Summer at a gentle clip

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This was published 14 years ago

Summer at a gentle clip

Scenic cycling ... crossing the River Thames by ferry.

Scenic cycling ... crossing the River Thames by ferry.Credit: Daniel Scott

Ah, the early English summer, there really is nothing like it. Here in the Wiltshire countryside, west of London, the hedgerows are buzzing and the hills are being hugged by the newfound sun.

As I cycle along the footpath beside the Kennet and Avon Canal, midway through my 220-kilometre journey from the British capital to Bath, there is nowhere else I'd rather be. I've just had a ploughman's lunch at a canal-side pub, I'm exchanging regular pleasantries with the captains of passing narrow boats and my calf muscles are finally warming to the rhythm of my constant pedalling.

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Then, as I admire a regal heron on the opposite bank, I hit a divot. Suddenly, I am heading straight into the murky canal. I brake hard. So hard that my back wheel does a donkey-like backflip, sending me face-first over the handlebars into some canalside reeds.

I feel a twig skewer my cheek before my bike lands on top of me with dull thud and I hear a heavy splash nearby. I look up to see one of my bike panniers, packed with clothes, drifting down the canal. Within seconds I am in the fetid water swimming after it.

"You look like the creature from the black lagoon," chortles the barmaid as she shows me to my room at the Royal Oak, in the hamlet of Wootton Rivers, a few hours later. Judging by the wide berth she is giving me, I smell like a sewer too.

With all my gear sodden with grime, it takes several furtive dashes to the pub's laundry, wearing only a towel, to get everything clean and dry. Thankfully, I am only spotted once, by a charming old lady, who simply winks and says: "Lovely evening for it!"

As I dine on pan-fried scallops outside the thatched 16th-century inn, sipping a pint of local ale, I can only concur with her. The summer light is only now, at 9.30pm, beginning to diminish and the pub's courtyard is alive with a contented babble. My limbs ache and I have a small hole in my cheek but it is the perfect way to end my longest day of cycling. It is two days since I set off toward Bath from Putney Bridge, south-west of central London. But it feels like a week, partly because cycling brings the landscape's detail except divots, that is far more into focus than in a car or train. It is also because I have already stopped off at some of England's most memorable sights.

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My journey begins with a sublime early morning ride through Richmond Park, breezing along cycle paths through thickets of oak forest, past lakes and around large herds of deer. Richmond, once a happy hunting ground for Henry VIII, is the largest of London's royal parks, covering 1000hilly hectares above the meandering River Thames. It feels like the lungs that breathe air into London's west.

I am across the park and alongside the Thames before 9am. When I lived in London, this softly flowing waterway was my favourite haunt. Whenever the city's pace or size jangled me I'd wander down to it to calm frayed nerves.

As well as spreading tranquillity through London's core, the river is indelibly intertwined with England's past. You can't travel far along its 346-kilometre course without discovering a historic building.

On my route, tracking west along the river for 80 kilometres to Reading, there are a dozen significant sights.

I arrive at the first of those, Hampton Court, the royal palace built by Henry VIII, after an hour's cycle. When this sprawling edifice was completed in 1540 it was one of Europe's most splendid and sophisticated buildings, featuring a vast dining room (the Great Hall), a chapel and even the Great House of Easement, a giant lavatory which could seat 28 people simultaneously.

Hampton Court still feels like Henry's paean to his own greatness. Walking around it I picture the portly monarch roaring at his servants and chasing after his six wives. Entering the echoing Great Hall I also imagine an extravagant banquet and, below stairs, in the kitchens, an army of cooks plucking and roasting, desperate to please His Majesty.

I am back on the Thames footpath by midday, passing through the first countryside of my journey. My only company is an occasional dog-walker and several large white swans protected by royal decree since the 17th century gliding along the river.

I have already crossed the Thames twice, using bridges, to continue following riverside paths. Now, as I reach a river bend near Shepperton Lock, I pile my bike onto a small ferry to reach the northern bank. There has been a crossing here for six centuries and you still summon the boat by ringing a bell.

The footpath leads me across fields, past waterfront cottages and then through Staines, infamous as the location of comic character Ali G's "massive" or gang. Soon after, I arrive at Runnymede, where, in 1215, the Magna Carta was signed. The birthplace of modern democracy sits among riverside meadows and includes memorials to the Great Charter itself a Greek-style temple flanked by oak trees and to John F.Kennedy, erected in 1965.

I now divert from the Thames to continue along National Cycle Route 4, one of the burgeoning network of bike trails that criss-crosses Britain. This takes me into Windsor Great Park and past ancient villages and forests. As I emerge from one of these, I get my first view of Windsor's 11th-century castle, crowning a hill above the Thames.

It is only 2pm but since I am staying in Windsor tonight, I drop my bike at my riverside hotel, located in the home of 17th-century architect Christopher Wren, and amble uphill to visit the fortress.

Windsor Castle is so compelling that I stay until closing time, wandering through its grand state rooms, peering into the intricate Queen Mary's Doll's House and dawdling in the grounds to listen to the evensong wafting out of St George's Chapel.

From the Queen's favourite residence I cross the Thames to take in the turreted buildings and immaculate lawns of Eton College. Founded in 1440, it was the school of choice for generations of royals, including princes William and Harry. I remain on the Eton side of the river for an alfresco dinner at a bijou restaurant, reflecting, over supreme of duck, on the 1000 years of history I've encountered today.

The next morning, with a long ride ahead, I leave Windsor at 7am, sharing the path with joggers. It is not long before the Thames starts meandering. So I forge across country, climbing steeply to take in some of the Thames Valley's most scenic reaches, before descending again to rejoin the river, outside Reading.

From now on I follow the Kennet and Avon canal, which branches off the Thames in Reading town centre, all the way to Bath.

Opened in 1810, the canal runs for 138 kilometres, linking Reading to the cities of Bath and Bristol in the west. Before the advent of railways and properly surfaced roads, waterways such as the Kennet and Avon flourished, allowing for the transport of coal or grain in barges drawn by horses trotting along the towpath. Nowadays, after decades of neglect, the canals and paths have been resurrected as excellent places for boating, walking and cycling.

Leaving Reading behind, the canal threads past marshes and into gently undulating countryside. With the towpath mostly flat I keep up a steady pace, villages come and go and I complete two-thirds of my day's ride before stopping for lunch in the medieval market town of Hungerford. It is shortly after that I hit the fateful divot.

On my third morning, at Devizes, I reach the first of several structural masterpieces that make the Kennet and Avon canal an attraction in its own right, the Caen Hill Locks. Faced by a drop of 72 metres over just four kilometres, the canal's engineer, John Rennie, created a flight of 29 locks so that barges could gradually descend or climb the hill. As I speed downhill past them they look like a giant whale's backbone.

Later, I pass over two more remarkable Rennie structures, the Avoncliff and Dundas aqueducts, which carry the canal high above the Avon River. Crossing the 137m-long Dundas, I stand up on my pedals for giddying views of the gorge below.

As the canal nears Bath it becomes enclosed by fragrant woods and the surrounding trees are mirrored in its dark water. I am close to the end of my ride and don't want it to finish.

However, if you have to end somewhere then it might as well be by cycling into the heart of a World Heritage city settled by the Romans. It is only when I lock up my bike outside the city's nearly 2000-year-old bath complex that I allow myself to admit that I have arrived.

I could have come this distance by car or train in a fraction of the time. Instead, I have completed a healthy, historically fascinating, environmentally friendly journey, one that has taken me along two multifaceted waterways and brought me close to the essence of the gently humming English countryside.

FAST FACTS

Getting there

Malaysia Airlines charges $1236 with an aircraft change in Kuala Lumpur while Korean charges $1100 with a change of aircraft and an overnight (airline expense) in Seoul. KLM charges $1350, flying with a partner airline to Asia and then KLM with a change of aircraft in Amsterdam. Fares are low season return from Melbourne and Sydney and do not include tax, which varies depending on airline, itinerary, stopovers and time of payment.


For more information on the UK National Cycle Route, see www.sustrans.co.uk.


Sir Christopher Wren's House Hotel, Thames Street, Windsor, singles £170 ($340), standard doubles £230 a room a night, although last-minute deals are available. See sirchristopherwren.co.uk. Royal Oak Inn, Wootton Rivers, Wiltshire, single B&B from £25 a night, doubles £50. See wiltshire-pubs.co.uk.


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