Newport

I don't really have a full day (or possibly two would be needed, given that my legs have already been imposed upon to carry me across France) to ride from Epsom back to Bristol, so some sort of Rail cheating was needed.

I decided the only candidate stations were London Paddington and Reading. These are the only two stations where I was sure that I could access a direct train to Bristol, without using a lift or stairs to access the relevant platform; I had no desire to repeat the experience of nearly being separated from my bike on Suburban rail services in Greater London.

Chris was holding a BBQ, so naturally I could not make an afront to my host by declining his tasty, tasty hospitality. I hung out with the cool engineering crowd, which included a few cyclists with whom I speculated about the outcome of Le Tour de France, which concludes tomorrow in Paris. After today's individual time trial it could be a very close thing, so potentially the traditional uncontested parade into the capitol would become a hard fought race for the yellow jersey.

I left about quarter past five, and decided that although London Paddington station was substantially closer (about 35Km vs some 65Km to Reading) Reading would be the nicer ride.

I stomped through the undulating roads of Surrey and Berkshire, receiving the occasional look or toot at the epic bike. After a couple of full weeks of touring though I was really felt it; my muscles starting to grumble at me. Even so it had a good feeling of a moderately challenging home stretch and I rolled into Reading at around 20:45. I noted that Wokingham seemed a very pretty town on my way through, but didn't stop save to occasionally get my bearings and scoff a sandwich. Shifting that loaded touring bike doesn't half burn up some calories - we're told 5000kcal a day for touring in the Pyrenees, and I think that could be an underestimate for the weight on my bike.

I got to the station, disassembled my bike and joined the 21:11 service, bound for Swansea via Bristol Parkway. I had picked just the right spot to park my bike so that when the train came to rest the door to the luggage compartment was right next to it. Once aboard I slumped in my seat, pleased that everything seemed to have gone as smoothly as I could have hoped... but all was not well.

The train was held at Reading due to signal problems between Reading and Swindon. This delayed us considerably which was frustrating but I could deal with being late. When we arrived at Swindon it was announced that (almost unbelievably) the train was not to call at Bristol after all, but be diverted via Lydney and Gloucester to call next at Newport. The delays meant there would be no possibility of getting a connecting service at Newport for Bristol, and no rail service was running there from Swindon.

The situation was massively frustrating, but I decided that the only sensible avenue open to me was to remain with the train and alight at Newport and stay with my parents for the night. The lifts at Newport are nowhere near as large as at Bristol, so getting out of the station would be problematic, but preferable to trying to find my way from Swindon to Bristol in the dark.

I would leave the train some 2 hours late, and 40 miles displaced from my destination. Add to that, some proper Welsh hills to get over before I could find a bed at my parent's house. Perhaps my reading choice of 'the Odyssey' this trip was prophetic.

This journey hasn't exactly gone "to plan" from day one, but this is ridiculous.Leia mais