The first stage, though a little confusing, passed in relative ease. There even was a path for a large portion of the Bournemouth journey. We biked from milestone to milestone, first following the signs that pointed to Bournemouth then Christchurch then Lymington, Beaulieu and finally Holbury.
We managed to make it to Lymington, with only a brief pause for groceries and a jaunt inside a local library to find a copy of Hesiod, before we truly needed to stop.
Lymington is a beautiful port town with an old quay and high street. I must admit that it seemed to have shrunk a lot since I was last here. How perception changes as you age.
From Lymington we were forced to go uphill, a curse word for bikers, onto the Beaulieu heath portion of our trip. The heath was beautiful, a portion of the New Forest (which is 900 years old, instead of the young 400 I had thought) that was covered in a carpet of heather and dotted with ponies.
Not being able to reach Kerry from Beaulieu we continued on to Holbury and called from the nearest phone box, which was, incidentally, right near their house. After meeting and greeting we were shipped off to Brian and Sylvia Orman’s where we could shower and shave before returning for a pizza dinner.
It was during this respite that we discovered that Heather’s pannier rack had broken. Sometimes I swear her bike is cursed.
The Topp family was a bundle of energy, their littlest shying away from me, their middle child, Cameron, delighting in his ability to pass wind and their eldest, Josh, becoming quite smitten with Heather, a feeling I understand, she being beautiful, foreign and mine.
We stayed up quite late drinking with Kerry and Simon, discussing their plans to move to Australia and stumbling home rather drunk. And now I’m afraid I will be forced to change pens once more.
Next Entry: Day 32. Holbury
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