was time for a hot bath before dinner.

My photograph shows an elegant lady, posted as sentinel at allotments alongside the cycle path.

Mountains and molehills

As I've mentioned, I am enjoying dipping into Roger Deakin's Notes from Walnut Tree Farm. "All that one asks of one's friends," he writes, "is that they remain one step ahead. To have them lagging behind risks plunging into banality." But how difficult it is, to retain a perspective between the trivial and the important. I was reflecting on this in the train back to Cheltenham this afternoon. In conversation, you can, if you're not careful, get as heated about England peeing on the pitch as Syria raining incendiaries onto a school playground. It's easy to forget there are always choices we can make about what we discuss.

Planning a walk from Stroud, you have basically two choices: a steep pull uphill to see something of the Cotswolds and look out over the Severn Vale, and a flat, shady trudge parallel to fairly busy roads, but with (in one direction) one of Gloucestershire's ace pubs as your goal. It is still warm and dry, but the visibility this morning wasn't great. As the two others I was meeting shared my thought that food and drink were as important as exercise, we opted for the second alternative, walking from Stroud Station to beyond Nailsworth mainly on the old railway line.

It's part of Sustrans' National Cycle Network, but we were not badly buzzed by bikes: all those that did come past had kindly "belled" us in good time. And it's an interesting walk, giving you a behind the scenes look at the area's industrial past. There are some high class graffiti in one of the tunnels, and a couple of sculptural signposts caught the eye. The natural world is well documented by displays posted at intervals.

By the time we reached Nailsworth, we were ready for our lunch. The look of a menu we passed offered a temptation to halt there, but the prices put us off so on we pressed along the Avening Road to our planned destination, the Weighbridge Inn. The look on my friend's face when his 2in1 pie arrived sums up the general happiness not to have been deflected into William's Kitchen.

Cycle 3

The weather has changed. After weeks of dry if not sunny days, today was showery, and this evening it rather looks as if it might never stop. It was always going to be a long ride from our B&B at Kingthorpe - excellent - to this next one at Stenwith, near Belvoir. Intermittent rain made the nearly 50 miles worse, especially when National Route 15 petered out in the middle of Grantham, without any indication as to how to reach its resumption along the Canal running West.

Till then, it was a pleasant ride through the Lincolnshire countryside: I found it more fun being on roads than on the cycle tracks of yesterday, notwithstanding Sustrans' attempts to make them interesting with sculptures dotted along the way. Stopping for coffee in Navenby, we were lucky to bump into the curate, who let us into a church normally kept locked. St Vincent's, Caythorpe was happily open anyway. Syston village was a delightful discovery, now tucked a safe if short distance out of the path of the A607 - from where it was only a quick hop into Belton. No time to do more than glance back at the outside of William Winde's masterpiece, however, as we sped on through the park and down to the back gate, trusting it would not be necessary to lift our bikes over the wall. (It wasn't.)

Cycle 2

Crossing the Trent on Sustrans' National Route 647, along the old railway track, we approached Lincoln without hassle. Only in the immediate town centre does it get at all hairy; and then there's the hill up to the Castle and Cathedral. Happily, we were able to leave the bikes in a friend's back yard, which freed us to explore the historic parts without worry.

We benefitted from two tip-offs. First, the magnificent Wren Library: it would have been easy to miss the stairs up to this when exploring Lincoln's astonishing Cathedral; and secondly the Usher Gallery. This two-site complex was well worth the trouble of a visit, and not just for the excellent view of the Cathedral above from the more modern building.

The Radev Collection was showing: it had been kept together by picture framer, Mattei Radev, a peasant refugee from Bulgaria. Via an extraordinary transformation he became part of the post-War male salon of Eddy Sackville-West and Eardley Knollys. Radev inherited more than 100 sculptures and paintings by 65 artists, a marvellously eclectic assemblage of mainly 20th Century works, only on show to the public since October last.

On the Cathedral front, being used to Gloucester, we found the architectural contrast remarkable. (Caroline prefers Gloucester!) Our welcome in Lincoln today was warm, helpful and well-organised, both at the main entrance and in the Library. The guide in the latter was at pains to stress the glory of God as the motivating factor. God is surely the original elephant in the room - he barely got a mention from our Cathedral floor guide.

A bit of LEJOG

Today, I took my bike on the train so as to join my friends Martin and Peter (and friends of theirs), who are in the process of cycling from Land's End to John O'Groats - they have a blog too. When I came alongside them near Slimbridge after lunch, they had already biked more than 40 miles. (I am now exhausted after a mere 20 or so miles!) They have another fortnight to go. And compared to the hills of Somerset, where they had started early this morning, I had an easy bit - up the Severn valley, and on through Gloucester. While I peeled off to come home and sink into a hot bath, they slogged up the A38. What particularly puzzled me - it must be a sign that I am ready to put my feet up - is that, so far from rejoicing at living life in the Slow Lane for three weeks, Martin confessed it was all a frantic business getting to the right place at the right time. What a mad way to celebrate being 65! Don't they know they are now eligible for a free bus pass, for use anywhere in England? OK, it wouldn't take you as far as John O'Groats. No, really I'm exhilarated to have been able to tap in, and admire hugely their cojones.
Whilst waiting to meet up, I saw lightening in the distance, but managed to avoid any of the sharp showers that were around: in fact, discounting the slight head wind, it was perfect weather for cycling. Going through Gloucester these days is heaven on a bike: the City had a cycling Mayor for some years: he encouraged the estimable Sustrans in their Route 41 planning, and the mediaeval lanes round the Cathedral are ideal for avoiding car traffic. We stopped to look at Llanthony Secunda Priory, and rode through the docks: that whole area is so much more attractive now than it was 20 years ago. The outside of the Cathedral is looking magnificent - in the places where the restoration has gone ahead. And we can recommend the teashop in the basement of the old Deanery (see picture - it's where Caroline's Great-grandmother grew up: her father the Dean kept chickens in the Cloisters, according to Tamara Talbot-Rice).