Having lost the pedals
United Kingdom | Scotland | Anno 1974
01 – Monday 19 August | Overpelt – Strombeek-Bever | 136 km
02 – Tuesday 20 August | Strombeek-Bever – Mariakerke | 140 km
03 – Wednesday 21 August | Mariakerke – Lydd | 68 km
04 – Thursday 22 August | Lydd
05 – Friday 23 August | Lydd – Heathfield/Uckfield | 82 km
06 – Saturday 24 August | Heathfield/Uckfield – Bracknell/Twyford | 114 km
07 – Sunday 25 August | Bracknell/Twyford – Oxford/Woodstock | 72 km
08 – Monday 26 August | Oxford/Woodstock – Stratford-upon-Avon | 60 km
09 – Tuesday 27 August | Stratford-upon-Avon – Uttoxeter | 117 km
10 – Wednesday 28 August | Uttoxeter – Glossop | 84 km
11 – Thursday 29 August | Glossop – Settle | 97 km
12 – Friday 30 August | Settle – Keld | 88 km
13 – Saturday 31 August | Keld
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01 – Monday 19 August | Overpelt – Strombeek-Bever | 136 km
A cycling trip from Belgium to Scotland, that’s what we have in mind. But truth be told, we're not entirely sure what we're getting into. We have ambitions to visit Wales, the Peak District, the Lake District, and the Scottish Highlands – all the way to John o’ Groats, one of the northernmost points of the island. We're talking several thousand kilometres, with all the essentials for food, drink, and sleeping packed onto our bike racks.
We've set aside four to five weeks for the adventure, and we'll document our journey on Super 8 film, a format that's more famous for its compact cassettes than for any superior image quality. Communication with home will be minimal – aside from the occasional postcard – because calling is far too expensive, and GPS or mobile phones for general use are still more than twenty years away from being commercially available.
Fully packed, it turns out that Jeans' bike weighs 48 kg, mine only 45 kg. We have a realistic sense that there will be plenty of mountains and valleys ahead, but we’re far less aware that our bikes aren’t really built for such a challenge. And our excessively heavy gear – complete with massive iron tent pegs, of all things – seems destined to take its toll.
(Too) heavily loaded |
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GoPro avant la lettre |
But we set those considerations aside with boundless enthusiasm. We leave Overpelt around ten o'clock. That the sun graciously spreads its rays over the Flemish landscape all day is a fortunate bonus.
GPS or mobile phones for general use are still more than twenty years away from being commercially available
The rugged Flemish roads aren’t exactly made for us. Our bikes are taking a beating. To such an extent that somewhere between Aarschot and Leuven, our homemade wooden luggage racks give out. It’s actually a stroke of luck, as it gives us the chance to set things right. In Heverlee, we dive into the workshop of our student dorm. We repair Jean’s luggage rack, and for me, we build an entirely new one out of thick planks, sturdy enough to withstand earthquakes and hurricanes. A few more kilos added, but we resign ourselves to it.
It's nearing eight in the evening when we reach our first stop in Strombeek-Bever. We're warmly welcomed at a classmate’s parents’ home, where we’ll spend the night. The late hour doesn't prevent us from heading into the heart of Brussels together. Just a quick night out before the real journey begins tomorrow.
02 – Tuesday 20 August | Strombeek-Bever – Mariakerke | 140 km
It’s already past ten by the time we leave Strombeek-Bever behind. In Grimbergen and Merchtem, the farmers have taken to the streets en masse. Not to cheer us on, we note with a hint of disappointment, but rather to voice their discontent with government policies. Between Ghent and Bruges, it’s the endless cobblestone roads that give us trouble. But our newly crafted luggage racks pass this first test with flying colours.
Time management isn’t exactly our strong suit yet
We can't skip Bruges. We head to the market square and marvel at the medieval centre with its impressive Belfry. Far too long, really, as time management isn’t exactly our strong suit yet. It’s already half past eight when we arrive at a campsite in Mariakerke. Mostly in the dark, we pitch our tent and cook a meal on our two-burner camping stove. By unanimous decision, Jean has been appointed as the official cook, a role he will fulfil excellently.
03 – Wednesday 21 August | Mariakerke – Lydd | 68 km
Lingering is out of the question this morning. At 10:20 am, the ferry from Ostend to Dover departs. Washing up, getting dressed, frying bacon and eggs, doing the dishes, clearing and dismantling the tent, packing gear, and loading it onto the bikes – this will now become our daily morning routine. Experience will soon teach us that, on average, it takes us about two hours to get it all done.
Ferry Ostend – Dover |
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White cliffs of Dover |
The ferry takes nearly four hours to cross the Channel. It’s a quarter past two when we dock at the Ferry Terminal in Dover. Our exploration of the United Kingdom can begin.
We’ll cycle in a wide arc around the metropolis, taking the western route northward
For now, we’re following the southern coast westward, deliberately avoiding busy London. Instead, we’ll cycle in a wide arc around the metropolis, taking the western route northward. Oxford, the Peak District, and the Lake District are on our agenda, while we’ll avoid industrial cities like Birmingham, Liverpool, and Manchester as much as possible. In a few weeks, we’ll return via the eastern route, passing through places like York, Cambridge, and finally London.
Dover – Ferry Terminal |
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Dover |
Cycling on the left side of the road takes some getting used to. It’s not that it’s particularly difficult, but it does require extra attention, especially at roundabouts or when making a right turn.
Via Folkestone, we end up in the tiny coastal village of Lydd, where we start looking for a suitable camping spot. For us, that means a place where we can pitch our tent for a night without it costing us a penny and without running into trouble with anyone. Wild camping, in other words.
Lydd |
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A deserted stretch of sand and gravel with a few patches of grass and a view of the sea perfectly fits our criteria. The fact that an imposing industrial installation looms on the horizon doesn’t bother us. Later, we’ll discover it’s the Dungeness nuclear power plant.
The British, as we’ll quickly learn, are strict about closing times – and many other things. By six o'clock, all stores are firmly shut
Foraging for supplies, though, isn’t our strong suit yet. The British, as we’ll quickly learn, are strict about closing times – and many other things. By six o'clock, all stores are firmly shut, which will be a constant challenge. Another concern is the spokes on our rear wheels. With all that weight, they’re taking quite a beating, so much so that a few spokes on my rear wheel have already broken. Tomorrow, getting those repaired will be our top priority.
04 – Thursday 22 August | Lydd
Our search for a bike repair shop leads us to New Romney, twelve kilometres back toward Dover. Lucky for us, we find a man with both a passion for his trade and real expertise. Those spokes won’t get you far, is his straightforward diagnosis. Replacing all the rear-wheel spokes with double-thick ones is the only sensible solution – a suggestion we gladly accept.
Replacing all the rear-wheel spokes with double-thick ones is the only sensible solution
We should have given Jean's rear wheel a preventive makeover as well, but that idea never occurs to us. An oversight that we will deeply regret in the coming weeks.
Around three in the afternoon, we pick up the bike. Packing up the tent and hitting the road again doesn’t make sense now, so it becomes a rest day, complete with a swim in the sea.
05 – Friday 23 August | Lydd – Heathfield/Uckfield | 82 km
Our fifth day already, yet we’ve only clocked 344 kilometres – including the detour back to New Romney. It’s high time we pick up the pace. Today, though, that might be easier said than done, as we have a bit of sightseeing ahead. A landmark like Hastings is impossible to pass by.
When the English king Edward died childless in 1066, trouble quickly brewed. Just before his death, Edward had promised the throne to William, Duke of Normandy across the Channel. But the Anglo-Saxons were unwilling to accept a foreigner – especially one descended from Vikings – on the English throne. Instead, they crowned their own Harold. William wasn’t about to let that stand. He crossed the Channel to claim what he modestly believed was rightfully his. In his wake followed 500 to 700 ships, loaded with troops, horses, and supplies.
The outcome of the Battle of Hastings in 1066 is well-known. Harold was defeated, and William became King of England, earning the fitting title William the Conqueror. Two years later, these events were recorded in a remarkable tapestry, which you can still admire today in Bayeux, France.
Interestingly, the Battle of Hastings wasn’t actually fought in Hastings, but at a site later aptly named Battle. There, at the command of Pope Alexander II, an abbey was built to commemorate the battle. The high altar of the abbey’s church is said to be located precisely where King Harold was killed.
Hastings Castle |
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Battle Abbey |
The Battle of Hastings wasn’t actually fought in Hastings, but at a site later aptly named Battle
To explore it all at a leisurely pace, we set out early. In Hastings, our first stop is St. Clements Caves. While they have nothing to do with the famous battle, they played a significant role during the Second World War, sheltering hundreds from German air raids.
But it’s Hastings Castle that interests us most. Immediately after his victory, William had a wooden fort constructed on a coastal hill. By 1070, he’d replaced it with a full-fledged castle, the ruins of which still stand today. From this windy perch, there’s a perfect view over land and sea.
Seeking out Battle Abbey, we finally leave the coast behind and head about ten kilometres inland. Gone are the flat coastal roads – the terrain is now hilly, a trend that will continue for the weeks to come.
Gone are the flat coastal roads – the terrain is now hilly, a trend that will continue for the weeks to come
Around the abbey, we wander and survey the meadows where the clashing of arms once rang out. In this peaceful, green landscape, it’s hard to imagine the bloody scene where four thousand English and two thousand Normans lost their lives.
Pitching the tent |
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Cooking a pot |
In the evening, we settle down with our tent in an orchard belonging to a hospitable farmer somewhere between Heathfield and Uckfield.
06 – Saturday 24 August | Heathfield/Uckfield – Bracknell/Twyford | 114 km
Today is going to be a day for some serious cycling. The hilly terrain won’t change that. However, it’s the strict closing hours that will pose a challenge for us. From Saturday afternoon to Monday morning, all the shops are completely shut. This is quite inconvenient because it means we need to stock up thoroughly every Saturday morning for two lunches, two warm dinners, and two breakfasts. Our supplies bag isn’t equipped for that, and we don’t have a cooler on board to keep everything fresh either.
Wind in the sails |
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Lunch |
We make good progress through Billingshurst and Guildford toward Bracknell. Further on, heading to Twyford, we get the kind permission from a horse breeder to set up our tent on his estate. This places us at roughly the same latitude as London, over fifty kilometres to the west. We can now consider our wide arc around the capital complete.
07 – Sunday 25 August | Bracknell/Twyford – Oxford/Woodstock | 72 km
The journey to Wallingford goes smoothly, but that good fortune doesn’t last long- my bike chain breaks. Apparently, there are bike mechanics willing to lend a hand on a Sunday, even in England. However, getting the new chain isn’t without its difficulties. The mechanic struggles with our language – he calls our chatter continental English.
Next June, the British will get to vote on whether or not they want to remain part of the EEC
It’s clear that they don’t hold Europe in high regard here. For them, Europe is the folks across the Channel, as the British don’t consider themselves Europeans. The United Kingdom only joined the European Economic Community on 1 January of last year. But in the meantime, socialists led by Harold Wilson have come to power, and they question that membership. A referendum will provide clarity. Next June, the British will be able to voice their opinion on whether they want to belong to the EEC.
We don't let it get to us and continue cycling northward to Oxford, the city on the Thames with its prestigious university. This is the oldest university in England, where teaching has taken place since 1096. In Cambridge, they would have to wait more than a century for their own university to be established, which notably emerged around students who fled Oxford after a lynching incident.
Oxford – Christ Church – Tom Tower |
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Oxford – All Souls College |
With our heads tilted back, we stroll through a city that unfolds like a vast open-air museum
With our heads tilted back, we stroll through a city that unfolds like a vast open-air museum. The colleges and chapels seem endless, along with the tidy courtyards and narrow alleys, the surprising vistas, and the delicate spires, the towers with their rose windows, and the facades adorned with pointed arches.
One highlight is Christ Church College, one of the wealthiest colleges in the city, featuring its octagonal Tom Tower. This bell tower gets its name and fame from Great Tom, a hefty bell weighing over six tons. It is the loudest bell in Oxford, and every seasoned visitor can attest to that.
When it comes to prestige, All Souls College certainly holds its own against Christ Church College. Here, though, the centrepiece is the Codrington Library – a historic library housing a rich collection of books from before 1800.
Oxford – Merton College – Chapel |
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Oxford – Merton College – Dead Man’s Walk |
For over seven centuries, female students have been barred from this institution
Amidst idyllic greenery at the edge of the university district, we come across Merton College. For over seven centuries, female students have been barred from this institution. In the male stronghold that is Oxford, Merton College isn’t even an exception in this regard. It won’t be until about five years, in 1979, that this will gradually begin to change.
Oxford – Magdalene College – Chapel |
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Oxford – View through |
In the late afternoon, we continue our journey to Woodstock. It is here that Winston Churchill was born in the impressive Blenheim Palace. Our spot for the night is a bit less luxurious – an orange tent pitched beside the road.
08 – Monday 26 August | Oxford/Woodstock – Stratford-upon-Avon | 60 km
All night long, the rain drums on the tent canopy. It’s a gloomy affair to have to pack up your tent in pouring rain in the morning. You can hardly keep anything dry, the wet stuff is even heavier than usual. As if the devil is playing with it, the rain stops and the sun breaks through the clouds as soon as we are fully packed and back in the saddle.
It’s a gloomy affair to have to pack up your tent in pouring rain in the morning
Stratford-upon-Avon is a place that few would know of if it weren’t for one William Shakespeare, who was born here in 1564. He is hailed as the greatest writer England has ever produced, a man who effortlessly wove timeless and universal themes into his work.
Stratford-upon-Avon |
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Compared to Shakespeare's themes, the issues we're dealing with are rather mundane – one broken spoke after another in Jean's rear wheel. But today is Bank Holiday, we discover after a brief inquiry. This day is even more sacred than Sunday, so no bike mechanic will be willing to help us with the wheel. We'll have to wait until tomorrow. In the meantime, we wander around the town and visit that famous birthplace.
A vacant lot near the train station becomes our spot for the night. Once again, it rains cheerfully as we set up our tent. It’s the same story as this morning – nothing stays dry – but in reverse order. Oddly enough, the pillows on both air mattresses have started leaking simultaneously. From now on, we'll have to make do with folded clothing as makeshift pillows. Hopefully, the other compartments of the mattresses will hold up better.
09 – Tuesday 27 August | Stratford-upon-Avon – Uttoxeter | 117 km
A bright sun greets us upon waking, giving us the best hopes for the rest of the day. But first, we need to get that wheel repaired. Precisely at noon, we can finally leave Stratford-upon-Avon behind. We take a winding route north through Warwick, Coventry, and Tamworth, skirting around Birmingham.
As we continue, Jean’s rear wheel starts to act up again. Our morning optimism was clearly premature. To make matters worse, we learn that there will be no bike mechanics along our planned route. A detour through Uttoxeter becomes necessary. There, we camp on vacant municipal land, awaiting another visit to a bike mechanic.
10 – Wednesday 28 August | Uttoxeter – Glossop | 84 km
We use the short stopover to solve a few logistical issues – exchanging our empty 1.8 kg Camping Gaz butane bottle for a full one, and exchanging Belgian francs for British pounds.
In the Alps, they would no doubt have a good laugh at what they call "peaks" here
Then we continue on toward Ashbourne, also known as the Gateway to the Peak District. This is the United Kingdom's oldest national park and is especially known for its many hills – hence the name. Although people in the Alps would no doubt have a good laugh at what they call peaks here, for a heavily laden cyclist, these hills of six to seven hundred meters are quite a challenge. But that is exactly one of the reasons we came here – the beautiful landscapes and stunning vistas. Even the weather is on our side, with the sun shining continuously.
Peak District |
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Not that we necessarily aim to scale the highest peaks. Fortunately, our route to Glossop takes us over the gentler folds northward, with a single climb to 450 meters just past Buxton as the highest point. Altogether, we gather over nine hundred meters in altitude. In hindsight, this will turn out to be the most challenging ride in terms of terrain. In the meantime it turns out that our supply bag has given up the ghost.
It's a bit of an adjustment for us, a pub where common folk and the local high society each choose their own side
In Glossop, we settle down on a vacant lot. But not before – for the very first time – visiting one of those famous pubs that the British are so proud of. We feel we've earned it. It’s a bit of an adjustment, though, a pub where the common folk and the local high society each choose their own side, with the bartender standing neatly neutral in the middle.
And there we are, waiting for him to come and take our order. It takes a while before the penny drops, and we realise we have to place our order at the bar ourselves.
11 – Thursday 29 August | Glossop – Settle | 97 km
Liverpool, Manchester, Sheffield, Leeds – it's hard to call these places a cycling paradise. We carefully weave our way through the industrial centres. But the hope of avoiding grim urban neighbourhoods proves to be an illusion. It takes two hours before rural England embraces us once again.
A friendly bike mechanic has a golden tip for us
Through Rochdale and Burnley, we head northward over hilly terrain toward Nelson. Yet, the spokes on Jean’s rear wheel seem to held up without a problem. And that’s been going on for twenty-four hours, just imagine. It makes us suspicious. But then there are still some certainties in life. In Nelson, the spokes finally give out – two of them at once. Still, we’re in luck. A friendly bike mechanic quickly replaces the broken ones. And he even has a golden tip for us, pointing out a fairly flat back road to Settle – though one might argue about how flat fairly flat really is.
As if so much good fortune wasn’t meant for us, yet another spoke on Jean’s rear wheel breaks in Settle.
Our plan to pitch our tent on the grounds of the local dairy in Settle is met with no objections from the foreman. On the contrary, he generously brings over two one-litre cartons of milk. It’s a kind gesture that we gratefully accept, a little consolation for yet another spoke that will need repairing in the morning.
12 – Friday 30 August | Settle – Keld | 88 km
All night long, the howling wind tugs at our tent, but the ropes and iron stakes hold firm. In the morning, we set out straightaway in search of Settle’s bike shop. However, they don’t do repairs there. Instead, they refer us to a certain Mr. Lawson in nearby Giggleswick. While waiting for the repair, we pass the time once again by stocking up on supplies.
Yorkshire Dales |
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Here, rural England reveals itself in its iconic landscapes, with rolling green hills, rugged farmhouses, and centuries-old stone walls
At precisely noon, the wheel is ready – completely free of charge, and they even give us a set of spare spokes. Ah, the British. Sometimes a bit reserved, but often heartwarmingly friendly and helpful.
From Settle, we head northward through the Ribble Valley. Before us stretch the Yorkshire Dales, a national park. Here, rural England reveals itself in its iconic landscapes, with rolling green hills, rugged farmhouses, and centuries-old stone walls.
Ingleton, Kirkby Lonsdale, Kendal… the journey flows more smoothly now, despite the stubborn hills. Kendal proudly calls itself The Gateway to the Lakes. Although Lake District National Park, with an area of 2,362 km², contains sixteen lakes, many mountain peaks still rise above nine hundred meters. We would have loved to make a detour through this beautiful region, but we don’t dare to anymore.
So, we ignore the Lakes and follow the A6 due north, toward Carlisle, the last major English city before the Scottish border. Even that isn’t easy. A steady wind blows against us from the north as we climb to an altitude of 420 meters. Fortunately, it's sunny, with only light clouds in the sky.
Lake District |
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Tent on the banks of the Lowther in Keld |
A new challenge looms ahead – and quite a serious one. At the very top, Jean’s right pedal breaks off. Pedalling uphill with only one pedal is impossible, even for Jean. Thankfully, it’s downhill in both directions. Now we’re faced with a tough decision. Do we return to Kendal, where we’re almost certain to find a bike shop? Or do we take our chances heading further north to tiny Shap, nestled among the hills, with all the risks that entails? Climbing this long hill a second time tomorrow doesn’t sound appealing. Against better judgment, we continue onward.
The long descent to Shap is a breeze, even with only one pedal. And we must be born under a lucky star, because no sooner do we reach the main street – the village’s only street, in fact –than we spot a child’s bike for sale on the sidewalk outside a shop. Problem solved! Tomorrow, we’ll be able to get the pedal repaired at that bike shop. That was a narrow escape.
That was a narrow escape
Searching for a quiet spot to camp for the night, we end up in Keld, a hamlet just outside Shap. We pitch our tent on the banks of the Lowther River. Sweeping aside hundreds of sheep droppings first is the least of our concerns.
13 – Saturday 31 August | Keld
No, this isn’t a bike shop, the friendly shopkeeper in Shap explains, this is a general store where you can buy a bit of everything. And what about the child’s bike for sale on the sidewalk outside? Well, that’s a tentative attempt to see if there’s a market for bikes in this mountainous area. So, where can we find a real bike mechanic? Sorry to say, he adds reluctantly, but you won’t find one anywhere in this valley.
We have to take a moment to let that sink in. We’re in a basin between two substantial hills, one of our bikes has only one pedal, and there’s not a bike repair shop in sight. It feels like we’re stuck here for good.
Jaak Palmans
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