After a good night’s sleep I got packed up quite early despite a damp tent from the overnight rain however with the added bonus of the being able to get a ‘Breakfast Box’ from the shop meant I wouldn’t have to cook and clean which saved me best part of an hour. 
In some ways I would rather have wasted a bit of time, if I had I wouldn’t have come across the A***hole Farmer down the back lane into Lee. After refuelling in Woolacombe I headed down into the village and through on to Mortenhoe.
After which I headed down into Lee, a beautiful little seaside village unfortunately just before I reached there I turned a corner on a steep and narrow, downhill part of the lane. I was about 15-20 yards after the corner and this large tractor was coming the other way with this guy waving his arms, he had kept on coming past one passing place and in fairness if I had been in a car I would have backed up. I tried to pull it back but the slope was just too much for me to pull a 340kg bike back up and I tried to explain it too him, by hand gestures (polite at this stage) he just seemed to get madder and madder and even lowered the front spiked grab on the front and tried to bully me back.
At which point I switched the motor off, put it on the side stand and took my helmet off, still with my foot on the back brake so it wouldn’t roll forward and I shouted to him again, that the bike was too damn heavy to pull back up that slope and duhh! When he ever heard of a bike with reverse, he then got half out of his cab and started swearing at me and threatening me with his dog, all of which in an ESSEX accent sorry people from Essex but this guy did you no favours, in all the time I have been doing this ride I have not had an issue with any farmer I have been courteous and polite, I live on a farming estate so I know what it is all about but this guy was something else. He was not from the area, and gave the locals, farmers in general and the people of Essex (if that is where he comes from) a bad name and the farmer at the farm I stayed at, that night's response when I told him the tale was ‘ Well there you go then’ So I had this Pratt at the start and then I was rewarded by meeting a really great bloke as I set up camp in the evening.
Eventually he realised it was a case of ‘Squaddie Bingo’ or a Mexican Stand–Off he wasn’t going to win as I could actually spend all day doing this, were he had work to do. He then relented pulled back down the lane for 30-40 yards and pulled in and I went on my way with his curses following me, one of which came true a bit later. I hope he had a bad day as well, so there. In fact mine turned out pretty well.
After this little escapade I wasn’t sure whether to stay mad or laugh about it, I chose the latter as I had this opportunity to have another pop at him. 'The pen is mightier tham the sword' etc.
From Lee it is out through Lincombe and Lower Slade before riding into Ilfracombe one of the most notable images was passing a hotel near the town centre that was obviously the base for a number of ‘older’ bikers for the weekend with a mixture of newer and 50’s machinery they seemed to be gathering before the off when I rode by and in unison they turned and waved as I rode by, one thing you will always notice is a kind of brethren amongst riders, if you stop on the side of the road and look as if you need help another biker will always stop and check on you, they always acknowledge each other with a wave or a nod as you pass each other, on a busy Bank Holiday like this you can end up with a sore neck.
I stopped to take the following photo of a group out celebrating the May Bank Holiday.
It was then on to the A399 and a lovely relatively high speed run round by Watermouth Bay before taking a back lane called Shute Lane, just as I came into Combe Martin. It is a very step climb to begin with before getting out on to the top and Exmoor National Park, the views were great in places. Throught he villages of Trentishoe and Martinshoe.
Then taking the Toll road from Woody Bay to Lynton and WOW! The views are spectacular on this section.Towards Woody Bay in the valley below.
Literally a 200ft plus drop from the roadside.
Looking back along the cliffs I had just ridden.
It was then down into Lynton where the curse of the 'Essex' idiot came to pass, he wished that I would fall off and I kind of did.
Where the B3234 from Lynton meets the A39 it is a U turn on a gradient of 25% approx made all the more difficult with a STOP sign in the middle, so you are halfway round the bend then you have to stop. Well I got most of the way and then my foot slipped on some loose gravel. That was just enough for 340kg of bike to lean over too far and I just thought sod it, I’m not giving myself a hernia and I let her go down in as slow and graceful way as possible. It still meant the revs hit the limit before I hit the kill switch and started swearing about the idiot who designed this road junction.
As I mentioned previously about the kinship amongst bikers, the first guy on the scene, in fact, had watched me drop the bike as he rode up out of Lynmouth, immediately stopped and was getting off his bike and running over the road to help me when I thanked him but waved him away as I picked ‘My Baby’ back up with much embarrassment., Thankfully I had let her down so gently apart from my pride the only damage, was a small scratch on the left hand pannier and I mean small it is less than 3 inches long.
After all that I just wanted to get on my way and not stop where any of the car drivers who had witnessed my faux pas could come up and remind me about it.
The A39 climbs out of Lymouth and on towards Minehead, it was quite nice to spend some time riding the nice sweeping roads, however as I approached Porlock, there is a large sign which warns of the steep bends to get into the Village and there is another Toll Road that would take me there on another route. I took this option and once again well worth it, far better views, quieter roads and I was closer to the coast.
It brought me down into Porlock Weir. Which is a beautifully quaint little village unfortunately with the economy as it is the main Hotel is closed whilst the Estate that owns this part of the coast try to find someone to run it. I took the opportunity to stop and have a cup of coffee and a snack, and watch some of the tourists that had driven down to the point and also offer to take a picture of 3 guys who were riding down to Lands End, having travelled from Northern Ireland on their bikes. Hope you guys got home safely.
At this stage it had become quite grey and the wind was far from warm and I hoped this wasn’t going to be the way it would remain for the rest of the day. I shouldn’t have worried by the time I got to Minehead it was bright sunshine again.
Running down the front was quite pleasant but full of the usual British tackiness especially as you get further down towards the large Butlins Holiday camp. Skirting it I went out again on to the A39 for a short stretch past Dunster Castle my 13th. So at the moment Castles are just beating Airfields although this may not last very long giving what I know is coming up in the next few sections. There has been a castle at the top of the hill at Dunster for more than 1,000 years. The Domesday Book records one on this location before 1066. The castle was granted by William the Conqueror to William de Mohun, whose family lived there until the castle was sold in 1376 by Lady Joan de Mohun to Lady Elizabeth Luttrell. Lady Elizabeth's descendants owned Dunster Castle until 1976.
The castle dominates a steep hill overlooking the picturesque village of Dunster. The hill has been fortified since Saxon times, although nothing now remains of these early defences. During the early medieval period the sea reached the base of the hill offering a natural defence, and strong walls, towers, ramparts and outworks protected the other sides. During the Civil War, Dunster was a Royalist stronghold under the command of Colonel Wyndham. In November 1645 Parliamentary forces started a siege which lasted until an honourable surrender of the castle in April 1646. Dunster shared the fate of many other Royalist castles and had its defences demolished to prevent any further use against Parliament. All that now remains of the medieval fortifications are the impressive gatehouse and the stumps of two towers
I turned off down the B3191 to the wonderfully named Blue Anchor and then Watchet, I had been noticing a series of vintage and veteran buses being run up and down the coast road for the last hour or so and was wondering what was going on, it turned out that there was something running in conjunction with the Steam Rail society as trains were coming into Watchet and then passengers were then transferring to the buses to continue the experience.
Along with the pre-2nd world war London bus there was also one in similar condition from Ipswich. I took the back lane out via Donniford which afforded me a great view of one of the steam trains actually coming down through a cutting a wonderful sight, unfortunately I wasn’t in a position to stop and take a picture, it would have been a good one though.
I pushed on to rejoin the A39 and then back on to back lanes at Kilve, I was really pleased with my progress, it was now just after 2.30pm and I was hoping to get up somewhere North of Bristol and on the way to Gloucester before I had to find a campsite for the night. These back lanes although very picturesque were nothing spectacular in comparison to what I had encountered previously.
This area of the Somerset levels are flat farm land and mainly turned over to cattle it appeared. I have to note I also met the other side of the farming coin and the one I am more accustomed to. I came around a corner near Stolford to see a small terrier running down the road in front of me, by its state it was obviously a farm animal, he then disappeared through a gate and headed off across a field, on turning the next corner I was met with the sight of an iron bar across the road and a herd of cows walking slowly from one field to another either on the way or way back from milking. I pulled up and switched off the motor to wait but after a few minutes the young farmer that was looking after the herd, stopped them and pulled the bar back so I could get on my way. Which he didn’t have to do I was quite happy sitting there, just as I was about to get under way, the terrier reappeared and mad a big fuss of the farmer, obviously the dog had thought he had lost his master and was really pleased to see him again.
Back on my way it was now a case of heading inland up the estuary to Bridgwater before coming back out on the other side up the A38 towards Highbridge, even with a couple of detours down back lanes I was soon in and out again of Highbridge down the B3139 to Burnham on Sea, Berrow, the wonderful Burnham and Berrow Golf Club, before entering Brean, after all the class of Burnham and Berrow you are met with Tat City compounded by the Pontins complex. It was clean and well maintained, but it is the loud music blarring from café’s and amusement arcades etc. I must sound like a real snob, it’s just that sort of holiday does nothing for me.
After a slow ride through the back lanes towards Weston Super Mare, following a long line of cars. I get on to the A370 into town, I was very torn when I see the signs for the Helicopter Museum I really wanted to go there however I knew if I did, that would be the day over. It is meant to the leading Helicopter Museum in Europe if not the World and is well worth a visit. It is based on the old Weston Airport, which I have some history with. That and the former RAF base just up the road at RAF Locking.
I joined the RAF in 1970 as a Ground Comms Apprentice at RAF Locking, I had an air experience flight from Weston in an old Varsity. I also joined the gliding club that was attached to the base and had some great fun. I didn’t complete the course transferring out of there some 10 months later when I re-traded and was posted to a base that I would also pass by during this weekend.
The A370 soon becomes the sea front and there was a huge amount of traffic particularly by the old burnt our pier. I had planned to stop but was struggling to find a space, then all of a sudden I spotted a number of bikes and a sign which highlighted the fact they had set up a temporary parking area purely for motorbikes, which allowed me to park up, have something to drink and use the nearby conveniences, before getting back on the bike and heading off to Kewstoke. It was only then that I discovered that Weston actually has two piers the second of which is even more in need of repair than the one that burnt down last year.
It was a fairly quick and uneventful ride through Wick St Lawrence before crossing the M5 for the first time. Before joining the A370 to Congresbury before heading back towards Yatton and re-crossing the M5.
Again using the back lanes into Clevedon, Redcliff bay and into Portishead. I didn’t know quite what to expect but Portishead is a very up market suburb of Bristol, I may not have visited all parts but what parts I did see were ‘well heeled’. Also on the ride in to Portishead I was able to get a great picture on the way in. 
It show the way to where I would be staying that night, more of that later, however you can just make out the Severn Crossings in the distance but I wouldn’t be going near them until tomorrow afternoon.
After refuelling in Portishead and getting some fluids down me, it was well gone 4.30, so I decided that I would ride until about 6.00pm and then get a campsite, which given my current progress would mean somewhere this side Gloucester, so my early guesstimates for the day wasn’t far off.
I soon came across the M5 once again, crossing it near to the Gordano Services before taking the A369 into Bristol and hen coming out again on the A4176 which becomes the A4, That ride was very, very enjoyable, mainly because of the company, two guys on Sports Bike and one on a custom Harley, each time we stopped at lights we had a chat, secondly they rode as my ‘out riders’ into Bristol, thanks guys, it was great fun, the car drivers must have wondered what was going on at times.
They split off towards the City Centre I went down the Avon Gorge.
Looking back and then forward.
I won’t go into much detail after this because in the main it was Industrial Estate for the next few miles until I passed Aust and got on the back lanes to Liitleton and then Oldbury on Severn, the temperature was starting to drop but I was pushing on. I has looked at an Ordnance Survey map which told me I might find something close to the Slimbridge Bird Sanctuary, what I didn’t realise on the way was how developed Sharpness as a port was.
However before that I seemed to have come across 4 Nuclear Power Stations. Two had been passed and two more to come in the next hour. Hinkley Point B is one of four nuclear power stations in the area, the others being the adjacent Hinkley Point A together with Oldbury and Berkeley on the banks of the River Severn. Two of which are still producing electricity the other two in various stages of de-commissioning.
There are some really beautiful sites in this country one of which are our churches, now don’t get me wrong if anything I am anti-religion, yet the architectural beauty of some of these buildings is breathtaking. Coming into Oldbury on Severn, I was brought to a halt by the following sight. The countryside in this area is very flat and I had been confused by a signpost a bit earlier that seemed to say Oldbury Hill in fact there are no hills, it was actually pointing the way to Oldury and the Village of Hill just up the road.
It was now coming up to 5.30 and I wanted to find a campsite. I notice from my larger Ordnance Survey map there was a campsite at Slimbridge so I decide to head for there after a quick loop around Sharpness, which took longer than planned due, to road being either closed due to subsidence of the Port Authority had blocked a road off for some reason.
Unfortunately when I got there it was a sign to say that the Warden finished at 5pm and the site was full, which is a shame as it looked a real quality site, however if I had satyed there I would have missed the great experience of staying where I did. Heading back onto the A38 to travel North again I passed another site however given the fact it was on a main road it looked full as well, it also looked quite noisy so I decided to give it a miss. I was certain I would find something else shortly, how wrong I was.
Off the A38 again I turned down towards the river again and Frampton then Fretherne, Upper Framilode before coming back through Elmore and then the Gloucester suburb of it was then a quick run through the city centre before coming back out on the A40 and then A48. It was now close to 6.30pm and there was no sign of somewhere to stay, to I decided that if I couldn’t find a campsite I would settle for a B&B or even better a pub with accommodation.
The first pub I tried was in Blakeney, without success then two in Lydney, one looked very popular the other two came across that they couldn’t be bothered, obviously they were probably empty and to open a room just for me would be a pain.
It was now coming up to 7.30pm and I had decided to push onto to Chepstow and find somewhere there. Just at that moment as I entered Alvington I saw a sign for a campsite 1 mile up a back road from the village. Patience had paid off, after the way the morning started with one farmer it ended being greeted by another, this time a gentleman.
I cannot recommend this campsite and B&B high enough, it is wonderful and run by a wonderful family. Stuart and Teresa Taylor of Beanhill Farm
The campsite is to the right of the farmhouse and a dedicated amenities block has been added since this photo. If you are considering visiting this part of the world and want somewhere to stay have a look at this site before you consider anywhere else. http://www.beanhillfarm.co.uk/index.htm
Arriving late I then went on to make a mess of putting my tent up as I spent half my time talking with Stuart and wasn’t concentrating, I finally go things sorted and got set up to cook something to eat, which in the end I finally ate in the dark, thankfully I had the remains of a bottle of wine with me to wash it down with before cleaning up and getting into my sleeping bag.
Take care and as Mick says ‘You don’t stop riding when you get old, you stop when you finally get a campsite again!’
In some ways I would rather have wasted a bit of time, if I had I wouldn’t have come across the A***hole Farmer down the back lane into Lee. After refuelling in Woolacombe I headed down into the village and through on to Mortenhoe.After which I headed down into Lee, a beautiful little seaside village unfortunately just before I reached there I turned a corner on a steep and narrow, downhill part of the lane. I was about 15-20 yards after the corner and this large tractor was coming the other way with this guy waving his arms, he had kept on coming past one passing place and in fairness if I had been in a car I would have backed up. I tried to pull it back but the slope was just too much for me to pull a 340kg bike back up and I tried to explain it too him, by hand gestures (polite at this stage) he just seemed to get madder and madder and even lowered the front spiked grab on the front and tried to bully me back.At which point I switched the motor off, put it on the side stand and took my helmet off, still with my foot on the back brake so it wouldn’t roll forward and I shouted to him again, that the bike was too damn heavy to pull back up that slope and duhh! When he ever heard of a bike with reverse, he then got half out of his cab and started swearing at me and threatening me with his dog, all of which in an ESSEX accent sorry people from Essex but this guy did you no favours, in all the time I have been doing this ride I have not had an issue with any farmer I have been courteous and polite, I live on a farming estate so I know what it is all about but this guy was something else. He was not from the area, and gave the locals, farmers in general and the people of Essex (if that is where he comes from) a bad name and the farmer at the farm I stayed at, that night's response when I told him the tale was ‘ Well there you go then’ So I had this Pratt at the start and then I was rewarded by meeting a really great bloke as I set up camp in the evening.
Eventually he realised it was a case of ‘Squaddie Bingo’ or a Mexican Stand–Off he wasn’t going to win as I could actually spend all day doing this, were he had work to do. He then relented pulled back down the lane for 30-40 yards and pulled in and I went on my way with his curses following me, one of which came true a bit later. I hope he had a bad day as well, so there. In fact mine turned out pretty well.
After this little escapade I wasn’t sure whether to stay mad or laugh about it, I chose the latter as I had this opportunity to have another pop at him. 'The pen is mightier tham the sword' etc.
From Lee it is out through Lincombe and Lower Slade before riding into Ilfracombe one of the most notable images was passing a hotel near the town centre that was obviously the base for a number of ‘older’ bikers for the weekend with a mixture of newer and 50’s machinery they seemed to be gathering before the off when I rode by and in unison they turned and waved as I rode by, one thing you will always notice is a kind of brethren amongst riders, if you stop on the side of the road and look as if you need help another biker will always stop and check on you, they always acknowledge each other with a wave or a nod as you pass each other, on a busy Bank Holiday like this you can end up with a sore neck.
I stopped to take the following photo of a group out celebrating the May Bank Holiday.
It was then on to the A399 and a lovely relatively high speed run round by Watermouth Bay before taking a back lane called Shute Lane, just as I came into Combe Martin. It is a very step climb to begin with before getting out on to the top and Exmoor National Park, the views were great in places. Throught he villages of Trentishoe and Martinshoe.Then taking the Toll road from Woody Bay to Lynton and WOW! The views are spectacular on this section.Towards Woody Bay in the valley below.
Literally a 200ft plus drop from the roadside.Looking back along the cliffs I had just ridden.
It was then down into Lynton where the curse of the 'Essex' idiot came to pass, he wished that I would fall off and I kind of did.Where the B3234 from Lynton meets the A39 it is a U turn on a gradient of 25% approx made all the more difficult with a STOP sign in the middle, so you are halfway round the bend then you have to stop. Well I got most of the way and then my foot slipped on some loose gravel. That was just enough for 340kg of bike to lean over too far and I just thought sod it, I’m not giving myself a hernia and I let her go down in as slow and graceful way as possible. It still meant the revs hit the limit before I hit the kill switch and started swearing about the idiot who designed this road junction.
As I mentioned previously about the kinship amongst bikers, the first guy on the scene, in fact, had watched me drop the bike as he rode up out of Lynmouth, immediately stopped and was getting off his bike and running over the road to help me when I thanked him but waved him away as I picked ‘My Baby’ back up with much embarrassment., Thankfully I had let her down so gently apart from my pride the only damage, was a small scratch on the left hand pannier and I mean small it is less than 3 inches long.
After all that I just wanted to get on my way and not stop where any of the car drivers who had witnessed my faux pas could come up and remind me about it.
The A39 climbs out of Lymouth and on towards Minehead, it was quite nice to spend some time riding the nice sweeping roads, however as I approached Porlock, there is a large sign which warns of the steep bends to get into the Village and there is another Toll Road that would take me there on another route. I took this option and once again well worth it, far better views, quieter roads and I was closer to the coast.
It brought me down into Porlock Weir. Which is a beautifully quaint little village unfortunately with the economy as it is the main Hotel is closed whilst the Estate that owns this part of the coast try to find someone to run it. I took the opportunity to stop and have a cup of coffee and a snack, and watch some of the tourists that had driven down to the point and also offer to take a picture of 3 guys who were riding down to Lands End, having travelled from Northern Ireland on their bikes. Hope you guys got home safely. At this stage it had become quite grey and the wind was far from warm and I hoped this wasn’t going to be the way it would remain for the rest of the day. I shouldn’t have worried by the time I got to Minehead it was bright sunshine again.Running down the front was quite pleasant but full of the usual British tackiness especially as you get further down towards the large Butlins Holiday camp. Skirting it I went out again on to the A39 for a short stretch past Dunster Castle my 13th. So at the moment Castles are just beating Airfields although this may not last very long giving what I know is coming up in the next few sections. There has been a castle at the top of the hill at Dunster for more than 1,000 years. The Domesday Book records one on this location before 1066. The castle was granted by William the Conqueror to William de Mohun, whose family lived there until the castle was sold in 1376 by Lady Joan de Mohun to Lady Elizabeth Luttrell. Lady Elizabeth's descendants owned Dunster Castle until 1976.
The castle dominates a steep hill overlooking the picturesque village of Dunster. The hill has been fortified since Saxon times, although nothing now remains of these early defences. During the early medieval period the sea reached the base of the hill offering a natural defence, and strong walls, towers, ramparts and outworks protected the other sides. During the Civil War, Dunster was a Royalist stronghold under the command of Colonel Wyndham. In November 1645 Parliamentary forces started a siege which lasted until an honourable surrender of the castle in April 1646. Dunster shared the fate of many other Royalist castles and had its defences demolished to prevent any further use against Parliament. All that now remains of the medieval fortifications are the impressive gatehouse and the stumps of two towers
I turned off down the B3191 to the wonderfully named Blue Anchor and then Watchet, I had been noticing a series of vintage and veteran buses being run up and down the coast road for the last hour or so and was wondering what was going on, it turned out that there was something running in conjunction with the Steam Rail society as trains were coming into Watchet and then passengers were then transferring to the buses to continue the experience.
Along with the pre-2nd world war London bus there was also one in similar condition from Ipswich. I took the back lane out via Donniford which afforded me a great view of one of the steam trains actually coming down through a cutting a wonderful sight, unfortunately I wasn’t in a position to stop and take a picture, it would have been a good one though.I pushed on to rejoin the A39 and then back on to back lanes at Kilve, I was really pleased with my progress, it was now just after 2.30pm and I was hoping to get up somewhere North of Bristol and on the way to Gloucester before I had to find a campsite for the night. These back lanes although very picturesque were nothing spectacular in comparison to what I had encountered previously.
This area of the Somerset levels are flat farm land and mainly turned over to cattle it appeared. I have to note I also met the other side of the farming coin and the one I am more accustomed to. I came around a corner near Stolford to see a small terrier running down the road in front of me, by its state it was obviously a farm animal, he then disappeared through a gate and headed off across a field, on turning the next corner I was met with the sight of an iron bar across the road and a herd of cows walking slowly from one field to another either on the way or way back from milking. I pulled up and switched off the motor to wait but after a few minutes the young farmer that was looking after the herd, stopped them and pulled the bar back so I could get on my way. Which he didn’t have to do I was quite happy sitting there, just as I was about to get under way, the terrier reappeared and mad a big fuss of the farmer, obviously the dog had thought he had lost his master and was really pleased to see him again.
Back on my way it was now a case of heading inland up the estuary to Bridgwater before coming back out on the other side up the A38 towards Highbridge, even with a couple of detours down back lanes I was soon in and out again of Highbridge down the B3139 to Burnham on Sea, Berrow, the wonderful Burnham and Berrow Golf Club, before entering Brean, after all the class of Burnham and Berrow you are met with Tat City compounded by the Pontins complex. It was clean and well maintained, but it is the loud music blarring from café’s and amusement arcades etc. I must sound like a real snob, it’s just that sort of holiday does nothing for me.
After a slow ride through the back lanes towards Weston Super Mare, following a long line of cars. I get on to the A370 into town, I was very torn when I see the signs for the Helicopter Museum I really wanted to go there however I knew if I did, that would be the day over. It is meant to the leading Helicopter Museum in Europe if not the World and is well worth a visit. It is based on the old Weston Airport, which I have some history with. That and the former RAF base just up the road at RAF Locking.
I joined the RAF in 1970 as a Ground Comms Apprentice at RAF Locking, I had an air experience flight from Weston in an old Varsity. I also joined the gliding club that was attached to the base and had some great fun. I didn’t complete the course transferring out of there some 10 months later when I re-traded and was posted to a base that I would also pass by during this weekend.
The A370 soon becomes the sea front and there was a huge amount of traffic particularly by the old burnt our pier. I had planned to stop but was struggling to find a space, then all of a sudden I spotted a number of bikes and a sign which highlighted the fact they had set up a temporary parking area purely for motorbikes, which allowed me to park up, have something to drink and use the nearby conveniences, before getting back on the bike and heading off to Kewstoke. It was only then that I discovered that Weston actually has two piers the second of which is even more in need of repair than the one that burnt down last year.
It was a fairly quick and uneventful ride through Wick St Lawrence before crossing the M5 for the first time. Before joining the A370 to Congresbury before heading back towards Yatton and re-crossing the M5.
Again using the back lanes into Clevedon, Redcliff bay and into Portishead. I didn’t know quite what to expect but Portishead is a very up market suburb of Bristol, I may not have visited all parts but what parts I did see were ‘well heeled’. Also on the ride in to Portishead I was able to get a great picture on the way in. It show the way to where I would be staying that night, more of that later, however you can just make out the Severn Crossings in the distance but I wouldn’t be going near them until tomorrow afternoon.After refuelling in Portishead and getting some fluids down me, it was well gone 4.30, so I decided that I would ride until about 6.00pm and then get a campsite, which given my current progress would mean somewhere this side Gloucester, so my early guesstimates for the day wasn’t far off.
I soon came across the M5 once again, crossing it near to the Gordano Services before taking the A369 into Bristol and hen coming out again on the A4176 which becomes the A4, That ride was very, very enjoyable, mainly because of the company, two guys on Sports Bike and one on a custom Harley, each time we stopped at lights we had a chat, secondly they rode as my ‘out riders’ into Bristol, thanks guys, it was great fun, the car drivers must have wondered what was going on at times.
They split off towards the City Centre I went down the Avon Gorge.
Looking back and then forward.
I won’t go into much detail after this because in the main it was Industrial Estate for the next few miles until I passed Aust and got on the back lanes to Liitleton and then Oldbury on Severn, the temperature was starting to drop but I was pushing on. I has looked at an Ordnance Survey map which told me I might find something close to the Slimbridge Bird Sanctuary, what I didn’t realise on the way was how developed Sharpness as a port was.However before that I seemed to have come across 4 Nuclear Power Stations. Two had been passed and two more to come in the next hour. Hinkley Point B is one of four nuclear power stations in the area, the others being the adjacent Hinkley Point A together with Oldbury and Berkeley on the banks of the River Severn. Two of which are still producing electricity the other two in various stages of de-commissioning.
There are some really beautiful sites in this country one of which are our churches, now don’t get me wrong if anything I am anti-religion, yet the architectural beauty of some of these buildings is breathtaking. Coming into Oldbury on Severn, I was brought to a halt by the following sight. The countryside in this area is very flat and I had been confused by a signpost a bit earlier that seemed to say Oldbury Hill in fact there are no hills, it was actually pointing the way to Oldury and the Village of Hill just up the road.
It was now coming up to 5.30 and I wanted to find a campsite. I notice from my larger Ordnance Survey map there was a campsite at Slimbridge so I decide to head for there after a quick loop around Sharpness, which took longer than planned due, to road being either closed due to subsidence of the Port Authority had blocked a road off for some reason.Unfortunately when I got there it was a sign to say that the Warden finished at 5pm and the site was full, which is a shame as it looked a real quality site, however if I had satyed there I would have missed the great experience of staying where I did. Heading back onto the A38 to travel North again I passed another site however given the fact it was on a main road it looked full as well, it also looked quite noisy so I decided to give it a miss. I was certain I would find something else shortly, how wrong I was.
Off the A38 again I turned down towards the river again and Frampton then Fretherne, Upper Framilode before coming back through Elmore and then the Gloucester suburb of it was then a quick run through the city centre before coming back out on the A40 and then A48. It was now close to 6.30pm and there was no sign of somewhere to stay, to I decided that if I couldn’t find a campsite I would settle for a B&B or even better a pub with accommodation.
The first pub I tried was in Blakeney, without success then two in Lydney, one looked very popular the other two came across that they couldn’t be bothered, obviously they were probably empty and to open a room just for me would be a pain.
It was now coming up to 7.30pm and I had decided to push onto to Chepstow and find somewhere there. Just at that moment as I entered Alvington I saw a sign for a campsite 1 mile up a back road from the village. Patience had paid off, after the way the morning started with one farmer it ended being greeted by another, this time a gentleman.
I cannot recommend this campsite and B&B high enough, it is wonderful and run by a wonderful family. Stuart and Teresa Taylor of Beanhill Farm
The campsite is to the right of the farmhouse and a dedicated amenities block has been added since this photo. If you are considering visiting this part of the world and want somewhere to stay have a look at this site before you consider anywhere else. http://www.beanhillfarm.co.uk/index.htm
Arriving late I then went on to make a mess of putting my tent up as I spent half my time talking with Stuart and wasn’t concentrating, I finally go things sorted and got set up to cook something to eat, which in the end I finally ate in the dark, thankfully I had the remains of a bottle of wine with me to wash it down with before cleaning up and getting into my sleeping bag. Take care and as Mick says ‘You don’t stop riding when you get old, you stop when you finally get a campsite again!’
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