Took the weekend to do a S48O with some friends as a test for our week in the Highlands in September, the idea being to go from my house in SW London on Saturday morning to Fairlight Cove near Hastings, and back again.
We set off an hour late and got into the rhythm of plodding through the traffic to get us to Orpington where my route via OS maps started, this was always going to be the most unpleasant part so we rewarded ourselves with some coffee and cake in Orpington. Despite still being within the M25 the roads started to get a little quieter once we headed South and although I had planned the route fairly carefully it became clear that I should have also spent a little time looking at the pink contour lines - it was hilly from the start.
We crossed the M25 after Knockholt along the first of many unsurfaced roads/bridleway sections we had planned and headed down over Ide hill and towards another fun little section of bridleway that looped around Bough Beech reservoir. We then aimed South West and past a number of Public Houses I had identified as being suitable lunch spots, having made fairly good time we forlornly skipped past the delightful looking Inn at Smarts Hill and settled for the equally as delightful Crown Inn at Groombridge. A fish finger sandwich and pint of Lemonade hit the spot.
After lunch we went West through Whitehill wood and and joined the road again to Wadhurst, changed maps at Shover's Green we made our way to Burwash after which we had intended to get access to an unpaved road that runs for 3 miles alongside a conveyor belt built to carry Gypsum. Unfortunately we couldn't find the entrance to the road, it might possibly have been along a furiously overgrown path that was not passable on or even with a bicycle. Feeling a little deflated we decided to try and find the Bridleway I had marked up as Plan B on the route that sat a little further South. Joining this we coasted off road on a lovely hard-packed smooth downhill section for about a mile before we linked up with another Bridleway which had clearly been used by a lot of horses before the dirt had sun-hardened! This rutted, bumpy route continued for about two and a half headset-loosening, bar-bag-drooping miles before we got out onto a road and re-calibrated our bones.
Stopping for some chocolate and a water top-up in the picturesque Seddlescombe we bravely ventured on leaving the sun-drenched beer garden in our wake. As it was only about 5pm and our destination was less than 15 miles away we decided we could afford a stop for a shandy before dinner so we tootled down to Three Oaks and patronised the pub there. The Three Oaks Inn at Three Oaks deserves special mention as one of those pubs I feel like I used to come across frequently when I lived in Leicestershire and Yorkshire, but now never find in London- it is packed to the rafters with stuff, collections of collections, some that seem appropriate, some that appear random, it's a cosy, local, slightly bonkers place and worth a visit. Onwards to dinner at a pub near Pett where the food was unremarkable but the beer was good and the Pub's cat was an overweight but flirty dinner companion, before darkness fell we thought it prudent to get on the road and find somewhere to Bivvy. According to the map and all sign posts we were a mere 2 miles from Fairlight, and the Sea, however we rode for over 30 minutes in what we then thought to be the 'right direction' apparently missing turnings and signs aplenty before we came to the bottom of a nasty long git of a hill that took us up, slowly, darkly to the top of the cliffs. Having suffered up the hill and the light having all but gone we surveyed our surroundings and realised we were by a Council sanctioned picnic spot with toilet facilities (now locked) that could well provide some sheltered and subtle camping spots. Amongst the bunnies and bats we found somewhere away from the paths and set up camp.
In a Bivvy you wake with the dawn, the birds and the sunlight see to that, pulling my hat over my eyes and sleeping with my good ear on the pillow gifted me another hour of sleep but we thought it wise to get up and move on. After we'd made a coffee of course. It was time we saw the sea, so we studied the map, picked a route and free-wheeled our way down a National Cycle route for ten minutes, got a bit lost, talked to some locals and were then informed we could only get down to the sea from there with some hike-a-bike, and then we would be met by the South West coast's most popular nudist beach. Having had no breakfast and only one coffee we could face neither the carrying or the bare flesh. Slugging back up the hill and round the other way we chanced upon a Cafe just opening up, it seemed only right to have breakfast (omelette, toast, coffee, the most calorific cream cheese and chocolate brownie ever produced) and then finally got down to the sea at Pett. The proper thing to do at this point is paddle in the sea, literally get cold feet, regret it and pull your socks on over your sand-spattered feet, which we did.
Having met a lovely couple of Cycle-Tourists coming the other way on the promenade at Pett we decided to go the longer but much flatter route back North via Winchelsea, a five mile detour but hopefully without the elevation we had gained the previous night and lost coming down to the sea. It was pleasant and the sun was starting to blaze through the Sunday morning mist, a bit of sea air taking the edge off. We briefly stopped to look at a Garage sale but as the only thing I wanted was a large teak plant stand we thanked the vendors and moved on, it was not going to fit in the spare side pocket of my saddle bag. A short sharp up to the fortified entrance to Winchelsea set the scene for a gentle potter through one of the prettiest English villages I have ever seen, the half-derelict church and walled graveyard containing Spike Milligan's grave apparently, (we couldn't find it). Perhaps it was a final joke, the other being the legend carved on the tombstone: "I told you I was ill". Sadly we couldn't linger amongst the flowering hedgerows, Oast houses and vernacular Sussex weather-boarded cottages so trundled on to meet up with our previous day's route.
Given the now slightly too-hot sunshine and one of our number's poorly timed cold we had decided not to ride all the way back and instead jump on the train to London at Wadhurst or Royal Tunbridge Wells. For variation we took a slightly different route back up to Wadhurst via Robertsbridge (also delightful) and Etchingham, joining up at Seddlescombe and again, sadly, not having a pint in the beer garden there. We'd missed lunch but as it was Sunday we thought we'd find somewhere, however by the time we had got to the train station at Wadhurst we decided to just jump on the train and get back to London.
All in all a very pleasant ride through parts of the Country I didn't know at all, but would like to explore more of some day, 135 (85 first day, 50 second) miles of cracking weather with friends is tiring but a great way to spend a weekend. I think I nailed the kit though we only used the stove for a coffee in the morning so could have done without, my sleeping bag and new mat will work great for our planned Scotland tour too, though I'll need to adjust my gearing for the Mercian, I was a little under-geared with the Danson.
The beach at Pett level