It's an exciting day. I get another chance to try out my Brompton camping technique. I've not changed much since my first test camp, but it will be good to practice packing again and then ride off towards a campsite.
The downside is that I've not given myself enough time, so I've spent an hour stuffing bits into bags in a very uncontrolled way—so much for practising! Let's hope I’ve not forgotten anything important.
Eventually, I am ready and on the road. I'm not going far, and I do know where I’m going, but I still log in to Cycle.Travel to see if my version is the best route. I decide that today isn't the day to try the strange roads it suggests and head off for an extra two-mile detour.
I'm glad I did; I couldn't resist snapping this photo alongside Go Outdoors.
It didn't take long to get to the Redbridge flyover and I paused for some water and another photograph.
At which point a bright green Brompton with a bag that matched mine flashed passed me.
I had no idea who was due to attend the meet-up that
I was heading to, so I called out to see if that's where this lady was going. Nic pulled up quickly, thinking I was lost, and, in the typical cycle family way, asked if I needed help.
When I explained where I was going, Nic was very interested. She is a well seasoned cycle tourer, but usually pedalling a tandem with her husband. She was curious about the way I'd attached my luggage to my mini rack and after a couple of selfies and pics of gear, she headed home armed with the name of the blog and the place we were staying. Welcome Nic, if you have made it to the blog. I hope you find something interesting among the waffle. (I also hope I've spelt your name correctly - apologies if not)
I followed Nic down the road for a short while but at a much slower pace.
Once across the A35, I wished I had used Cycle.Travel to plot the route as it was looking very different to the last time I cycled it, and there was a very poorly signed diversion, taking me away from Rushington's lovely cycle paths.
I got lost!
I finally reached the campsite, sending Jo a quick message to say I was there. She and Elizabeth had been there a night already and had picked the perfect spot for our group. I was sure it wouldn't be too hard to find them. But the check in took much longer than expected, The computer finally accepted my booking, and money on the third attempt.
By this point, Jo had ridden down to check that everything was okay. We rode back to the pitch together.
I decided that pitching anything besides my chair would have to wait until I’d eaten my late lunch.
It was a good decision.
It didn't take long to pitch the palace. Every time gets easier, and the effect is always the same - a huge grin from ear to ear as I surveyed my home from home.
The meet-up was beginning to take shape. First Geoff appeared on the horizon, explaining that Ami was not far behind. She had been caught by the same computer glitch that I had. Leslie arrived soon after that and there was a flurry of activity as the super heavy mallet that we had borrowed from the site team was moved from pitch to pitch.
While trying to bash in my pegs earlier, I had been reminded of my old friends Lyn and Andrew. They were the first to introduced me to the joys of camping. I recalled Andrew always saying ‘It’s named the New Forest because it’s built on concrete’ whenever he was pitching his awning. A flood of fond memories filled my mind as the others wielded the mallet.
Time for dinner and an over estimation of the amount of pasta combined with an underestimation of the size of my pan, meant a bit of a juggle at the end of the cooking process and a rather full stomach at the end of the meal. But as always, the Trangia brought a new fun element to meal preparation.
Jenny arrived after a long day of studying Horticulture. Her tent was up in no time, and she soon joined the circle of chairs, along with a couple of very welcome packs of Freddos. A few bottles of wine appeared too.
According to Jenny and Geoff, it is possible to put a Freddo into your mouth sideways. Sadly, I couldn't try this as mine had already been inhaled.
Our efforts to circumnavigate the ‘No campfire’ rule did little to keep us warm and nothing to reduce the number of midges.
So out came the Skin-so-soft and the midge-nets. This led, in turn, to some minor drink intake issues. Katherine arrived, swiftly pitched her tent and cooked dinner in a flash. Though we’d only been together an hour or two, sitting in our now complete camp circle, it felt like we’d all known each other for years.
As the light levels dropped, so did my energy levels. I made my excuses and left for bed. I was asleep by 10.30, not at all bothered by the trains rattling past, the docks dropping containers or the owls hooting regularly to one another.
I was woken at midnight by someone talking loudly and making the odd strange noise. I lay for a while not quite knowing what to do. I had initially thought it was a group, but then I could only really distinguish one voice, but couldn't tell how far away he was. But one thing was sure, he wasn't going away any time soon.
I didn't want to get up, my mind was racing with all sorts of unpleasant scenarios, but I knew I wouldn't settle and wouldn't be able to deal with anything until I'd been to the loo. While I was up, the situation developed significantly, now with singing, shouting, running through the site and very loud noises.
This resulted in a number of campers being disturbed and eventually needed the intervention of the site wardens and a couple of police officers. All was fine in the end, I got back to bed at 2.30 and set about thawing out. It was comforting to see how quickly support could be called upon when needed. And with the realisation that nothing more than sleep deprivation had been at risk, I settled down to rest. I only wish I'd taken a photo of the emergency number during the day rather than needing to walk to the reception to get it. Another lesson learned. The noisy person and the group they were camping with would be asked to leave in the morning.
Morning arrived soon enough and once coffees and breakfasts were consumed. We gathered together our bikes for a photoshoot. A local pony stepped in to represent the larger forest occupants. The only thing missing was the Sun. I'm sure it had originally registered to attend.
There were two planned options for the day, a short ride to Hythe or a longer one to Lepe. Both would give the chance of sitting by the sea and chatting about Bromptons. Curious about how Bromotons (and my legs) would fair on New Forest gravel, I joined the ride to Lepe.
The gravel was fine. In fact I'm sure I was happier riding it on Iona than I ever had been before. We headed towards the Roman inspired cycle paths alongside the Hythe by-pass and slowly weaved our way towards the shore. We were overtaken at one point by a jolly chap with a dog in his bike basket. We bumped into him again later when his small travel companion had asked for the chance to take a comfort break.
The petrochemical smell of Fawley was slowly replaced by the salty vibes of the shoreline as we edged closer to our goal. We even found a beautiful display of bluebells to pose in front of.
A few more turns, then up a small hill and a whoop as soon as we could see the sea. The beach was quieter than we expected, and it was easy to find a parking spot and walk to the cafe. Jenny stayed with the bikes while we ordered.
I ordered a coffee and a portion of chips expecting a small tub of over priced fried potato. I couldn't believe it when I was handed a huge silver lined bag filled with boiling cheesy chips.
We had all made the same mistake, if we'd known the portion size, we would have bought half and shared them. Instead, a gauntlet was thrown, who could make the most interesting dinner using their leftovers.
‘Do you need to have a small wheeled bike to join your club?’ a lady asked on behalf of her sister. We laughed and explained the meet-up.
Once we had all had our fill, we took the bikes up through the carpark and further around the shoreline to Stone Point. We were looking for somewhere to balance Katherine's excellent camera for a selfie.
It worked, but somehow Jenny got a huge splinter from the sleeper-like wood. She wasn't too keen on Geoff's offer of his penknife blade to fix it.
Instead she went for a quick paddle in the rapidly receding water. Meanwhile, we were talking to another pair of ladies asking if small wheels make it more challenging to ride. They didn't take up our offer of a test ride.
It was time to head back, this time via Exbury. As we set off down the road, we were overtaken by a lycra clad chap on a very expensive looking road bike. ‘That’s the coolest thing I've ever seen’ he said grinning from ear to ear, as he glided past, freewheel clicking noisily as he went.
We should be getting sponsorship for this advertising.
How about it Brompton? I’d settle for the nice triptic t-shirt that Geoff was sporting.
It was lovely riding this route again after such a long time, and it was even nicer to share it with others who hadn't been there before. We stopped for more bluebells and then gazed at the very young calves bothering their mother before we descended into Beaulieu village.
Though it looks so much nicer when the tide is in, we couldn't resist stopping for another photo opportunity before finding our cake stop. A couple offered to take a photo for us all. We paused to rescue a chap pinned to a bench by an overly friendly donkey that had invited itself to his lunch.
The Bakehouse tearooms did us proud as always. I was still very full from my chips, so I opted to take my cake home to enjoy later.
Jenny had managed to get out half the splinter, but the other half was alluding her. Geoff’s penknife came out again, much to Jenny's horror.
We were about to leave when Katherine noticed that her front tyre had lost pressure. The tearooms had a handy track pump and tool station, but when Katherine went to use it, she found that the pump had the wrong adapter on, so wouldn't fit her wheels.
Ami had a handy mini pump that did the job, but not before our octogenarian got to the floor to check out the pressure reading and some nearby cafe patrons had found a fitting ‘pump it’ track and played it through their loudspeaker, providing much merriment to all around.
By the time this was done, the decision had been made to take an extra detour to the beautiful Bucklers Hard.
I was very tired by the time we got back to the site and couldn't believe that we'd found 35 miles worth of cycling around the area. Iona did me proud.
After a refreshing shower, it was time for the next challenge. What do I do with these chips?
In the end I opted for a poutine type idea. Frying some onion and mushroom then making a gravy to warm the cheesy chips in. The cheese gave an added push towards the original recipe.
I had to listen to my body’s cry for green stuff and added the bag of spinach that Ami had kindly bought me. It wilted in nicely and was actually nicer than it sounds/looks. I will have to remember that option for future overbuying of fried carbs.
Sleep came quickly, was undisturbed and very refreshing. The morning sun was shining and the tents already drying. What a great start to the day.
The ponies were obviously running late for their modelling job, cantering into position before the campers' cameras appeared.
Packing down was a long slow process, mainly due to the beautiful weather, no time limit and lots of conversation about kit. I am sure that we all went away with something new on our shopping list. These meet-ups could prove to be expensive!
One of the ponies came across to inspect our ‘Leave no trace’ efforts.
It gave us its seal of approval before moving on to another pitch. Jo must have done the best job, as this was precisely where her tent had been.
With everything packed, I needed somewhere to lean on to attach the back bag. I joined the others assembled near the water tap.
Katherine used her super spy glasses to take photos of the different set ups. It was fascinating to see how we had all overcome the same problem in so many different ways.
Once loaded, we headed to reception for ice cream and final goodbyes and spent time plotting the next event.
The lovely camp warden happily took a photo for us and then it was time to head home. Rail works meant that the local station was closed so those that were London bound, joined us as we headed back towards Southampton. Jenny and Jo headed further north toward Winchester and Elizabeth joined Leslie in the car back to the west country.
We paused for a quick selfie before Katherine headed on to Romsey, and I showed Ami our finest cycle paths back to Southampton station.
What a wonderful weekend full of fun, chat, advice, making new friends and testing gear.
Thank you so much to Elizabeth for organising the event. And to everyone else for allowing me to pinch your wonderful photos when mine were lacking.
But most of all, thank you for sharing your friendship and all that good advice. I look forward to meeting up with you all again.
Further Information -
Day 1 Southampton to Ashurst - 8 miles
Day 2 Ashurst to Ashurst via Lepe - 35 miles
Day 3 Ashurst to Southsmpton - 9 miles
Campsite - Ashurst Campsite
Backpacker rates £14.70
Links
Fantastic, entertaining blog Sharon
ReplyDeleteHi Sharon, yes, I made it to your blog. Sorry you got lost- would have been happy to have helped. Looks like your camp was fun! Nic
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