A rather busy B road took me to the village of Pidling, where they definitely have a sense of humour. I left along Pidling Sheep Lane, where there were sheep but they were all in the fields and too far away for me to verify any special characteristics.
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| Pidling (read the small print) |
St Ives, Huntingdon and St Neots are all close to each other on the Great Ouse river. I stopped first in St Ives, a lovely market town with nice shops and a beautiful bridge over the river The Thicket Path led out of town to the lovely old village of Houghton, half way to Huntingdon. I didn't see the lovely part of Huntingdon, but you can't look everywhere. It wasn't as well-to-do as St Ives. Then I struggled into the wind southwards, through a series of romantically named villages in the Offord family: Offord D'Arcy, Offord Cluny; to St Neots, which is a likeable place with nice shops. Had a vast and much-needed lunch at a cafe in a riverside park.
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| St Ives |
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| Huntingdon (spot the difference) |
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| River Nene at Godmanchester, south of Huntingdon |
Leaving St Neots I followed another greenway, with a huge pedestrian bridge across the flood plain - it must have been 1/2 a mile long. I was at last heading north - hurray! In fact I was on the Great North Road for a bit, by Eaton Socom (now bypassed).
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| Enormous footbridge at Eaton Socom |
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| Oops. A ford. Not too deep... |
I rode half way round the vast Grafham Water, which wasn't as good as I hoped, as it was never that close to the water, and consequently quite hilly, also mostly gravel and into the wind. Ten hard miles. I had definitely left Fen country, and soon I met my old friend the A14 again. I was so desperate for a tea stop I went into the A14 services at Spaldwick, comprising a Greggs and a Costa.
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| Hard-working turbines |
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| Grafham Water |
Then, a bit of a mistake. A couple of miles of bridleway, uphill. My expert tracking skills told me a tractor had been this way recently. Freshly cut hedges, and telltale tyre tracks, which I could feel rather than see in the grass. After half a mile I caught up with the tractor and he moved aside to let me pass. I was high on the side of a hill, and I could see rain showers in the distance, which gave me some satisfaction until I realised they were coming my way.
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| Definitely off road (Plus wind-blown telegraph pole) |
Back on tarmac, a tail wind, back into Northants, crossing my path from yesterday, along a ridge, all good until the shower caught up with me. By the time I'd put away my washing, taken off my warm top and put on my waterproof, it had stopped.
I looped down into the Nene valley again, through pretty Aldwincle, then followed the Nene (sort of) up to Oundle. Oundle is an up-market town dominated by the posh Oundle School, in the same way that Eton dominates Eton. I would have liked to look around more but I had to find a campsite before sunset. The wind seems to have died down, at last.
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| Oundle School chapel |
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| Oundle |
Same old story - nobody answering the phone (at 6pm) - so I decided just to turn up, which worked well, at thectime ofcwriting. I found a camp site at Yarwell Mill, on the Nene; a big field with a few tents, nice showers, and loads of geese. I pitched in the gloaming, and headed straight to the excellent pub for a meal and a pint.
Post Script: If only I had been there a couple of days later, I could have experienced the World Conker Championships, held at Southgate, near Oundle. I may never have that opportunity again.
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