Sue came to pick me up at 06:20. With the van loaded and on our way to Darlington, I started to remember things that I had forgotten, such as the vaseline intensive care for the chamois in the shorts and the new batteries for the lights.
The train arrived on time and we made rapid progress down to Bristol. So accurate was it running to schedule that it started pulling out of Birmingham New Street only three seconds after its alloted departure time.
With three hours to spare in Bristol I had a whistle stop tour of the centre, or rather, its one way system. After several tours around these roads I eventually stumbled into Bristol Temple Mead station and decided to stay there rather than risk losing it again.
After a twenty minute delay I left BTM for Penzance. This was a 'Sprinter' train although it is drastically misnamed. At Plymouth we had a twenty minute extended stop due to 'staff difficulties' they explained they were sending someone up from Cornwall by road. After this the train slowed down, stopping at every station possible and not moving quickly between them. Finally at Lizkeard the train stopped altogether and we were instructed to assemble on the platform to await another train. Twenty minutes later, this arrived and we duly got on. This train was itself forty minutes late and the extra stops it now had to include for our trains schedule now put it 48 minutes late.
We finally arrived in Penzance at 9:20pm, 2 hours and 20 minutes after our scheduled arrival time. I was greeted by a man who was also doing the LETJOG on a bike, setting off tomorrow and expecting a friend who had not turned up. We chatted for a while and he kindly offered to let me share their B&B room of I didn't fancy travelling to Lands End, but I gratefully declined and set off into the gathering dusk for a camp site.
I soon realised that I needed my lights and so they were dug out from a pannier – miraculously I could remember which one. With the onset of dusk O realised I would not be able to get to Lands End and have time for something to eat. Eventually I came across a camp-site and turned in. Immediately I sensed I'd hit on a good spot and the owner greeted me cheerily with a Geordie accent! He explained the facilities and offered to make me dinner, even though it was after the normal finishing time for catering. I gladly accepted and erected my tent. On my return to the shop/bar – yes it was licensed! I ordered a chicken and mushroom pie and what turned out to be a very bice pint of Edridge Pope Bitter. Feeling full and happy I retired to bed.
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