Up early we left the hotel to weave our way through the Paris morning traffic to the very busy Gard du Nord for our train to Calais. It’s a huge train station but finding our platform was straightforward and we settled in to wait for boarding to commence – even time for coffee and a pain au raisin!

Even though there was 1/2 hour from boarding to departure we needed all this time to get settled.

Our bikes had tickets too, even though it was at the huge cost of €0. A place needed to be reserved on the train for them to be stowed in the special bike parking section of the carriage. Finding an empty one was our first issue. Then finding one without bikes but with suitcases stowed in the space was next, and adding in the language difficulty in getting the suitcases relocated.

To our rescue were the lovely crew on board the train. They located the suitcase owner and got them moved to the nearby luggage racks. Bikes now nicely in place with all our panniers carefully positioned in and around.

We were on our way, the last stage of our adventure in Europe. Mixed feelings… a bit sad to be leaving, we have had such an amazing time in Europe, but new adventures await us in the UK.

The 3 1/2 hours to Calais passed in a flash, and it was time to load up the bikes again on the platform in Calais, and head off for some lunch and then the ferry.

Calais was quite beautiful although very windy.

It even has its own giant machine – the Dragon (like the ones we had seen earlier in Toulouse). It was sick today, having to stop mid walk and they were having trouble coaxing it into action.

Having a quick bit to eat and writing some postcards, we got them posted, and headed off to the ferry terminal. It didn’t seem far away but it took quite a while to ride the labyrinth of roads to the loading queue. We were considered a car and followed the car signs through 3 checkpoints, including UK immigration, and lined up waiting for the ferry in the blustery conditions.

The ferry arrived and we noticed that some other bikes that we had seen earlier were “jumping” the queue and riding onto the ferry. Much better than waiting in our cold windy spot, we moved to the front of our lane, and immediately a ferry worker came over to wave us on board. Simple as!

Following their example we parked up the bikes and secured them as well as we could with our panniers placed around them, and headed inside for our channel crossing.

A very very smart looking ferry. Surely this is what New Zealand needs – much newer ferries to cross the Cook Strait. Has anyone thought about this?!

The waters gods were looking out for us, providing calm seas and a smooth sailing. I was surprised that you could see both France and England from the ferry.

And then the White Cliffs of Dover appeared and we had truly left Europe behind.

We waited while the a huge number of lorries, mostly registered in Poland, were driven off and then it was the bikes turn.

Glad to be last off as we wound our way unencumbered through the ferry terminal and out to the Dover waterfront.

Having made a campsite booking in Capel-le-Ferne the day before and we wound our way out of Dover and onto to a cycleway taking us over alongside the A20 and overlooking the Strait of Dover in the fading evening light.

Another clear day dawned and with no real plan for our time in the UK, except for getting to Buckfast in Devon and Wabstow in Cornwall, we decided to continue along the south coast for a couple of days while we settled in, following the National Cycle Network Route 2.

The coast line was reminiscent of home – rocky coast with wildish waves rolling in.

We had a short stop at the Battle of Britain Memorial, where a lot of the 1940 battle had taken place in the skies above. As well as remembering a significant time in World War 2 history, it is also monument to “the thousands of people who contributed to the success of the few” as described by the Trust’s Chairperson Richard Hunting.

Folkestone was our first English town, with a stop for lunch and a wander through the narrow streets filled with lovely vibrant independent retailers. Picturesque England.

Leaving town we passed the Toll House on the edge of the Lower Leas Coastal Park. Originally timber built in 1820, and later replaced with stone, it was used to collect tolls for using the road between Folkestone and Sandgate. A mule, horse or ass – 1d, and the same drawing a carriage with timber – 6d.

Back out alongside the coast, we past the pebbled beaches of Sandgate and sandy beachfront of Dymchurch.

And on to the first of our rustic farmland campsites at Old Romney. Just off the main road behind a farm house was a large paddock with mown areas for campers amongst the long grasses. A perfectly peaceful end to our day.

Handsomely breakfasted on our first English blackberries, we rode through the Romney Marsh wetland area, stopping for a look inside the church at Lydd. A lovely parishioner was very welcoming, giving us some welcome directions from Lydd, as well as checking if we needed water or an amenity stop before riding on.

Back out to the coast and into a strong head wind we rode along the Lydd flood protection walls. A lot of the Romney Marsh is below the present day high tide mark putting 14,500 homes at risk without such defenses.

With a stop in Rye to test the English baked goods, with resounding success, we continued on to Hastings.

St Leonards on Sea was charming with its painted beachfront homes.

Finding a campsite today proved a bit of a challenge. There seemed to be a mass of campgrounds on apple maps but a lot of them were caravan parks only. Big permanently setup mobile holiday homes on acres of land. Tents not welcome.

Getting late we finally found campground in Pevensey Bay that had space for us. Grateful again to Greg for magically putting together dinner, gnocchi tonight with tomatoes, rice and broccoli before snuggling into our sleep bags out of the chilly wind.

Having left the coastal route to find our campsite, we wound our back to it through some hills and delighted to turn a corner and find a tea and cake shop in the rural outskirt of Arlington. Missing our daily indulgence of patisseries, this was an opportunity not to ride past!

When we stopped for lunch at the Friston Forest Park a little while later, out came the paper maps to have a closer look at what our UK plan might look like.

Our current destination was Buckfastleigh in Devon, which was still nearly 400 kms away. No problem… let’s ride to Brighton and catch the train along the south coast to maybe Torquay and ride from there.

Sounded easy but… no direct train to Torquay to start with. It was doable with 2 trains, 1 back to London and another one out to Torquay, which seemed so counterintuitive, and expensive. And then not being able to book a place for our bikes on the train. All in all, just too hard.

And also wanting to cross Dartmoor to Wabstow in Cornwall and spend some time in Wales, it seemed cycling wasn’t going work with having only 3 weeks left. Something had to give.

Car hire?? Yep, with some quick research we had just enough money to book a rental car. Pick up in nearby Hove, drop off in London. Put the bikes in the back, drive and ride. It seemed so easy and it was as we clicked to confirm the reservation. Pick up tomorrow.

Money wasn’t really an issue. We had plenty of money available back home just not in our Wise accounts which we had been using while we traveled. It’s a great online banking system paying in the local currency with less exchange fees and better exchange rates. We regularly transferred funds from NZ to top up the Wise Visa debit card. It can be slightly complicated by weekend transfers that don’t get processed until Monday morning NZ time, but really manageable. It was a Friday in the UK, meaning Saturday in NZ, hence the weekend complication was at play.

Back on the road, we rode through to Newhaven and up into Brighton. A lucky interaction with a local while waiting at the traffic lights pointed us in the right direction for a campground in Brighton.

Except the campground wanted to charge £55 (NZD 127) for the night which seemed outrageous for a small tent but it was after 6pm and our options were limited. While we took a few moments to talk it over, and deciding to just accept it and pay, they managed to work some magic to reduce the charge down to £37 for the night. Still expensive but very grateful for the reduction.

And to our delight the campground had a French chef on site serving amazing French cuisine. Not wanting to miss out we booked for 2 x Beef Bourguignons for 1/2 an hour’s time. A quick pitching and we were back to enjoy this very delicious meal.

The short 10 km ride the next day to Hove, took nearly an hour. The strong headwinds had made the flat ride along the Brighton beachfront tough.

We had reserved a 7 seater thinking this would give us plenty of room to get the bikes inside. It was plenty big enough, too big really, and we were lucky to change to a large SUV. Though this did mean the bikes needed quite a lot of dismantling to get them on board. That was to be the end of our cycling. It was going to be just too much to reassemble them for any riding we thought would be possible when we made the reservation.

Having been able to get some more Wise money from my son and his partner in Australia, we were also able to pay the extra charge to reduce our insurance excess down from £2,500 for each and every damage incident done to the car down to £250 for all damage. Very grateful to William and Anton for helping out!!

It seems this is standard in the UK as most rental car companies don’t insure their vehicles instead opting to self insure through these extra excess reduction charges – just about as expensive as hiring the car itself.

Bikes on board, panniers packed strategically around, ready to roll… 4 wheels in action!

It didn’t take long for us both to think… what have we done! It was such an abrupt change. Yesterday, we were slowly cycling in the fresh air and today… locked inside a fast moving vehicle. Cycling had been our identity, it’s what we did. Had we failed?? Had we sold out?? I felt like we had. These feelings gnawed away at us all day as we whizzed along the fast roads to Poole.

Some fresh air at Poole helped, after navigating the scary multi-storey narrow carparking building to park the car.

It was getting late and again we had no campsite arranged. Car camping now. It took us 3 goes and it was after 7pm before finding somewhere to camp at Adventure Pirates, just outside Upton. So glad to be stopped even though we hadn’t actually been able to book at this site. There was a spot and we used it. Emailing the owners after the tent was up and arranging to pay in the morning.

We still had another night until we were to be in Buckfastleigh on Monday afternoon, so we headed towards Torquay and hoping to find somewhere to camp along the way. Still getting used to the car, the traffic and the very narrow country lanes that google insisted we travel on. We were soon to discover they are unavoidable, they are just part of the English landscape.

And experiencing our first traffic jam in five months, in a tight narrow country lane no less. After waiting for a bit we took the opportunity to reverse back down the lane as the cars behind us did the same, and find another route to Torquay. A blessing in disguise as we came across a delightful country shop selling Cornish pasties amongst other local treats.

We were to choose our purchases from all the options behind a glassed storefront, and then let the 3rd generation (and very obliging) owner know, who had come from across the road to take our order. She went back to her place to get our goodies. My first Cornish pastie rated very highly and it became a staple choice over the next couple of weeks.

After camping at a farm park just outside Totnes for the night, we drove through to the Buckfast Abbey, on the edge of the Dartmoor National Park.

The first abbey on this site was constructed back in 1134 only to be demolished 4 centuries later in 1539 after the monastery was dissolved. Another 4 centuries later, 1938, and a new abbey had been built on the same footprint as the first abbey, by the Benedictine monks now living on site.

Today the monastery is still active and self supporting with a farm supplying their vegetable and animals needs and through a shop selling wine, honey, beeswax and religious items.

There was a very peaceful feeling as we wandered the grounds exploring the abbey and its gardens.

To the side of the abbey was an old weavers building, for which the area was renowned was for.

Having some time before meeting up with Chris and Cyril in the small nearby village of Buckfastleigh, we followed a local walking track around Buckfastleigh.

We were connected with Chris and Cyril through my Aunty, who had originally made her connection with Chris by searching on Facebook for anyone with the same name as herself, Christine Doidge. It is quite possible we are related with Cyril’s family roots in Devon as are my Dad’s, in the Devon area of Bere Ferres.

The warmth and generosity of Chris and Cyril was evident as they welcomed us into their home for the night. We had a lovely evening as they shared details of their lives and village with us. Thank you Chris and Cyril, it was delightful!

Before leaving Buckfastleigh we visited the old Valiant Soldier pub which had been untouched since its closure in the late 1960s.

Literally the pub closed one day and was never touched until the 1990s, although the publican continued to live on the same premises. Playing cards, cribbage boards on the tables and glasses still on the bar.

Heading to Cornwall we crossed Dartmoor National Park to the little village of Wabstow, with a short stop at Tavistock on the way.

Greg met Vic through the Essentially Men network in New Zealand, as English-born Vic and Jo had lived in New Zealand for quite a few years before deciding the UK was calling them home.

After another very warm welcome we took a walk around the village. Down the country lanes, up to the village church and back to Jo’s Cobblers Cottage, named after the village cobbler who had previously lived and worked his trade in this house.

It was lovely to setup our backyard camp before having dinner and chatting away the evening.

Jo is a painter and crafter extraordinaire. Such a talented watercolour painter, showcasing her work in volumes of hand bound fabric covered books. Just brilliant!

We had a fabulous tour of her studio the next morning before saying our goodbyes. Thank you Vic and Jo. It has been a lovely stop over and look forward to seeing in NZ again soon.

Being able to see both these lovely couples over the last couple of days is bringing home the benefits of having a vehicle. Still miss the cycling.

Though without it we wouldn’t be able to be in Wales in 2 days time to see in the new decade.