August 16, 2011
Into and About Hereford.
In the east I watched the sunrise fill the red horizon before the sun disappearing above the dark banks of cloud that filled the sky this dull morning. I had decided to ride the mile back to the junction and ride for Hereford city where I'd definitely find a bike shop, as I had no idea what size of a town Hay-on-Wye was. While riding along a busy artery into the city in drizzling rain, any romantic images of Hereford as an Old English idyllic, images of black and white half timber cottages with yellow thatched roofs were soon smashed by modern urban sprawl, traffic and fumes. Tasteless twentieth century practicality lines the approach route. Box shaped metal clad and glass superstores and streets of suburbia. Blame the car. Blame modern society's obsession with freedom to drive everywhere.
I cycle from one traffic light to the next pasting in the narrow gap between the pavement and queues of driver only cars, trucks and City of Hereford municipal vehicles. Meanwhile I'm past by brightly clad commuter cyclists with red flashing rear lights illuminating them in the wet grey morning. At red traffic lights the cyclists stopped well out in front ready to get ahead of the traffic when the lights turn green. There were many roundabouts where I'd to be vigilant and get in lane for the street which the sign arrowed City Centre until reaching the broad traffic free pedestrianised central shopping street.
It was opening time and the sound of a hollow clatter of many feet on the flagstones could be heard as many office and shop workers scurried to their place of work. At an outdoor shop that had just opened for business I asked the whereabouts of a bike shop. The shop assistant directed me to Wye street where I'll find "Wye Cycles"; "talk to Phil. He's a really nice chap" he said as I thanked him for his help.
The rain had eased and it was brightening up, but I couldn't see the way to Wye Street in the street that the shop assistant had directed me. I returned to where I'd earlier seen a city information board with a map and studied it, finding my bearing before going forth on a different way to reach Wye Street. This time I past through the older part of town where passing rays of sun had a dramatic effect between grey sky and grey Gothic ecclesiastical buildings; and I pushed my bike past biscuit-tin picture half timber houses. I found a bike shop long before reaching Wye Street which was a shame because I never got to meet Phil.
I bough the cable and I could borrow the cable-cutters to cut the frayed old cable. The bike shop owner said "Blimey tis a long way" when he asked..., and I told him where Is cycling to.
In a cafe, I ate an all day breakfast for lunch, I was then lucky to find a pub with free wifi before thinking about the way back out of town. I could have cycled for New Malvern to the south east but I reckoned on lots of busy roads in that direction, so instead I chose to ride south west to the town of Monmonth back on the Welsh border. In the afternoon I rode with more confident now that I'd brakes which worked but noticed that there's now a lot of play in the bottom-bracket. Still there was heavy traffic on this road south west and I'd to preserver with cars speeding past. Worse were the delivery vans which often swung in tight along side me when meeting oncoming truck traffic on the narrow single carriageway, a frantic attempt to avoid a head on collision without slowing down. I had to get off this busy A road for my own preservation and was glad to get to where a minor road split off seven miles outside Hereford with thirteen miles more to Monmouth.
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