One of the great things about Cycle Blaze, I've found, is its opportunity for escapism. I can wake up, get breakfast, and over morning coffee be transported to Canada, Japan, or France. Or Germany, quite frequently, as I've noticed. Whatever the destination, the common theme seems to be sunshine and blue skies, because who on earth chooses to deliberately tour in the honking rain?

Then I draw back the curtains. And, being England, and autumn, there it is. Grey skies, short days, and rain. Right here, right now, reality is the colour of drizzle. And, wonderful though many of the journals on here are, cycling by proxy isn't quite as fulfilling.

Sadly, there's no chance of an imminent departure to sunnier climes, because I'm still getting the family gently accustomed to my bike touring absences. Sure, I'd put down a marker for France/ Spain next spring, and that might also permit a sneaky end-to-end in the autumn. And I'd carelessly mentioned Istanbul once or twice, so that it might seem less of a surprise in 2026. But until next spring, it looked like I was heading nowhere very much. And Raven, my trusty steed, was starting to go stir crazy in the garage. Last time we went for a day ride, she sulked and blew an inner tube. On the back wheel, if you please.

So then I had an idea. What if I could just pop out for, say, three or four days at a time, just a brief thereandbackagain? Somewhere that didn't sound (and wasn't) overly glamorous/ expensive? I figured I could float this on the domestic front without raising too many eyebrows, so I picked my moment, and did just that.

Success.

So I'm now creating a journal in anticipation of a few tours of England's South West region. We're likely to visit the bigger towns, because I'm planning to secure cheap hotel accommodation at various travelodge and premier inn hotels, all of which are bike friendly and cheap. And of course, you don't find such splendid places built down back lanes in the middle of nowhere.

Venture one is already booked, for next week. If the weather is awful, I may well reschedule it, because there's limited fun to be had circumnavigating the country like a drowned rat. Raven and I will be visiting the city that is one of Britain's biggest tourist draws, and a beach. Thereafter, I've no idea. But the loose plan is to schedule three or four mini trips before the spring arrives, and to check out the roads less travelled of Devon, Dorset, Somerset and Cornwall. It's not quite the seven wonders of the ancient world, but we've got some damned fine market towns.

I'm going to try and refrain from including too many photos of the road from my house, which will clearly be a fixture of these mini-tours. I'm also, I suspect, going to avoid mention of ice cream stops, which I know will be anathema to those of you who cycle under bluer skies. Some of you may protest that this doesn't therefore qualify as a tour at all, and pointedly avoid reading further. That's fine. But for those of you who do come along, there will be cake. There will be hills, because there are always hills in Devon. And there will be a smorgasbord of the idiotic and disconnected musings that come to anyone who spends eight hours atop a narrow strip of plastic, and whose brain accordingly lurches into self-protective distraction mode. 

So, for those foolhardy enough to stick with us, welcome to the random ramblings of a man and his bike. Bring a brolly. And cross your fingers that we manage to successfully leave the house.