22nd of May – What a weekend of lows and great highs!

Friday morning dawned grey and overcast, with a hint of drizzle but at the same time every now and then a break in the clouds to reveal blue sky. So I got my breakfast underway and my gear starting to be packed to the accompaniment of the cockerels crowing. Along with the large garden the family owned number of chickens and bantams and thankfully they had remained quiet until they were let out at about 7.30 then all hell let loose, as the cockerels tried to maintain control over their respective harems and not allow them to running off to other groups.

There seemed to be about 5 or 6 groups with one really dominant male who not only came right over to me to check me and my gear out, he also seemed to be the ‘law maker’ for the whole menagerie, chasing off the family cat when he got too close and also running off to split up two other cockerels who were having a dispute in another part of the garden.

I finally got packed up and under way just after 10 and the first job in hand was to find some fuel, having studied the map in the preceding days, I knew it was going to be a mixture of good roads, then large sections where I would be travelling up and down estuaries very similar to my time in Devon and Cornwall, I was just hoping for better roads.

The second photo of the day was taken on the front at Porthcawl as you can see how grey things were and they didn’t seem much better after I left the town and headed towards Port Talbot, made marginally worse by taking a number of dead ends down around the old disused Margam Docks. Before I got there I was hit by the even greyer site of the massive Corus Steel works at Port Talbot. Although I the distance it’s size was still imposing.
But before I reached it I was still to take a few wrong turnings one in particular was very frustrating near Margam docks, the map, said it was okay, the road signs said it was okay, however when I got to the end, there was an unmanned level crossing with gates, that was chained and padlocked, and the side gate that was open for pedestrians and push bikes was just too narrow to get through, although I could 30 yards away the road carried on around this small industrial site on the edge of the docks. Never mind I retraced the two miles I had come down this back road and track. Before getting on to the A48 to take me into Port Talbot. I tried to stay as close to the coast as possible, however it is very difficult in places due to the bulk of it being closed off due to the steelworks.

I hate to say it and I am sorry if I offend anyone but Port Talbot, is a very grey place mainly due to the dust and grime from the works, but also the number of boarded up shops and other buildings particularly the cinema. The once ornate art deco façade is now crumbling and dirty. The other thing I started to notice was the amount of speed restrictions, large sections of 20mph and speed humps on main roads, not just the back street.

Before my time in South and West Wales was over I was going to get used to the fact that they must have more speed humps and speed cameras per head of population than any other part of the UK.

On into Swansea and the weather wasn’t getting any better, in fact if anything it got worse as I started to feel the first spots of rain, thankfully that is all that it was at this stage. Riding along the foreshore you can see how overcast it was in the distance, I was just hoping that the further West I got the better the weather would be, it was forecast for rain, but they were a bit sketchy on how much we would get.

After the rather dreary industrial dominated landscape I had been riding through for the last hour or so, it was nice to reach The Mumbles, I had never been there before and had heard a lot about it and had likened it to Penarth, however this time it was where the wealthy business men of Swansea came to live. And I wasn’t wrong, a very nice sea side town with lost of yachts and boats in evidence. When I got there, they were setting up for the Annual Navy Days celebration. I stopped for a brief moment to get some photos and have a drink, when one of the guys that was setting up for the event came over for a chat, the bizarre thing is he only lives a few miles away from me on the other side of Basingstoke and had driven down that morning. You can just make out the first spots of drizzle on the camera lens in the above photo so I didn’t wait around. It was at this point I also clocked up castle 17, Oystermouth Castle. The castle was founded by William de Londres of Ogmore Castle soon after 1106. In 1116 the Welsh of Deheubarth overran the Gower peninsula and forced William to flee his castle which was put to the torch. The castle was rebuilt soon afterwards, but was probably destroyed again in 1137 when Gower was once more overrun by the princes of Deheubarth. The Londres or London family finally died out in 1215 when Gower was again overrun by the Welsh. In 1220 the Welsh were expelled from the peninsula and the government of King Henry III returned the barony of Gower to John de Braose who rebuilt both Swansea Castle and Oystermouth. After the Middle Ages, the castle gradually fell into ruin. A survey of Gower made in 1650 describes Oystermouth Castle as [a]n old decayed castle of no use, but of a very pleasant situation. It was portrayed in art in the 18th century as a picturesque ruin, and was restored by George Grant Francis in the 1840s while the castle was owned by the then Duke of Beaufort.

In 1927 the Duke of Beaufort gave the castle to Swansea Corporation; today, the castle is maintained under the responsibility of the City and County of Swansea council.

Leaving The Mumbles it was further on around The Gower Peninsular and after hugging the coast as much as possible I cam upon Castle 18 at Oxwich Castle. Although it may occupy the site of an earlier fortification, this is a castle in name only as it is a grand Tudor manor house built in courtyard style. A product of the peaceful 16th century, Oxwich was built by Sir Rice Mansel to provide sumptuous accommodation. He gave it a mock military gateway complete with family coat of arms. Sir Rice's work was confined to the southern block and was completed between the 1520s and 30s. On Mansel's death his son, Sir Edward Mansel succeeded to the property and between 1560-80 created the much grander style multi-storied range which contained an impressive hall and elegant long gallery - a fashionable Elizabethan architecture feature. The six-storey south-east tower which still survives probably accommodated the family and servants. After the Mansels moved out in the 1630s the castle fell into disrepair and the south range was used as a farmhouse.

It was then down to Port Eynon and a Mug of Tea and a Pasty for my lunch, given the weather it was almost empty, with just a few Walkers passing through, I can imagine it being crammed full on a nice day.

From the last photo it looked as if there was some blue sky coming up the channel, unfortunately this was something of a false dawn. Going back North before turning off toward Burry Green, Oldwalls and Llanrhidian brought me past yet another castle and what was to be rather a few during the afternoon.

Castle 19, Weobley Castle is a fortified manor house, where domestic comfort took priority over defensive capabilities. It overlooks the Llanrhidian marsh and the Llwchwr estuary. The castle consists of four ranges around a small courtyard, with the main rooms at first-floor level. The south range is largely ruined and the buildings on the south-east where probably never even completed. The castle was built by the de la Bere family during the 1300's, with David de la Bere the probable founder early in the century. It was attacked and damaged by the forces of Owain Glyndŵr in 1403.

It wasn’t very long before castle 20 came up at Loughor on the run up to Pontarddulais. Loughor Castle is located in the town of Loughor Only a small ruin now remains on top of a mound overlooking the Loughor Bridge. Rumour has it, there's a secret tunnel running under it where buried treasure remains.

The next section ran quite well until I got to Pembrey, close to the racetrack and the site of the old airfield (number 16) RAF Pembrey was a Royal Air Force station, home to 233 Operational Conversion Unit which flew de Havilland Vampires and Hawker Hunters until its closure in 1957. Site of one of only five Dome Trainer Buildings (for training AA gunners) in the UK. During World War II, RAF Pembrey was the base for many of World War II’s flying aces including Wing Commander Guy Gibson of Dambusters fame. In 1942 a Focke-Wulf Fw 190 landed there in error after a dog fight over the Bristol Channel. It was captured by the air traffic controller using the only weapon at hand, a very pistol.

It is now split into a number of facilities. The Welsh Motor Sports Centre occupies most of the area. The RAF still uses its former station to support the nearby bombing range, known as Pembrey Sands Air Weapons Range. Pembrey Airport remains a working airfield but the short runway retained for this purpose restricts its capacity to small aircraft. However, a scheduled service to London by a nine-seater Britten-Norman Islander aircraft has been proposed.

As I got alongside the airfield the light drizzle started to fall much heavier, so it was a case of stopping a layby and quickly putting my waterproof over-jacket on. It was still relatively early so I didn’t want to stop too early and given the weather I was seriously thinking about finding a guest house rather than a campsite. I pushed on in a careful and manner, as the bike wasn’t feeling completely stable today for some reason, she seemed to squirm more than usual when going into tight bends. Shortly afterwards I hit upon yet another castle (20) the relatively well preserved Kidwelly Castle is an Anglo-Norman castle overlooking the river Gwendraeth. The present remains of the castle include work from about 1200 to about 1476. Created as a defence against the Welsh, the castle fell to the Welsh several times in the twelfth century. Later in its history, it was unsuccessfully besieged by forces of Owain Glyndŵr in 1403 with assistance from soldiers from France and Brittany who captured Kidwelly town. The castle was relieved by an English army after just three weeks. The gatehouse was extensively damaged and it was rebuilt on the instructions of King Henry V. It largely escaped involvement in the English Civil War.

The plan of the castle consists of a square inner bailey defended by four round towers, which overlook a semi-circular outer curtain wall on the landward side, with the massive gatehouse next to the river. The river prevents this from being a truly concentric plan, however a jutting tower protects the riverside walls, and the final plan is very strong.

Kidwelly was used as a location for the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail, appearing in the very first scene after the titles. After our first view of King Arthur and Patsy, a very misty establishing shot shows Kidwelly as their destination. However, the following close up filming was done at Doune Castle in Scotland.

From here it was a very pleasant loop following the coast hugging railway line to St Ishmael and Ferryside before heading back towards the A484 up towards Carmarthen.

I was able to take a couple photos one of which looking across the estuary from Ferryside of yet another castle I would later pass.

It must have been about 4pm by now as just as I was leaving Ferryside the school bus arrived from Carmarthen so it was time to get a move on. When I got to Carmarthen I stopped briefly to replenish supplies and grab a snack but I wanted to get close to Tenby before having to stop for the day so I got going again despite the rain that had briefly abated starting again with a vengeance.

Llansteffan Castle (21) sits on a much older Neolithic promontory fort, proving Llansteffan has been inhabited, and perhaps of strategic importance, since the New Stone Age. The hill's summit can only be reached from one side, and the hill where the castle/fort stands commands the entrance to the River Towy (unlike today, the hill would have been stripped of trees to your make foot soldiers vulnerable to archers). The original earthworks can still be seen and were used as part of the modern castle's defence system--the castle proper rests within the earthwork rings.

The current castle was built by the Normans after 1100 as part of their invasion of Wales. The castle was captured by Rhys ap Gruffydd in 1146 against the forces of Maurice FitzGerald and his brother William FitzGerald, Lord of Llanstephan and Lord of Emlyn respectively and effectively the leaders of the Norman settlers of the region. The castle was later retaken by the Normans. Llywelyn the Great recaptured the castle for the Welsh in 1215. The castle was taken and captured by the forces of Owain Glyndwr and held until 1403 when it was taken back by Englishman Sir John Pennes, who was shortly himself captured but back in charge of the castle by 1408. It is rumoured that a secret passage leads from the castle to the nearby Plas Mansion.

As I headed back up to St Clears and yet another castle the weather was starting to get really unpleasant, it wasn’t that it was raining really hard, it was just this constant and very penetrating drizzle you get near the coast that is usually accompanied by a heavy sea mist.

St Clears castle (22) is not much more than a mound these days. The Norman St Clears Castle was constructed in the twelfth century and the town, which was a Marcher Borough, grew around it. Below the castle there was a port on the river Tâf, which could take ships of up to 500 tons according to a plaque at the site. The castle held out against Owain Glyndŵr.

It was then on to the A4066 for the run down to Pendine part of the trip I was really looking forward to when planning this ride, I wanted to check out but before that castle (23) came up. Laugharne Castle was built by the Normans after 1100 as part of their invasion of Wales.

Laugharne is perhaps best known for its associations with Dylan Thomas, but for the past 20 years, the picturesque castle, sited on the Taf estuary, has been the subject of painstaking archaeological investigation and gradual restoration. There was probably a Norman castle here by the early 12th century, though the upstanding remains can be traced back no further than the work of the de Brian family in the late 13th century. From the de Brians and their descendants, in 1488 the lordship and castle passed to the earls of Northumberland. In 1584, Elizabeth I granted Laugharne to Sir John Parrott, said to have been the illegitimate son of Henry VIII.

The castle stands on a low cliff by the side of the Coran stream, overlooking the estuary of the river Taf. Laugharne may be the castle mentioned in about 1116 as the castle of Robert Courtemain, but the first definite reference to the Norman castle is in 1189 when, after the death of King Henry II, it was seized by the Lord Rhys, prince of Deheubarth. It attracted further hostility from the Welsh in 1215 when it was destroyed by Llywelyn the Great and later, in 1257, when it was again taken and burnt. During the Civil War, Laugharne was captured by Royalists in 1644, but was quickly re-taken by besieging Roundheads. The castle was partially destroyed soon afterwards and gradually fell into decay. It was left as a romantic ruin during the 18th century and at the turn of the 19th century the outer ward was laid with formal gardens. The gazebo overlooking the estuary was used in the 1930s and 40s by the author Richard Hughes, who leased Castle House during this period.

There are certain times when it is great to look at the map and my roadbook to remember my travels and there are times that are less memorable, mainly because I am trying to block them out.

I arrived in Pendine in less than perfect conditions and any plans I had for looking at or riding on the famous Pendine Sands, like the famous Parry Thomas and his Babs was shortlived. John Godfrey Parry-Thomas was the son of a vicar and born in Wrexham in April 1884. John was fascinated with engineering and studied the subject at college in London. After numerous jobs he became the chief Engineer at Leyland Motors. Leyland Motors investigated the possibility of building a massive luxury car. The imposing motorcar, the Leyland Eight, was dubbed the 'Lion of Olympia' when shown at the 1920 Motor show in London. The cars were expensive and only eight were built. John Parry-Thomas tested each Leyland Eight to 100 mph before delivery.

Despite the considerable reservations of the Leyland directors, Parry-Thomas raced one of the Leylands at Brooklands, a 2.5 mile banked oval circuit. Racing became important to him, and he resigned from Leyland and went to live in a cottage in the grounds of Brooklands circuit. The racing world at this time had many famous characters including Count Zborowski who later died at Monza in 1924. Parry-Thomas was able to buy a potential record breaking car, the Higham Special from Zorowski's estate. It was fitted with a 27,059 cc Liberty aero engine, Benz gearbox and featured a chain final drive.Thomas Parry christened the car 'Babs' and after carrying out considerable amount of work took it to Pendine for a crack at the land speed record. This was in October 1925 but the weather precluded any chance of a record breaking run. To cap it all Henry Seagrave posted a speed of 152.33 mph. In April 1926 Babs was transported back to Pendine at Shell-Mex's expense for another attempt. After a couple of warm-up runs Parry-Thomas achieved a speed of 169.30. A day later he pushed the record over the 170 mph mark. Campbell was among those who sportingly congratulated Parry-Thomas and, in the nature of the challenge; he prepared his own car for another attempt on the record. In January 1927 he achieved a top speed of 174.883 mph.

As the competition for the record increased Parry-Thomas wanted another crack at it; he knew Henry Seagrave was to attempt a run for 200 mph, in Florida. He arrived back in Pendine, unwell with 'Flu', in March 1927 and with the assistance of Shell and Dunlop staff began to prepare the car for a run on the beach. After the usual start and warm up procedures had been followed he set off up the beach on a timed run. The car skidded, turned over and over and then slewed round to face the sea. The scene for those first to arrive was not pretty, Parry-Thomas was still in the car, partially decapitated and burned. The car was on fire and in order to retrieve the body from the blazing wreck two of Parry-Thomas's crew had the unpleasant task of breaking the legs of the corpse before the fire prevented them reaching it. The coroner's verdict was accidental death and Parry-Thomas was buried in Surrey. The car was buried in a big hole on the beach and that could have been the end of the story.

Forty years later, Owen Wyn-Owen, an engineering lecturer form Bangor Technical College was keen on the idea of digging up Babs from the sand with a view to a complete restoration. This was easier said than done simply because some of the locals didn't want the car resurrected while others did. The army who had arrived during world war two weren't too keen on the idea as the point where Babs was buried was now surrounded by buildings. However, perseverance paid off and in 1969 the car was excavated and so began 15 years of painstaking restoration work to make Babs run again.

Unfortunately I was greeted by the following scenes and it makes me wonder how anyone could ever race a car on these sands, or even the more recent use by the Top Gear TV programme to test certain performance cars.

It was then on to Amroth, whilst at the same time looking at potential places to stay, the Guest Houses I went past all had signs saying No Vacancies, I was also concerned that those that did have vacancies were so far away from anywhere else I would have to get a taxi at least to go and get something to eat, so I pushed on. The following photo gives you some idea of how bad the weather was. Suffice it to say I didn’t hang around and I was quickly into Saundersfoot before coming back out on to a very busy A478 into Tenby, having looked at the Trip meter I thought it would be a good move to fill up, tonight, which would give me a long run in the morning. So I pulled over in New Hedges to refuel and I was very, very tempted to pull over into the Lodge that was advertising rooms, 50 yards away, but decided against it and went on for a further mile or so until I came across Well Park Campsite.

A very well run campsite that has good facilities including a Clubhouse and bar, pretty good showers to say the least, which were ideal to warm me up again. I was able to negotiate a decent rate for the night and get my tent pitched fairly quickly despite the continuing drizzle. I also used this as an opportunity to use my Basha, which is a military issue waterproof sheet, measuring 8ft by 7ft that can be used as both a bivouac and also a stretcher in emergencies. I erected that between the bike and the tent entrance to give me an area to cook in without getting soaked. It worked particularly well after I had sorted out some teething problems, the water was initially draining into the entrance of the tent rather than away from it duhh!.

Once I got all this sorted it was off to the showers to warm up as much as anything. Then back to cook, at just after 7.00pm, thankfully the rain/drizzle had subsided by this point and I could sit under my Basha to cook and watch all the caravans arrive for the South Wales Caravan Club meet together with other young couples turning up to camp along the hedgerow I was situated by, unfortunately one couple had pitched a huge 6 berth tent for the pair of them in the prime position but I think I had a close second.

After a quick wash up and walk around the site, it was soon time to settle down to watch another DVD, I had spent some time during the day re-charging the battery on my laptop from the bike, it wasn’t perfect but enough to watch over an hour of the next movie and my MP3 player.

Take care and as Mick says ‘You don’t stop riding when you get old; you stop when you hope for better weather the next day!’

21st of May – A quick race to a pre-booked campsite!

I embarked on a very, very eventful weekend just after 5.00pm on Thursday night, I had taken Friday off on holiday with the ambition of completing the Welsh Coastline at the very least and if everything went well I could get further and even spend some time with my Father who lives on the Wirral.

I had been preparing everything almost since I returned from the last leg and all I needed to do was pack a few final essentials, such as my wash bag and a meal I had cooked and put in the freezer, so after making and receiving my last phone calls at about 4.30pm I got my gear on to get under way, even then the mobile didn’t relent hence it was gone 5 by the time I got going.

Thankfully the weather was fine, dry and quite sunny. I was heading for Brynhyfryd Campsite outside Bridgend, I completed the run in just over 2 hrs with a small stop to ask directions. It is very much out of the way and small but has everything you need, despite being quite basic. This said having met the owners and had a quick chat about their plans and ambitions I am certain it will improve year on year.

The only failing of the site had nothing to with the owners, it was down to the weather which meant the ground was very wet and pitching the tent meant I did get quite wet. Given the time after a something quick to eat, the sun was soon going down and it was soon time for bed. At this time of year you can feel the temperature drop markedly once the sun disappears so I wasn’t going to sit round in the damp and the cold.

I had brought my laptop with me and a DVD so settled down to watch that. Luckily the battery lasts just long enough to reach the final credits.


Take care and as Mick says ‘You don’t stop riding when you get old, you stop when you get an early night!’

9th-10th of May, Yet More Maintenance!

I spent the weekend with the bike in bits, whilst I did some much needed work on her, I also had to check through my gear, the tent had to come out again and be dried and repacked properly, I straightened the bulk of my tent pegs, that have become bent over the weeks.

I even had to replace my beloved 661 gloves that finally fell apart, thankfully I was able to get a pair of replacement gloves in a local motorcycle stores, clearance bin for not a lot, a real bargain as they are Alpinestars at less than half price and even trying to get some more discount on them and the bike stand I bought, they weren’t playing so; sod it, no mention, however they are known in these parts for being ‘tight wads’.

One problem that had been increasing in its annoyance over the last couple of days, was the squeal from the front brakes, each time I came to a full stop there was this sound like fingernails being dragged down a blackboard.

So Saturday was spent with all the fairings and screen off ‘My Baby’ she was almost naked. Whilst I shouldn’t have need to take all these parts off, the speedo cable was almost certainly the original so getting it off was a bit tricky.

Whilst the front fork fairing were off I decided to rebuild the brake cylinders and whilst the pads and disc were okay, I cleaned them up, applied copperslip to the cylinders and the rear of the pads before re-installing and bleeding the brakes. I now have (hopefully) much quieter brakes and they certainly stop a lot better, so must have needed the overhaul.

Once again I adjusted the chain. I starting to get worried about this, the wear on the sprockets is minimal and the chain has plenty of adjustment left. What worries me is the fact that I’ve been told that a chain and sprocket should last anywhere between 15 and 20,000 miles if looked after really well. Well this set were fitted just before I bought her, when she had 20,000 miles plus and was meant to be the second set fitted. I have now got 21,000 out this set alone and more life yet.

After this I washed and polished her and did some work to fit some rubber pads to the pannier mountings, finally I checked and topped off the oil. Now I feel as if she is ready as she can be for the next stage. When I returen next time it will be a fairly major service, with Oil and filter changes, probably the chain and sprockets as I've mentioned. The Air Filter is K&N so will need a flushing our, I will also rebuild the rear brake cylinder to check that out as well.

Finally on this post I would like to mention some people that have been very generous lately with their donations. It is very difficult for me to list them all as it has been a case of some people coming up to me and pushing pound notes in my hand, for them I am eternally grateful and you will note I have taken that money and made an online donation of my own.

To the others:

Gwen and Matthew Needham – Camping Fees Old Cotmore Farm
Anonymous, the wonderful lady at the above campsite who forced £10 in my hand
The wonderful old couple in Kingsbridge – generous donation
My Father; John Cave
Nicky and Steve Lawrence my Dad’s neighbours in Birkenhead.
Stuart and Theresa Taylor – Beenhill Farm B&B and Campsite – camping fees
Anonymous again, friend of the above that where camping on the site who again forced £10 into my hand.

Finally, Finally as I was composing this I received another donation online from Paul and Cath Hunter of Hunter Communications, a Father and Daughter to be reckoned with, I haven’t known them for a great period of time but they are certainly two of my favourite people. Thank you!! Take care and as Mick says ‘You don’t stop riding when you get old, you stop when you work on your bike!’

Monday 4th May, Grey and Damp again and Wales beckons!

I woke on Monday morning to a dawn chorus like none I’d ever heard before, Stuart told me later that one of his neighbours has a right menagerie which includes Peacocks, Llamas and Rheas, along with the Canada Geese that were resident al the pond across the valley and the pheasants in the woods it was a bit noisy. I also stayed in my sleeping bag a bit longer as I could also hear the rain on the outside of the tent. When I did finally get up and make my way over to the shower block it was a steady drizzle.

Thankfully it had stopped at least for a while when I returned I quickly made my breakfast, however I had to eat it inside the outer awning as it started again, looking at the sky it looked like this may be the conditions I would have to put up with, at least for the morning.

Clearing up and packing was a bit messy and it was not ideal to pack the tent up when it was so wet, I would later open it up again in the garage. Finally back on the road I headed off back down on to the A48 and into Chepstow before skirting around the back of St Pierre Golf Club the back lanes to Caldicot , skirting the M48 and M4 motorways.

Using these back lanes it still wasn’t long before I entered the outskirts of Newport through a small housing estate I had a small conflict of ideals I wanted to stay as close as possible to the coasts and estuaries, however there is a special feature in Newport I wanted to use as my crossing. It is the Transporter Bridge, I remember going over on it many years ago so I turned through the industrial estate, unfortunately it is closed again. And a crowd of travellers have set up camp at one end.

The Newport Transporter Bridge is a crossing of the River Usk It is a Grade I listed structure. Designed by French engineer Ferdinand Arnodin, it was built in 1906 and opened by Godfrey Charles Morgan, 1st Viscount Tredegar on 12 September 1906. The span is an example of the very rare transporter bridge concept, of which only eight exist worldwide. Service has been suspended indefinitely since the end of 2007. The bridge was shut down in 1985 because of wear. Following a £3 million refurbishment, it reopened in 1995 and operated until late 2007. Today, the bridge is widely regarded as the most recognisable symbol of the city of Newport.
It does look like there is some work going on and an announcement on the local Newport Council website, they are expecting to start some restoration work this summer.

Backtracking into Newport town centre then along the A4042 and B4239 to St Brides, Peterstone, which ultimately brought me into Cardiff by a coastal route, I had to have a double take at the entrance to a garden nursery along this route, which meant doiung a U turn further down the road to came back and take this photo of a couple of very interesting gate ornaments. An Abbot Light Tank and a Scout Car, the latter is out of shot to the left.

Getting back under way I kept as close as possible to the coast which meant going down Rover Way, now so far the bulk of this journey has been very scenic, if it hasn’t I’ve just rushed on through in the past however I though I would show it is not all beaches and garden centres.

I passed one of the biggest metal recycling facilities in the country, where lorry loads of crushed cars arrive to be fragmented and then melted down across the road. What drew my attention to this was the HUGE vehicle that would be more at home in a quarry, transporting fargmented metal from one side to the other as I approached, there are no road signs or signals, he just heads off when there is a gap in the traffic and believe me no one is going to argue with him for being in the middle of the road.

Further along the ride this morning I cam across massive piles of scrap metal in Barry docks waiting to loaded on to ships and sent for recycling. It wasn’t long before I came into Cardiff itself and down by the new development of Cardiff Bay, I was amazed and also confused at times, as the developments down there are outstripping the signs. It is also amazing how they are turning this into a real attraction for the boating types, with fancy restaurants and boat yards.

One remnant of it’s past is the Lightship moored up in the docks, near to the relatively recently opened Sea-Life centre and Aquarium.

After a loop through Cardiff City centre it was out on the road to Penarth and the other side of the Cardiff Bay barrier. Where I thought I took some photos of a very up market Penarth Marina but I some how didn’t save them. I don’t know what was here before but I reckon the apartments and houses in this development fetch a fancy penny.

I head of around the front at Penarth and it is obvious that in days gone past the wealthy businessmen from Cardiff used to live out here. There is a small pier and a small parade of restaurants and shops. I stopped to take a couple of photos out across the Severn Estuary, towards Somerset.

The last image is of Flat Holm on the left and Steep Holm on the right, the first being part of Wales and looked after by Cardiff City Council and is partly inhabited the other is Part of England and uninhabited. As you can see the weather was far from perfect but at least it was dry but very chilly at times.

Sully came up next before heading off through Barry Docks, now these roads were some of the worst I had come across with large series of humps (not just one) in the road to slow traffic down, particularly close to the rail lines that used to run through these docks. At one time this area used to also known as the graveyard for steam trains, when they were brought hear to be dismantled and scrapped I remember them when I was station nearby at RAF St Athan in the early 70’s, now there is no evidence left.

Around the docks it was out on to Barry Island to witness the amusement park there, it is like a mini- Blackpool Pleasure Beach and on a Bank Holiday the crowds were out. For some reason just as I rode around the island the sun came out for the one and only occasion during the day, it was now just after midday and I wanted to push on until 2.30pm before heading for home. With this plan I thought I would get home for sometime around 5-5.30pm which would give me plenty of time to get ready to go back to work tomorrow.

Riding out of Barry, I had actually run out of Maps. I thought I had brought the right ones with me unfortunately I had brought the wrong book, so I had to rely on my Ordnance Survey ‘Road Map 7’ and my Sat Nav, which meant I wasn’t getting the level of detail I had been used to. It therefore meant I took a wrong turn into Porthkerry Country Park, and I rode about two miles right down to the farthest car park before I realised I had to come all the way back, which was a bit of a pain as I wanted to get onto Porthkerry Road which runs around Rhoose or Cardiff Airport.

Prior to becoming an International Airport it was RAF Rhoose a World War II Royal Air Force airfield, which opened 7 April 1942 as an RAF training base for Supermarine Spitfire pilots.
No 53 Operational Training Unit Llandow was the parent station, and Rhoose was a satellite landing ground. I won’t be claiming RAF Llandow, although it is only a short distance away I actually turned away from it after I passed RAF Sat Athan but before that. I had to head off through the village of Rhoose before heading towards RAF St Athan, and Llantwit Major along the road to both of those I passed Fonmon Castle. Fonmon is one of the few medieval castles which is still lived in as a home. It was built by the St. John family in the early 13th century and has changed hands only once. Although most of the present castle dates from the post-medieval period, the rectangular keep was built c.1200 and is still the core of the castle. One of Fonmon's surviving towers may also be medieval in date. In later centuries the castle was enlarged by adding wings to the medieval keep.

So it is now 15 Airfields and 14 Castles.

It was now starting to get decidedly damp, not heavy but more constant than it had been at any time so far this weekend and looking at my OS map I felt if I carried on a bit longer I could get to a goal I had set myself as a stretch target for the weekend, which was close to Porthcawl, if I achieved that then it was fairly easy to nip up to Bridgend which was a fairly close point to jump back on the M4 and head for home. Along with the rain the wind was now really starting to gust. So I didn’t hang around, although I would have liked to look around Llantwit Major a bit more and see how much I could remember, I always think of it with a bit of a soft spot. It’s a nice little town and I used to go out with a girl that worked in the local Barclays Bank, when I was stationed here.

Through St Donat’s and Monknash. Passing Castle number 15.

St Donat's Castle is a medieval castle in the overlooking the Bristol Channel The earliest surviving parts of the castle were built in the late 12th century by the de Hawey family. Ownership passed to the Stradling family in 1298 through the marriage of Sir Peter Stradling to Joan de Hawey. the death of Sir Thomas Stradling in 1738, when ownership of the castle passed to Sir John Tyrwhitt. Archbishop James Ussher resided there for a time during the Civil War.

Thereafter the castle fell into a state of disrepair. Partial restoration was started by Dr John Nicholl Carne, who claimed to be descended from the Stradlings, and bought the castle in 1862. Morgan Williams, the owner from 1901 to 1909, carried out extensive and careful restoration.

After seeing photographs of the castle in Country Life magazine, it was bought and revitalised by newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst in 1925. Hearst, who at the time was having an affair with the actress Marion Davies, spent a fortune renovating the castle, bringing electricity not only to his residence but also to the surrounding area. He is renowned for holding lavish parties at St Donat's; guests included Charlie Chaplin, Douglas Fairbanks, and a young John F. Kennedy. Upon visiting St Donat's, George Bernard Shaw was quoted as saying: "This is what God would have built if he had had the money."

Hearst's newspaper empire fell on hard times; the castle was put up for sale but requisitioned for use by British and American troops during the war. Hearst died in 1951 and the castle was bought by Antonin Besse and given to the Governing Body of Atlantic College. Since 1962 the castle has housed the international Sixth Form College Atlantic College.

Getting onto the B4265 to St Brides Major, at which point I had a choice to make but I thought sod-it I will do this one last piece before heading for home, so I turned left and headed around Southerndown and Ogmore by Sea. The following photos do justice to how wet and windy it was at this stage you can just make out the rain on the camera and screen in front of me.

Around the corner I got my first view of my next destination when I restart over the next Bank Holiday weekend, although it’s not very clear this is Porthcawl across the Estuary. I hope it is better weather.

Looking to the North I gained an idea of what I was in for on the ride home, I was hoping that I would be heading east before I reached the real bad stuff.

However before I got much further I racked up another castle (16) Ogmore Castle, was initially constructed in 1116 by William de Londres as part of the Norman invasion of Wales.

It is one of three castles built by the Normans in the area at the time, the others being Coity Castle and Newcastle, Bridgend. Ogmore Castle is situated on the south bank of the River Ewenny shortly before it joins with the River Ogmore.

The castle was in use until the 19th century for a range of purposes, including a court of justice and a prison, but is now a substantial set of remains and local landmark. A popular set of stepping stones cross the river near to the castle site and a footpath leads to the village of Merthyr Mawr.

I took one photo but it hasn’t turned out very well, so won’t be putting it up. 5 mins later I was in the centre of Bridgend and stopped for fuel of both types, both for the bike and me. I also took time to get my wet weather gear out and put them on, I didn’t want to have to stop on the hard shoulder. It was gone 3.00pm by the time I got going again and then 5 mins later I was on the M4 at junct 35. The weather was getting worse, although it wasn’t raining any heavier the wind had really picked up and I was getting blown all over the place at times.

What worried me most about this was the Severn Crossing, I can still remember riding across the Humber Bridge a few years ago and being blown all over the place, it fact it was down right dangerous being blown from the inside to the outside lane in a matter of 50 yards, and leaning over as if I was taking a sharp corner, whilst riding in a straight line.

Imagine my relief when I started to ride across, they have fitted the more modern Severn Crossing with a series of rails that are fitted at different heights, this has be obviously done to break up the gusts of wind and boy does it work.

One thing that was starting to suffer at this stage was my backside. I was really starting to ache, I had been riding for probably 7 hours a day for the last 3 days on average with very little break, this was now taking it’s toll.

So despite hoping to make it home in one stage, I had to pull into Leigh Delamere services for a break, thankfully it wasn’t raining and all I was basically stopping for was a drink from my water bottle and a walk around the car park for 15 mins to get the circulation going. It was heaving seldom have I seen a Services so full. When I finally got back underway, the next drama occurred pulling back on to the carriageway, the needle on the speedo flicked twice before it died and so did the trip computer, which is fed form the speedo. Bugger! 50 miles to go and no speedo, thankfully after pushing a few buttons on the Sat Nav I was able to get that to show my speed.

One more job to add to the list of service tasks I would need to complete before I restarted. I finally got back home just before 6pm which was pretty good going in the end and to be honest I just put her back in the garage as it was starting to rain. I unloaded a couple of things but I had got back home tired but very satisfied.

Take care and as Mick says ‘You don’t stop riding when you get old, you stop when you get back home!’

Sunday 3rd May, Grey and Damp but with some hope. !

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!’

Saturday dawns bright with a vengeance!

It wasn’t a bad idea to stop over in the Premier Inn I was able to get my gear dry and I was packed up and on my way quite early, It was then a quick drive into Hayle to pick up some bits and pieces and on my way North, taking the B3301 up to Portreath and Cambrose before taking the lanes up through Porthtowan and into St Agnes before getting onto the B3285 into Perranporth.

These roads were great compared to the ones I had encountered on South Devon and Cornwall, now I had reached the North Coast the other main change appeared to be the more rugged landscape with steep cliffs and big waves.

Before entering Perranprth I had spotted a few signs for an airfield and did a bit of research, in fact as I rode along the B3285 I witnessed a Cessna 172 coming into land, at that time in the morning I suspected someone had been out for either an early morning trip or someone was coming down for the bank holiday weekend in the ultimate way to beat the holiday traffic. Given it’s location and it’s run down nature it was pretty obvious that this wasn’t an airfield that had been used by the RAF or Royal Navy in recent times.

RAF Perranporth was an RAF base. The 330 acre (134 hectares) airbase was built as an RAF Spitfire base in World War II in 1941 and de-commissioned soon after it’s end. It is situated on the cliffs of North Cornwall. It has three hard surface runways which have seen better days and two grass strips. In May 2007 the civil owned site which is available for general aviation was put up for sale as the owners were retiring. I couldn’t find out for definite who owned it now but all indications are that it is run by a flying club.

It wasn’t far up the coast before I reached Holywell Bay and then Crantock, which is a beautiful little village and the National Trust car park is wonderful and a world away from what was on the other side of the estuary. Unfortunately the car park is all sand and there was no way I was going to stop, if I did and put the sidestand down, I’d still be digging it out now. It was only a few minutes later that I was taking the back lanes into Newquay to be met with the other side of the coin. My god! we can also do Tacky in this country better than anyone else. Not even 11 o’clock in the morning and amongst all the surf shops and the trashy gift shops and amusement arcades, there were groups of lads wearing T shirts with the words Stag Wars emblazoned on the front and their names on the back, there is also a group of girls on the other side of the street obviously on a hen weekend. STD central coming up this weekend then. I rode out to the point at Pentire and took the following photo back at Crantock and the estuary before riding round to the world famous Fistral Beach. To say it was packed with people learning to surf is an understatement.
It was then out through Porth and Trevelgue before reaching Watergate Bay. Riding along the B3276 soon brought me to the 9th Airfield. RAF St Mawgan or what used to be RAF St Mawgan.
Opened as a civilian airfield in 1933, it was requisitioned at the outbreak of World War II and named RAF Trebelzue, initially as a satellite of nearby RAF St Eval but was expanded with twin concrete runways. In February 1943 it was re-named RAF St. Mawgan. In June 1943, the United States Army Air Forces took over and carried out a number of major improvements, including a new control tower and a further extension of the main runway. The base was put under maintenance on 1 July 1947.

In 1951 it reopened as a Coastal Command base used for maritime reconnaissance, flying Avro Lancaster and Avro Shackleton aircraft. In 1956 with 220 and 228 Long Range Reconnaissance Squadrons. These Squadrons were later renumbered 201 and 206 and joined by 42 Sqn. It also became the Headquarters of 22 (helicopter) Sqn. In 1965 201 and 206 Sqn moved to Kinloss and in came the Maritime Operational Training Unit. 7 Sqn Canberras operated here as target tugs from 1970 until 1982, with 22 Sqn moving out in 1974. 42 Sqn and 236 OCU moved to RAF Kinloss in 1992 taking away its fixed wing station based aircraft, the Nimrods which had been at the base since 1969.

In 2005, RAF St Mawgan was one of the bases shortlisted to house the new Joint Combat Aircraft (JCA) in 2013, but in November 2005 it was announced by Armed Forces Minister Adam Ingram that it would be going to RAF Lossiemouth in Scotland.

In November 2006, No. 1 Squadron RAF Regiment moved to RAF Honington and the 2625 Royal Auxiliary Air Force (RAuxAF) squadron disbanded. Helicopter maintenance (HMF) also ceased here in that year.

Until May 2008, RAF St Mawgan was primarily used as a Search and Rescue training base and was home to 203(R) Squadron equipped with Sea King helicopters. The SAR Force HQ was also based here. Both 203(R) Squadron and the SAR Force HQ moved to RAF Valley.

On 1 December 2008 the airfield part of the camp (including the civilian side) closed but the RAF still remain on a reduced area. This was to allow full control of the airport to be handed to Cornwall County Council with work including a new ATC tower and runway lights. The airport received a full CAA license to operate in December 2008.

It was only a short time later I came upon the evidence of the 10th Airfield, you get to recognise certain things, such as water towers and certain types of fencing, as well as radio masts, this one was given away by a large number of the latter as it had been converted to a communications base at some time in the past.

The former RAF St Eval. The RAF's 1930s expansion plan included a requirement for an airbase to provide anti-submarine and anti-shipping patrols off the South-west coast of England. The site at St Eval was chosen as a Coastal Command base and work got underway in 1938. Five widely dispersed cottages, two houses and portions of two farms were acquired by compulsory purchase and with the village of St Eval completely demolished in order to build the air station. Levelling of the site by G.Wallace Ltd involved the removal by bulldozer of many Cornish dry stone walls and three ancient tumuli. One householder tried to hold out against the authorities and refused to leave his cottage for several days. Only the church survived from the village (which still stands today). The work progressed well and St Eval opened on 2 October 1939.

In June 1940 St Eval became a Fighter Command sector headquarters for the Battle of Britain and Supermarine Spitfires were based there. These were joined by Hawker Hurricane and Bristol Blenheim Fighters and the station's aircraft took an active part in the conflict with considerable success. After the Battle of Britain the station went on the offensive to the end of the war.

The formation in December 1940 of No 404 (later 1404) Meteorological Flight was significant. The squadron was tasked with providing basic weather data on which the Command meteorologists could base their forecasts. This meteorological role was highly important and it was a role which St Eval performed throughout the war.

The importance of St Eval was such that it was given a FIDO (Fog Investigation and Dispersal Operation) installation in early 1944 for dispersal of fog around the runway so that aircraft could land safely. St Eval was destined to have a busy time during the allied invasion of Europe. It was home to three RAF Liberator squadrons (53, 224, 547). Many of these were equipped with the highly successful Leigh Light. In the April a fourth squadron arrived giving the base one of the most powerful anti-submarine forces in the RAF. This force flew thousands of hours of patrols each month and was rewarded with a number of sightings, many of which were converted into attacks and with at least three confirmed U-boat kills in June alone. The Allied capture of French ports meant that the U-boat threat was drastically reduced. This meant that the units based at St Eval would be better used elsewhere. By Autumn of 1944 the base was a shadow of its former self.

The base continued to be used for maritime patrols and search and rescue duties. The airfield was also a site for diversions with a number of military and commercial aircraft making use of St Eval due to bad weather at their destination airfield. The Station closed on 6 March 1959, with the existing squadrons moving to nearby RAF St. Mawgan.

Much of the basic structure still exists but many of the buildings have gone. The base is currently a communication station. A new village has been built on the east side of the base that originally provided married accommodation for the RAF. If you wonder where I get a lot of my information it is basically the internet and a lot comes from Wikipedia.

When doing the double checking of some of this information I also found that there was even more airfields in this area. That I rode close to without even noticing them such is the level of demolition involved and the period of time since they were used as anything remotely like an airfield the first one is RNAS St Merryn and its satellite site at RNAS Vulture 2 which was a grass diversion field further up the coast all that remains of which is two concrete structures in a field.

Back to riding, after riding the back lanes around Trevose and Trevose Golf Club, I entered Padstow it was very busy but I was able to get right into town and down to the quay side. The day before was Obby Oss the busiest day in the year for Padstow. the traditional 'Obby 'Oss day (dialect for Hobby Horse) is held annually on 1st May, which in Cornwall, largely dates back to the Celtic Beltane, the day celebrates the coming of Summer and is internationally famous.

Down on the quay side is one of the best if not the best Pasty shops in all of the UK never mind Cornwall. I mention the ‘UK’ for a reason, one of the local papers was carrying a shock news story about the latest pasty competition where a bakery from Devon won the top prize. Anyway I digress yet again. I had stopped outside The Chough bakery for one of their Steak and Stilton Pasties, absolutely brilliant!!! Also whilst I was leaning against the bike enjoying my pasty I had on of the best laughs I’ve had in ages.

A couple of posts ago I mentioned when visiting Salcombe, that ‘sloane’ parents went there whilst they dispatched their children off to Rock, across the estuary from Padstow. Well there I was minding my own business when these two couples in their late teens early twenties appeared next to me with one of the girls on the phone to some other friends trying to direct them so they could meet up. In a very far back accent and quite loud ‘If you walk around the harbour, you will see the Chough Bakery’ (pronouncing it CHOW) I actually giggled out loud, I almost felt like saying to her ‘don’t tell your parents how much money they’ve wasted on our education dear, it’s pronounced CHUFF’. But that wouldn’t have been nice now would it? but I am amused when some people try and appear to be something better than they are.

Leaving Padstow behind I had to find some fuel before I got much further, however my route was going to take me up the Camel Estuary to Wadebridge so after a quick run past the Cornwall Showground I turned off down to Wadebridge and came upon a Shell Garage where I and the other bikes that pulled in after me were made to feel like second class citizens or criminals. I understand that if some ‘dodgy’ character comes along that may skip without paying, you want them to identify themselves. However when you have a bike SO identifiable as mine, with telephone numbers and web addresses etc plastered all over it. It kind of gets under your skin when someone blurts out over the tannoy ‘Pump 4 take your helmet off before we authorise your purchase’. How offensive is that? If there was somewhere else convenient to go to I would have told them to sod off. Sorry it may seem like I am being very self important but honestly it typifies what is wrong with this country right now, petty rules and jobsworths and people not using the common sense God gave them. Yes I took my helmet off and I did give the poor girls on the tills my views, ‘well we have had our instructions’ have you ever thought of using your brain in combination?

I have to say that I have not had this problem at any other filling station throughout this whole ride in fact this is the only time I have EVER encountered it, hence my ire.

It wasn’t long before I had left Wadebridge and the mass of part-time cyclists who hire bikes then cycle down the trail to Padstow and back along the disused railway line called The Camel Trail, I can’t make too many comments as I have done the same myself many times, on one occasion even hiring a trailer to put my Son in, when he was only just over a year old, he’s now just enjoyed his 15th birthday. The only thing you have to do whether you are riding or driving is watch out for cyclists, there are more here on a sunny day than there are in Amsterdam.

Out on the B3314 then down the back lanes towards Polzeath brought me to Rock. It is a beautiful little village with staggering views across the estuary.

The weather was stunning and I could have just taken my jacket and helmet off and laid on the sand for the rest of the afternoon but that wouldn’t have achieved very much, would it? So it was back on the lanes to Polzeath, Port Quin and then Port Isaac, more famous as Port Wenn in the TV series Doc Martin. A wonderful little village blocked by an idiot in a 3 series BMW estate, who wouldn’t commit to pulling on to the beach/harbour car park, all he had to do was pull forward 3ft and everyone could have got through but he wasn’t certain he wanted to go there so his indecision blocked everyone on and even car horns didn’t wake him up until someone knocked on his window to tell him he was blocking the whole village, which down by the harbour is seriously narrow.

Again on the back lanes to Port Gaverne and back on to the B3314 before heading into Tintagel on the back lanes through Trebawith Strand and then t overlook Tintagel Castle. In all the North coast this was the first one I had come across. The North coast is so rugged I would be a major feat to land any force here, those bays and coves that are available can be; not only easily defended, they also usually suffer from major currents and surf that both form both part of their attraction but also their isolation.

Tintagel Castle is famous for its association with the legend of King Arthur, who was said to be born on Tintagel Island where the remains of the 13th century Castle stand today.Tintagel Castle is set on a dramatic and picturesque headland that is virtually an island, connected to the mainland by a slim finger of land. Over the centuries much of Tintagel castle has fallen into the sea and very little remains today.

Below the castle on the Castle Beach is Merlin’s cave which is accessible at low tide.The Castle was built by Reginald, Earl of Cornwall on Tintagel Head, where according to Cornish legends the ancient Kings of Cornwall held their court. Tintagel castle was built for propaganda purposes and had no real strategic value.

It was claimed by Geoffrey of Monmouth in the 12th century that the castle at Tintagel Head was where King Uther Pendragon seduced Queen Igraine of Cornwall, while her husband, Gorlois, was under siege elsewhere. King Arthur was thus conceived and later writers made the castle his birthplace.

The modern day village of Tintagel was known as Trevena until the 1850s, when it was renamed to promote tourism on the back of the King Arthur and Camelot legends. Strictly speaking, Tintagel is only the name of the headland.

Just up the coast is Boscastle scene of those staggering images of the floods a few years ago, it is a lovely ride down into the village, unfortunately you cannot get anywhere near the harbour, unless you park up in the car park and walk down and I wasn’t going to do that. I carried on through the lanes to Dizzard, Titson before coming on the following view. Bude is just round the corner However it is the rocks of the cliff why I took the photo, it hardly does the geology justice it is obvious that it had been formed by some form of volcanic action in the past as the layers of rock zig-zagged from the beach all the way to the top. Riding along these cliff tops certainly was a lot better than struggling the way I did on the South Coast, this is more like what I had expected when I planned this trip. Bude was very busy, the sun was out and so were the crowds. It certainly looked far less tacky than Newquay earlier in the day and a little more of the traditional ‘bucket and spade’ shops that you expect at a seaside resort.

I felt I was doing well and wanted to keep going so after a quick drink to keep the fluid levels up I was on my way again, I was actually worrying about the potential of cramps again, thankfully whether I am fitter this time around or I was more sensible with what I was drinking, but it is something I didn’t suffer from all weekend.

On the road out of Bude and even as I was riding in, I could see this ‘base’ on the cliffs to the North of Bude and riding round the back lanes at times I thought I had passed it by then I got the following. I could have got one much closer when I rode by outside the fence but I wouldn’t be writing this blog right now. It is a GCHQ listening station. Now I am not informing you of something not in the public domain as it had it’s own Wikipedia page, from this I can now say I have passed my 10th airfield, the former RAF Cleave was an airbase just north of Bude from 1939 until 1945. Despite a few periods of intense activity it was one of Fighter Command's lesser used airfields.

RAF Cleave was conceived as housing target and target support aircraft for firing ranges along the north Cornwall coast and land was acquired from Cleave Manor. It was put into Maintenance in 1945 and was later converted to initially a joint military communications site and eventually what we see today.

Further to the North I went around a number of back lane skirting Hartland but I missed out on the Lighthouse on Hartland Point as it was a dead end, i.e. 3 miles down and 3 miles back for a photo opportunity, Sorry a dead end too far. The B3248 lead me back on to the A39 and some real speed for a change (yeah right! 50mph) but it was a good chance to get a few miles in before turning off at Alwington that brought me in to Westward Ho.

I then went down to Royal North Devon Golf Club. It can rightly claim to be the cradle of English Golf. Founded in 1864, it is the oldest golf course in the country and is regarded as the St Andrews of the South. The golf course is as tough as any of the UK’s more famous links layouts especially when the sheep are out keeping the fairway down.

A quick loop around Appledore and then it was down to the Riverside of Bideford parking up for a drink and something quick to eat before moving on, it was now just after 4pm and I wanted to get round to somewhere near to Instow and Barnstaple before looking for a campsite. So a couple photos and I was back on my way down the A386 to Landcross and turning off to Gammaton.

Within about 15-20 minutes of leaving Bideford on one side of the River Torridge I come back down the other side to East-the-Water before heading along the B3233 to Instow. I have fond memories of Instow, when I was working for AMP we used to have a couple of factories, one in Bideford the other in Torrington and when going down to the monthly production planning meetings, I used to stay in Instow, unfortunately I used to think it was call the Tall Trees Hotel, I cannot find anything on any directory of that name in the area and nothing else strikes a bell, so it has either gone out of business or more likely been renamed.

One thing I do remember is the view across the estuary to the Appledore Shipyard.

I felt as if I had covered a fair number of miles during the day and if you looked at a map it seemed that way, although the trip meter was telling me I still had some way to go before I hit my daily record of around 200 mile of ‘coast riding’ if I looked at the most of transit and coast it is over 400. By Coast Riding I mean from getting to my restart point to stopping for the day, not the actual length of the coastline. I hope you understand what I mean because I am not going to waste anymore time trying to explain it.

Coming into Barnstaple is quite simple before a quick detour up to Tawstock before coming back down the A377 into the heart of the town then getting on to the A361 towards Braunton passing one of the RAF Stations I had actually applied to be posted to. RAF Chivenor or as it is known now RMB Chivenor. Originally a civil airfield opened in the 1930s, the Royal Air Force took over the site in May 1940 for use as a Coastal Command Station, calling it RAF Chivenor After World War II the station was largely used for training, particularly weapons training. During the 1960s, one of the RAF's Tactical Weapons Units (TWU) used Hawker Hunter aircraft for training. In 1974, the station was left on "care and maintenance", though No. 624 Volunteer Gliding Squadron continued to fly from there. The TWU returned flying BAE Hawks in 1979 and 1981. In 1994, the TWU left Chivenor, merging with No. 4 Flying Training School at RAF Valley, with the RAF handing the airfield over to the Royal Marines. The Marines have an existing equipment testing base at Arromanches Camp, in Instow, located across the Taw Estuary and approximately two miles from Chivenor. In a spending review that was announced over the summer of 2004, the presence of 22 Squadron at Chivenor was under review. After the flooding at Boscastle, this threat was rescinded. However, future defence spending cuts may still see the withdrawal of the Royal Marines and the closure of the fixed-wing airbase.

Further down the A361 I came to the outskirts of Braunton and the initial idea was to turn off left through Velator and then back on to the B3231 Saunton Road, however it would have meant turning into an industrial estate, now please, riding around viewing yet another Kwik-Fit or Topps Tiles is not my idea of fun and the ride through Braunton was far more interesting.

I was starting to wonder about where to stay when I passed by Saunton Gold Club and the fabulous Hotel overlooking the wide expanse of the course and dunes, unfortunately my budget wasn’t going to run to that. Shortly afterwards I spotted my first campsite, however I was a narrow road and I was at least half a mile past it before I saw a chance to turn, by which time I was entering Croyde Bay and I pulled into the first camp site I came across, only to be met with a sign with a list of conditions long enough to make you head spin. ‘No singles’ ‘ No single Sex groups’ ‘Family Site’ ‘Minimum 2 Night stay’ The last one was the killer and when I asked the question I was made to feel as if I was trying to rob them of something, unfortunately when I was about to play the ‘well look at the time, you’re not going get anyone else and something is better than nothing’ a young couple walked up and asked his colleague and there was my answer. I went a bit further towards the bay itself and pulled in to the Ruda Holiday Park which is more of a small village with it’s own shops and takeaways etc. but I though if I could get a quiet pitch it would be okay, unfortunately it was full, so it was now 2 strikes, let’s hope there wasn’t going to be a third.

Luckily a short while later I came across another campsite, it looked a bit rough and ready but it has plenty of space and it had showers and a small shop selling beer and I fancied one.

Little Roadway Farm, Camping Park was actually pretty good and cheap and turned out to be the base for a number of student groups including one from the University of Bath that had come down to Woolacombe on a kayak weekend. Thankfully they put me and a number of others in one big field and all the students were in the other, I didn’t notice them at all after a couple of cans of lager and half a bottle of wine, I slept like a log.

Take care and as Mick says ‘You don’t stop riding when you get old, you stop when you finally get a campsite!’