Day 18 – The last leg
I booked a room at the University of Essex Southend campus entirely on cost. £38 for a bed and shower was the best I could do in the area. I pootled down to the seafront to have a look at the pier and then back up into town, guided expertly by Rita who took me to the door without any mistakes (by me). The security personnel at the university are dressed like policemen and overweight to a man. I was shown where to put Lucy, undercover in a bike rack and then shown to my room which was in Building 7, floor 4, unit H. There were no less than seven 13A outlets, so no problem there. The loo, whb and shower were all in a module in the corner and did the job admirably with a good easy to control shower. I washed my bibshorts and one of my undershirts and hung them up on my bungee clothesline: they were dry to wear this morning.
I was quite late getting out so chose a Thai restaurant a few doors down from the uni. A couple of pints of Singha to accompany Satay chicken with a peanut dip and then Beef Massaman and a bowl of rice. It was all very nice but quite expensive, especially the beer at £6.95 a pint. Having not had a sit down meal for a few days it was nice to relax and eat out.
No breakfast included in the deal, so I set off just before 8, back down to the seafront
and along the prom to Leigh-on-sea with masses of joggers out for their morning run. Just past Leigh I took to the country with a 3.5 mile track, very rough in places but improving to a gravel path when I reached Benfleet. I stopped to consult the maps, hesitated and had a stationary fall, the only one of the trip. Unfortunately, it has exacerbated the problem that I had when I broke a rib back in January and I was in moderate pain for the rest of the day. I popped some Brufen which helped but I was, and still am, uncomfortable.
My journey to the Dartford crossing was a mixture of roads with cycle paths and tracks. At one point I had to cross the main railway line and the kissing gate on either side of the track was so badly designed that I had to lift Lucy over them.
I t wasn’t until I reached Coalhouse Fort at Tilbury, over 20 miles into the journey
that I, once again, saw the sea in the shape of the Thames Estuary. The path, signed as good old NCR1, along the top of the embankment was rudimentary and at one point Sustrans gave up on it and put in a steep metal stile with a bike rail on the side. It was so steep I found it easier to lift Lucy over the top. The track improved somewhat as I passed Tilbury Docks with a large cargo ferry docking and a cruise liner in the distance.
Tilbury docks was my first taste of England 73 years ago when we returned en famille from Malaya where I was born. I looked across the river to see the places that I would travel to this afternoon.
Onwards to the first potentially big challenge of the day, crossing the Thames. The Dartford crossing consists of a northbound tunnel and a southbound bridge, The Queen Elizabeth II bridge, a fine cable-stayed structure.
Cycles are not allowed in the tunnels or on the bridge. It’s not especially well advertised but I had read that if a cyclist turns up at a particular place on either the Essex or Kent side, during certain hours, there is an intercom to ask to be transported across in a van, without charge. And so it proved: within a couple of minutes of asking, the van appeared, I loaded Lucy and panniers in the back, and we set off over the bridge for Kent.
I’d noticed as I was loading into the van that the face plate of the bike battery had come loose and one of the screws had almost fallen out. Mercifully I was able to tighten everything down before setting off again.
I had decided to cycle to Sittingbourne, close enough to the end of last year’s journey along the south coast to join the east and south together, and catch a train to London and on to Templecombe.
The route took me along the opposite bank of the Thames to this morning looking across to Grays before turning inland at Ebbsfleet where I met several totally unnecessary cycle gates and back to the river at Gravesend, Looking across at Tilbury, before turning south west with a slog up Telegraph Hill and a swoop down to Strood, crossing the Medway at Rochester.
I stopped in Chatham to rest and take pics
but I was tired and sore and wanting to get on so I eschewed the “pretty” route by the river and took a more direct one. I was somewhat surprised to find myself in the middle of a busy golf course but kept going until I got to the clubhouse and couldn’t find my way out. I had to go into the pro shop to ask them to open a gate. They didn’t seem surprised, so I guess it happens quite often. The route then took me through apple orchards with trees heavy with fruit
and finally, along by-roads to Sittingbourne station.
I hadn’t done any planning because I was so uncertain about my timing, but trains only run once an hour to London at quarter past the hour. I arrived at about five past four, went to the machine which told me it would cost nearly £80, and so consulted Trainline who came up with a more reasonable £46.80. By now it was perilously close to train time and there was a queue of people waiting to collect tickets: however all was well and the 4.15pm train pulled in as I reached the platform. I couldn’t find the bike carriage so just wedged Lucy in and moved her from side to side when we made interim stops.
I now had to get from Victoria to Waterloo and, after a bit of indecision as to which was the way, I set off past Grosvenor Gardens, along Buckingham Gate and Birdcage Walk to Westminster bridge. There’s an amazing cycle route, sometimes in the centre of traffic but controlled by lights that takes you through Westminster and across the bridge, then left turn up York Road and I was at Waterloo Station before 1800hrs for the train that was due to depart at 1820.
This time I’ve found the bike rack so can settle down to record the blog. I can’t get Southern Railway’s Internet to work so will have to put the finishing touches when I get home at about 9.15. There’s plenty of juice in the battery to light me homewards.
As always, I’ve had good days and bad but I’m glad I’ve done it. Only the most difficult bit of Britain left but I’ll have a look at the 1200 miles around the North West of Scotland and England when I’ve recovered from this one.