Sunning it in the South West ( well not really)

Here we are in Devon. - the county of thatched cottages, cream teas and fantastic sunny days. Well the first two materialised, but the third eluded us yet again. As we climbed up on to Dartmoor the mist closed in in minutes and the rain came bucketting down. Add in the usual smidgen of hills, hills and more hills and the spectre of the Cross of Greet started to raise it' s ugly head. We didn't have any hail this time but the SD saw a snow drift up ahead. Snowing in August!! Turned out to be just two sheep hunkering down to see out the gale. I was tempted to hop off the bike and join them - at least it would be warm - but as they say two's company three's a crowd so I stayed on the bridge as captain and just took it like a man. After our day up on the moor I can see why it used to be home to Britain's most secure prison. Warm, comfy cell with your mates with porridge for breakfast or arctic blizzard and dossing down with two sheep - now let me think about this for a sec!!

 D

One of the B&B's we stayed had a massive hound ( I think it was a Doberman to be precise but having a severe disinclination to get up close and personal with dogs I can' t be sure). The SD was convinced she saw flecks of luminous paint on the poor chained creature. Highly unlikely I told her as this trick had already been pulled, but we didn't leave our shoes outside our door for a few nights before we ventured on to the great Grimpen Mire (Dartmore in actual fact) just to be sure. Two geriatrics with their throats torn found dead on the moor beside a huge bike  - no chance.

 

 

Our route took us via three ferries and just like buses as we waited for one several came along. Nice to take the weight off though and have a rest on the open waves for a few minutes. The guys on the King Harry Ferry let us off the fare as they saw we were riding for charity.  Funny how the people in the South West haven't managed to learn the craft of bridge building. Must be something in the genes the SD claimed.

        

 C

Finally we entered Cornwall with renewed enthusiasm for the task ahead and hope in that any hills would be small ones. Both of these feelings didn't last long.The hills returned in earnest and yet again the weather turned nasty, but we battled through fuelled by the inevitable pastie and a keen sense that the job was almost done. By now the SD looked as if she had had a spray tan, on her head at least, but it was all curtesy of the great British outdoors and didn't cost a penny. What a team! Almost 900 miles and not a cross word (well this is the official version I promised the SD I would put out). Finally we have reached that last bastion of civilisation in Cornwall - Penzance. We have booked into a posh restaurant tonight as a bit of a treat. I really couldn't face yet another steak and ale pie. We cycle the last few miles to Lands End tomorrow. Here's to the finish and going home ( I can hear the SD shouting her approval in the background). I'll let you know how we fare on our final push for the summit (well actually the finger post at LE) in the next exciting episode of two riders, one bike and hardly any miles to go.

 Bnr