Last night, after hours of deliberation (head northeast or southwest) and contingency plans for rain, we decided to wake up and figure it out.  The morning was crisp, but sunny!  So we downed a cup of coffee and toast, packed up the bikes and decided to get a jump on the promised torrential rains. Thankfully, Morgan was not tired of us (yet) and led us out of town.  Or maybe he wanted to make sure we were far enough away that we would not return.  Whichever, we were happy to have his London navigational skills.

The Saturday morning streets were bustling with cars and shoppers taking advantage of the roadside markets.  It took us about an hour to find our tow path, leaving the busy city streets behind.  Riding along the canal with the occasional lock reminded us of so many of our other enjoyable tours.  We enjoyed an hour of quiet countryside while keeping our eye on the dark clouds quickly building behind us.We had a wonderful chat with David, who was keeping a close eye (that he shared with us through his lens) of baby falcons.  It was not long after we lost our beautiful tow path, that we lost our way.  Our progress slowed dramatically when we found ourselves deep in the countryside on well used tractor paths. The ruts became so deep we were concerned we were going to loose our duckies……

then the rain hit and we slowed to a crawl; mud caked so thick to the bakes of our mud guards our wheels would not turn.  Not sure how long it took us to emerge to hard packed dirt then pavement, but while the road surface improved the weather did not; but forward progress was once again being made.  The 75° temps we had reached in the sunshine had dropped to 54°.  Ten miles down the road, as we reached the outskirts of Harlow the rain began to slow.  We biked into town and said our good-byes to Morgan who still needed to bike back to London.  We took a break for lunch and to figure out where to go from here, as the rain began to fall, again.  Cold, wet and feeling a bit defeated having only biked 31 miles, we decided to find a hotel, regroup and put some miles in tomorrow.  Our spirits were lifted after dinner when we happened upon hundreds of people getting ready for a midnight walk/run.  They partied and danced

to Michael Jackson’s Thriller.  Frank Sinatara’s New York, New York serenaded us as we strolled back to our hotel with a smile on our faces.

It was a cool morning and the wind made it quite crisp; but we were happy to trade the rain for wind, even if it was in our face.  We quickly dropped on to a bike path and a tunnel of trees, protecting us from the wind.  Many twists and turns led us from path to country roads, which is where we met Doug and Rob; we traded stories while enjoying their British humor.

The countryside was gorgeous and the weather glorious.  

We passed lovely manor homes and small villages and many stone churches.For most of the morning, we traveled the exact route that Tour de France will be following for Stage 3 (July 7); look for these pictures on the telecast.  The love of biking was evident by the numbers we saw on the road and various other displays.

Too soon for lunch, but could not resist the photo.  By noon the wind was howling and the skies had greyed, dropping the temperatures ten degrees.  We pushed on for another hour and found the perfect place to take a lunch break,conveniently across the street from the Chelmsford Cathedral.  Our lunch break was the same time as yesterday with no more miles, due to our late start.  As we began to push off after lunch, it started to sprinkle, but today we were prepared.  We donned our rain jacket, rain gloves and foot covers; we were not going to succumb to the same fate as yesterday.  Apparently, all the rain gear held the rain off; even with the overcast skies and occasional sprinkle it was a beautiful ride.  We felt like we were going in circles on these country roadsand barely navigatiable paths (note the flooded road on the right, which IS our course),  had it not been for the ever changing scenery.  But the day got to be long.  At five we entered a small town and desperately searched for a place to stay, but none were to be had and it was getting late; the next town was 10 miles down the road.  Thankfully, as we are about to push away for our last stretch, someone stopped and suggested we take a different path that led straight into town in a few less miles.  We pushed hard to get to a stopping point.  With no reservations anywhere and not knowing exactly where hotels were, we asked someone walking by.  The skies opened up and poured on us, as the gentleman politely offered directions and suggestions on places to stay.  By 6:30 we were checking in, exhausted after our slow 60 mile day.  Thankfully, there was a good restaurant right down the street as we badly needed fuel.  Tomorrow “we” are promised a shorter day.

The sun offers a warm and welcoming invitation to the day, if you are not in the crisp breeze; the 60° temps can go to 70+ easily in the sun.

We started the morning with a two mile uphill, that you only realize by the scream in the legs and not the look of the road; then we dropped into a beautiful park.  Stopping after a four mile circle, we decided we were lost, evvn though we’d been here before.  Thankfully a young man offered directions  and a recommendation for a straight route to the next town.  It would not have been our desired choice of road, but it had been a half an hour since we’d left our hotel and we had not made any progress.  Though the road was busier than our route 1, we were still able to see pretty sitesand swans (just for Bobby T).

About mid-day we stopped for coffee in the port town of Ipswich; the skies quickly greyed, temperatures dropped into the 50’s and the wind picked up; we had showers and sprinkles that lasted for about an hour.The sky then cleared to a Chamber of Commerce picture perfect day.  The small villages and countryside were spectacular, which we were thankful for, since the day once again proved to be long; thankfully a far cry better and a bit shorter than yesterday. We stopped in the darling small village of Woodbridge, still trying to figure out which way our course wanted us to go; marking our second circle for the day; not all bad considering all we get to see.Sooner or later we will get the hang of this bike touring in England.

Churches were everywhere; this one was the perfect place for the Duckies to rest and restore some energy.  Enjoyable as the ride has been today,  down narrow country roads, we were ready to be there; thankfully we had reserved a room, so we knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  We had no idea, however, how fabulous this little town. the century old church and hotel would be….…a claw foot tub…… a wonderful luxury after checking in at 5:00.But the evening would not be complete with dinner, starting with Brie and Broccoli soup,  in a comfortable local pub.

We’d been on the bike for over five hours, so with bellies full, we headed for bed.

The city square was bustling with the set up for the Tuesday morning market, beautiful from our bedroom windows.  We began our day with a fabulous breakfast of smoked salmon and eggs on a toasted bagel and fabulous toast and jam.  I usually don’t get that excited with breakfast, but this was outstanding.

There was no sun or wind, yet a comfortable 60° as we pedaled away from our quaint town, noticing the castle that we apparently missed on last evenings walk.  Even in the grey skies the countryside, farms and manor homes were beautiful.

We rolled up and down through twists and turns as tight as a zipper.  As much as we were enjoying the scenery on our (postage sized signed) National Cycle Route 1, we also liked to make forward progress, we needed a new plan.  In Harleston, after biking 17 miles to a ten mile destination, we stopped to sort things out; thankfully, Jim also stopped to assist.  He offered a couple of route suggestions, a couple places in town to possibly buy maps, as well as a place to eat in the next town.  Unfortunately, our map quest was not fruitful, but I did get a lesson in how to properly say Norwich (strong G, not ‘ch’).  Just short of the town of Bungay, a car drives by with a friendly honk and pulls to the side of the road; it was Jim.  Though we were not (yet) lost, he had retrieved a couple of maps and tracked us down to offer them to us.  We were delighted, as we had yet to find these kind of maps in the various bookstores and petrol stations along the way.  We bid our goodbyes again and headed for a little lunch.  Jim had mentioned the place was a local’s favorite and frequented by bicyclists;  this should have been our first indication of size.  Wanting just a light lunch, I opted for the sausage and onion pie, “assuming” it would be like a slice of quiche with a parsley garnish,huge but quite tasty.  Just as we were finishing, we met another friendly chap, Joe Skipper, a professional triathlete.  We discussed various routes and must-see scenery.  And as much as we would have liked to stay much longer, the food in our stomachs was luring us to complacency.  Joe was kind enough to lead us to our route then send us on our way.

The roads we were now on were a bit busier, but we still managed to roll past countryside,markets and homes hugging the road.  We could see Norwich in the distance perched upon a hill and spilling into the valleys below.  We had no idea how large it was.  We biked through town, along the water’s edge for a bit until we found a place to stay for the evening; properly positioned beside the stunning Norwich Cathedral, founded in 1096 and set upon 44 acres, it is one of the finest complete Romanesque building in Europe, with the highest Norman tower and largest monastic cloisters in England.  A sight to be seen and unexpected treat.  We did a small walk around our neighborhood, as the long days and mileage (48) were starting to take their toll.

After changing our direction once again, we pushed away from the hotel just before nine, passing many more churches that “someone” has mentioned “someone” should stop taking pictures of….they do all look the same.  Though we traveled on a “B” road, it was quite busy for about 15 miles.  Breakfast was not included with our room, so we dropped in to a small village for a coffee and breakfast sandwich.  North Walsham is a charming village, like so many we have been traveling through. 

Once out of town, we wound around on “quite lanes” laced with beautiful poppies.Except for the occasional tractor and other riders,it was truly quiet.  Enjoyed fresh picked raspberries at a stand along the road; then got our first glance of the North Sea.  Immediately, we notice the difference in building material used; we know it as River Rock, but imagine this came from the sea.  Rode past a stunning golf course right on the sea and the Cromer Country Club; this is obviously an affluent town.  Cromer is also a tourist town, but they all seem to come in on buses; so while people are everywhere, the streets are not packed with cars.  We turned down a narrow road to lead us to the sea which was quite a way down from our vantage point.We declined the steps down to the concrete pier and restaurant.Today was a short day and we could not check in until two, so we found a nice pub with a beautiful garden and enjoyed the rest.  Five miles down the road we pulled into our wonderful B & B;unexpectedly fabulous.We had only done 33 miles, but were having camera/computer issues that needed to be worked out.  This little town, though still on the sea, had a much more local flavor; which we tasted with a crab sandwich, no filler just crab meat on bread…..Wonderful.  Of course, that little morsel only made us more hungry; which we managed to quench with one of our new favorite meals, sausage and mash.The evening air had warmed, perfect time for ice cream, locally made and delicious.On our stroll back to our B & B, we enjoyed a great chat with Jeff.  Standing in the middle of the road, as the cars worked their way around us, we told stories and laughed out loud.  A perfect ending to our day.

Our room last night was exceeded only by the breakfast they offered in the morning.  Beside an incredible offering of fruit, they served a full English breakfast; thankfully, we asked for the reduced version….even Morgan can gain weight eating like this.After that size breakfast, we should have no excuses for not flying through a long ride.  No excuse until we step outside to wonderfully warm air and a stiff wind, in our face.  But we could hardly complain as it was a beautiful morning.Our rolling hills became a bit more aggressive,but the scenery remained stellar.Several miles down the road, we were waved to a stop by two individual motorists; apparently our laundry hanging from our bikes to dry was running astray…..too kind.  Even with the monster wind, we were enjoying the interesting sites, including a windmill or two.Just off the coast, too far to photograph but easily close enough to ruin the sea vista, was a huge windfarm.  As one Brit told us, “They don’t work when the wind blows and they are useless otherwise!”

The villages and hamlets were charming; the churches abundant.

Stopped for a mid-day cappuccino among lilacs and cooing ring neck doves that we’ve seen everywhere.  Since we had just had coffee, we did not stop at The Duck Inn, but did stop for the ducks.Passed a construction college, that was originally built as barracks for the RAF.

Running low on energy, we stopped for a sandwich and the ever ready conversation.Though the lunch served to help, we were ready to get there.  Our navigator gets an A+ today for keeping us off the busy road for our last eight miles into town.  Instead we enjoyed peaceful paths,meant strictly for bikesand country laneswith many walking paths.Our last stretch into town directed us through an immense park, filled with kids just getting out of school; uniforms directly from a Harry Potter movie.  A quick turn onto a market streetand then our hotel.We were beat after our 51 mile ride into the wind……we needed a plate (or three) of pasta; our first since arriving.

A (must eat crow) note to my father, who for years has insisted we ride the UK; my main objection was the poor food that England had a (terribly misplaced) reputation for.  Not only are we not starving, we are enjoying the food immensely….Thank You for your persistence. 

We hope our British friends are not offended, as we are enjoying your wonderful country, but we would like to wish our fellow Americans a Happy Independence Day, USA.

It was a warm morning with a brutal wind, 20+ with 30 mph gusts.  The ferry we needed to catch was only two blocks from our hotel,but the 19 Foot tide was out and there was not ramp down for our bikes.  We headed out of town directly into the wind for four miles to reach the bridge that would lead us over the canal. For 26 miles we faced the wind on busy roads; no small hamlets, villages or pretty countryside.  Each town blended into the next,  Homes showcased flowers and families walked their children to school; these twins were particularly adorable.We had another bridge to cross and the only way to get there was on a very busy highway with NO shoulder; we pedaled hard (18 mph-tough for our 60 pound loaded bikes and Tired legs) for five miles.  Just as soon as we crossed the River Welland, we dropped onto a very welcome country road; quiet was restored.Once again we could hear the birds sing, enjoy the countryside and with a turn in the road, the bruising wind reached our backs.

We reached Boston by one o’clock.  In search of a Sam Adams Lager, a bite to eat and some free Wi-Fi we headed to town centre.  Passing the impressive Church of St. Botolphwe found a corner pub.

Unfortunately, the darling pub satisfied only fish & chips of three requirements.  With our earlier start this morning, our plan was to check out a place to stay further down the road once we reached Boston.  However, after spending over two fruitless hours on the internet looking for a place 10-30 miles away, we decided to bunk here for the night; which took us another hour to find.  We checked into one of the last two rooms available in the entire town.  Little did we know, we would spend another three hours plus, looking for a place to stay for tomorrow night.  We think we’ve found something, unfortunately, not toward Lincoln (that we wanted to see), but there are NO choices.  Exhausted from our searching, we stopped to have dinner at 7:00.  Though we only rode 43 miles today, the endless searches on the internet wore us out. It should not be this difficult to find a place to stay and August is supposed to be busier. Hopefully, a good night’s rest will restore the spirit.

p,s.  For the record, we would much prefer an extra 10 to 20 miles, rather than spend hours looking for a blasted (English slate) hotel.