The sun is out, dry winter leaves are crackling under our
tyres, birds are singing, everyone is waving as we pass by. We are cycling. We are free.
We are giddy at the thought of what’s to come.
We are only riding for a day to Craig’s place near
Northwich. We met in Indonesia back in
2009 and stayed in touch. Craig’s a
great cook and has a nice line in wit.
After talking late into the night we rise to a scorching hot day. Craig knows a good short walk in the
countryside nearby. Everyone is out
enjoying the good weather. We walk for
hours. We are worn out. We are not very fit. But the walk is really wonderful, along
footpaths and trails through verdant country.
The fields are already sprouting green and the daffodils are everywhere
England really does look good on days like these. |
| it has to be said that Craig makes exceedingly good cakes |
From Craig’s we head west to Gayle’s mum’s on the
Wirral. We have a few days here to spend
some time with Isabell and the rest of Gayle’s family before moving on. The first time we set off on a long journey
to South America, Gayle had a nephew almost two years old and a newly-born
niece. Tom is now a mature seventeen
year-old and Megan a shy teenager.
They’ve a younger sister, Alice, too.
We can measure our time away from home by the amount they have changed
and grown up. Otherwise our travels seem
almost timeless. It takes a while to
notice the change in our family and friends.
Our parents are ageing quite well and it seems a little
premature that my dad has been talking about the future “when we’re not here”
is how he euphemistically puts it, as if they might just sell up and head off
themselves in a campervan. Oooh, hang on a minute………..I think I feel more
acutely aware of how time speeds up the older we get. Isabell also talks about getting old. As a child I always looked forward to being
older. Now look where I am……….
We say more farewells. They’re difficult. We don’t like saying goodbye. We ride over to Chester and pass through the
city along the canal towpath, passing through the city without seeing a
car. It’s a strange experience we are
not familiar with. 
We continue along the Shropshire Union canal until lunchtime and our way continues southwards criss-crossing it. Gayle has plotted a route using some of the Sustrans cycle routes which take us on quiet country roads. She is also navigating and map reading – a new responsibility for her. Now I am ageing faster my eyes require reading glasses, so map-reading becomes quite impractical. I remain blissfully unaware of the details of our route. At junctions Gayle calls out directions. We are going south, south east. After some hills we stop on the edge of a large estate. The map says Cholmondeley Castle. It sounds like something from Little Britain. There are woods by the road. They are unfenced. We are ready to stop, so after a quick recce we push into the woods to a clear spot out of sight from the road. Our first night wild camping. Now we know the journey has really begun.
