Back in England: I was in shock

August 1, 2016

I awoke at seven in the morning in my stateroom, and for the first time in six days there was no gentle pitching from side to side. The Queen Mary II had docked safely. I had partly wanted to get up early to see us arrive at five a.m., but I’d overslept and missed it. That was alright. I mean, with the best will in the world, Southampton is no Vancouver. I got up now and made my way to deck seven to look out on England. On one side was the large port area with the town of Southampton behind it, and far down below me I could see my boxed bike being unloaded. I wandered around to the other side of the ship, where across the water I saw low green hills, a country manor, and the red tile roofs of a little fishing village. This was it. This was England. As I looked out over it, waiting for the call to finally disembark from this boring boat, another cruise ship sailed in alongside us. It had a big smiley face painted on the front of it. And a big waterslide going between two floors on the outside of the ship. It looked really fun. ‘Why couldn’t I have been on that one?!’ I thought.

There was a delay in getting off the boat, and then when I did I had to spend some time rebuilding my bike in the big hangar-like terminal, but eventually at around midday I was ready to return to England. I got on my bike and, being careful to remember to switch to the left side, cycled out of the port on a narrow road. Into Southampton I realised that I did not know where I was, and I got off and pushed my bike along the footpath. I was looking for a road that I'd planned to take but I could not find it, so I decided to just get on and cycle in what felt like the right direction. This did not really work. My mind was still working on the Canadian model, and a part of me was just looking for a long and straight road that I could follow for days, but that was not how things worked here. The streets were not even remotely working to a grid system, they twisted and turned and intersected in bizarre and confusing ways. Within minutes I was hideously lost and all sense of direction was gone. The streets were busy with people of all races, there were shops that were not chain stores. It all seemed so strange and unfamiliar to me. I was lost and I was confused. I did not know this country.

I eventually stumbled upon a library and went inside to use a computer. I had to register and I found it almost impossible to even speak to the librarian. I felt really, really weird. Then I went into a Sainsburys supermarket and it was genuinely one of the strangest experiences of my life. I knew this place but I felt like an outsider walking the aisles, listening to snippets of conversations, of the everyday lives of English folk. God, they talked funny. I was in a state of shock. At least the price of food was good. 40p for an 800g loaf of bread, 30p for jam. Britain has the cheapest food in the world. It's a bit of a joke. But a good one.

I regained my composure slightly and found Sustrans Route 23. I knew these cycle routes would guide me now, all I had to do was follow the little blue signs. They led me on a path beside a river and through a park where I saw swans and people playing cricket in the rain. 'How very English' I thought. Looking closer I saw that they were all Indian. Already I had heard German, Spanish, Polish being spoken, and seen people from all over the world in one place like I'd seen nowhere else. England is extraordinarily multicultural.

I was completely blown away by how condensed everything was. One moment I was on a tree-lined path, the next I was going through a housing estate, a minute later I'd be on a canal towpath, then suddenly in a town centre. After such a long time in Canada this seemed like complete madness to me. How could so many people live in such close proximity?

I followed route 23 to Windsor, still in shock about this strange country. As I had feared I did not recognise my homeland, and I worried that it might never really feel like home again, which only added to my confusion. At least beyond Windsor the madness of constant habitation eased and for the first time I was out into real countryside. The narrow roads, open fields, the little villages, country pubs, red phone boxes. It was starting to come back to me.

It rained more and more as the day wore on, a fitting welcome home perhaps. With all the people and the farmland I never believed that I would find somewhere to wild camp, but I did. Just a patch of trees beside a country lane was good enough. As I put up the tent I reflected on the day. It had been surreal, no doubt about that. I still did not remember this country as my own, but one thing was for sure, this was not a boring place to cycle. I looked forward to tomorrow.

Today's ride: 51 km (32 miles)
Total: 55,750 km (34,621 miles)

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