August 8, 2019
The Dutch flyer rides again
I finished off my last working day - fortunately nothing urgent came up at the last minute, and having picked up the last-minute parts (shifter cable) and provisions during my lunch break I set off in good time for Sandy station. The route down through the sandy trails and Everton estate was open again now - I took it easy, acclimatizing myself to the feel of the loaded bike, especially off road on the dirt tracks. It was the heaviest I had ridden it for a while and certainly noticed the effort to get it moving, but as always the Trucker seemed, if anything, more stable when it was loaded. Gratifyingly, the grind of the drivetrain, which had seemed so loud in the middle of the last night was completely inaudible when the bike was being ridden. I was still glad I'd taken the time to look at he jockey wheels though, especially as it let me see the worn shifter cable.
It's much easier to get bikes into London from Bedfordshire now the Thameslink trains are operating. These are long, low open commuter-style things with big corridors where any number of bikes can be stashed without becoming too much of an obstructive annoyance. I have a long and patchy history of shifting around bikes by train in the UK, and it certainly isn't always this easy.
I arrived in London at Farringdon in good time, and made leisurely progress to Liverpool street about 2km away. It's nearly always necessary to change stations when travelling across London - the rails don't cross the incredibly dense centre (Thameslink and the long-promised CrossRail is the exception), so the standard procedure is to take the tube between the five or so major termini. When I showed my ticket at the barrier, even the ticket guy assumed this was the plan - "oh, you can't take that on the tube mate". Of course, taking a loaded touring bike underground on one of the most heavily used mass transit systems in the world at 5.30pm on a working day would be the actions of a sociopath - not much would raise comment on the tube, but that might! But it's funny that the simplest solution (i.e. riding it the short distance) wasn't the first that came to mind.
I was a bit nervous, as always, about the London traffic - I didn't want to get clobbered before I'd even left the country - but, as always, it wasn't really a problem. The train from Liverpool St was direct to the port in Harwich (none of this painful changing in Manningtree), and unlike the Norwich express trains didn't have a guards van or any way of reserving bike places. As usual I had had nightmares of a train crammed with bikes, spilling out the doors and pannier bags falling onto the tracks. Of course, I was the only bike on, and barely the only passenger.
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As we pulled up the Stour estuary to the port, the sun crept down behind the docks making them look rather becoming. A girl behind me with a dog asked if we would be in time for the ferry - we were only five minutes from Harwich with about 3 hours before departure, so I could say with confidence we had nothing to worry about on that score.
After a little casting about, I found my way into the docks, being waved through ("to the boat, right?") by the security guy. Riding the touring bike at the ports tends to make people assume you aren't English, as it's a bit more of a common pursuit in Holland and Germany, so it was funny to be addressed in basic English.
There's always a sense of excitement and relief waiting on the docks to embark with the cycles, motorbikes and cars. At the very least I'll be getting the continent, so the most basic embarrassing flunks (failing to meet the ferry or find the station) have been averted. And the journey's just beginning! During my wait, I was asked to take part in a very odd survey about port security. Of course, I know nothing about port security, so had to essentially answer "no" to everything. I'm not sure what they expect to learn from all this.
Very quickly this time the barrier was opened, and as usual the bikes were allowed to board first. At Harwich, this involves climbing up a (rather steep) concrete helter-skelter before disappearing into the cavernous hold. Some impressive touring bikes were going up, including a hand-driven recumbent - he struggled a bit on the steep climb, and was pushed and pulled up by his fellows. Every time I check in with the ferry, they always ask "have you travelled on this before? So you know about no cycling on the ferry ramp". I swear they say this with a wink, as literally everyone cycles up the ramp and none of the ferrymen ever object.
As a result we were some of the first on the ferry. I hit the restaurant immediately, being (i) very hungry and (ii) wanting to get there before it filled up. The food is surprisingly good on these ferries, and not too expensive. After that it was out onto the deck for a couple of drinks and to watch the departure.
The night was cold, and I was glad I'd brought my layers up from my panniers. As I sat and mused, the girl with the dog came and had a chat. It turned out that she'd managed to wander all the way onto the ferry without checking in, getting a cabin card, or indeed leaving her dog at the kennels. This led to great puzzlement, but her dog was now safely stowed away. Somewhat ironic given security survey they'd been running! She was Swedish, and returning to Sweden the long way (much the same as I had done two years ago) so she didn't have to fly with her dog. Ingeniously, the ferry has CCTV set up in the kennels, so you can check your pet is doing OK by viewing it on the cabin TV.
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It wasn't late but I had an early start, so I went to the cabin and pretty much passed out. Cabins, even the cheap internal ones, are surprisingly good on the Stena lines - they're bright and well-ventilated, and with the thrumming of the engine you can't really hear anyone else - so I find to my surprise that I sleep pretty well in them.
Today's ride: 15 km (9 miles)
Total: 15 km (9 miles)
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