Day 85  Mon 13 June: What a fantastic prospect, a virtually traffic free first half of the day, following what must be the longest stretch of flat, smooth(ish), cycleable promenades in the country.  From Brighton Marina to Littlehampton, via Shoreham harbour. Plus, I had a trick up my sleeve. I was going to fool The Wind. By setting off in an easterly direction for the first 3 miles back to Brighton Marina, where the temporary Inshore Lifeboat Station is hidden amongst thousands of yachts, behind high security guerilla-proof gates, The Wind would stick to its compulsive hindrance syndrome tendency (CHST) and swing around to the east for the day. Alas, The Wind is too clever. I knew it wasn’t going to work when I realised I’d reached Brighton ILB at around 20mph without pedalling much. Thanks Mark/Rusty Steel, for meeting me before dashing off to work on your other boat. The “Thundebirds are Go” style floating boathouse with speedy maintenance hoist is most impressive. Good luck with the new Station.

Meanwhile, back on Brighton Promenade, the cunning West Wind was waiting. By standing on the pedals to produce weight assisted max torque, I was able to reach just over half of my earlier eastbound average speed. Such a strain is not wise and cannot be maintained. Standing up only increases drag. Daft ‘though it may look, the low profile crouch, chin on stem, hands down on the drops, spinning a high cadence, is much more efficient into a relentless wind. So that’s how I spent most of the day.

Shoreham Harbour A&ILB Station is big. Very big. Biggest? Arguably. Mark, Full Time Mechanic, disagrees. He thinks Tenby’s is bigger, so it probably is. Nevertheless, this one is a monster. Would you like to have a virtual tour? Not sure if this will work but try clicking  HERE . Climbing the 100+ steps from the ouside ground level to the crew room, twice, would have been enough exercise for one day. Thanks Mark (FT Mech) and Sam (crew) for the helpful comments and advice about the Glass Bridge route. Just what I needed to get me straight back on the totally exposed sea wall, all the way to Littlehampton. Oh for the wheels of a few dangerously close friends. Where’s my wind-shielding peloton?

Littlehampton ILB Station is one of seven stations operating a lifeboat funded by viewers of the BBC television programme Blue Peter. As well as providing local search and rescue coverage, crew members also provided humanitarian help during flooding in East Pakistan over 35 years ago. More recently and much more locally, their regular calls to assist boats in distress, day and night continue. Many thanks to Geoff, the boat house manager, for the cheery welcome. Best wishes to the crew, all busy at their regular jobs today, with their pagers on their belts.

Most of the last 20 miles to Selsey, today’s destination, were more sheltered. Alas, I decided to trust Little Garmin to lead the way. After 3 wrong turns down idyllic country lanes which had a habit of fizzling out at a private cul-de-sac or tyre-biting stoney track, I switched off the offending navigational aid. Garmin is clearly not from ’round ‘ere. I needed some local, insider information. And that’s when I stumbled into my saviours of the day, the Family Strudwick. Thanks for encouraging me to go against my instincts and to retrace my route, heading north for a few miles to discover the main road from Chichester to Selsey, via the longer but much easier way.

Tomorrow, Selsey All Weather Lifeboat Station

Day 84  Sun 12 June:  A day of low cycle mileage, with more time to enjoy some good company. First, I must ride back to Newhaven. A very wet start. Cycling back is not really necessary, having already pedalled there yesterday. But Fondo needs to be there and I’m ready to go, thanks to a good night’s sleep and the nourishing, high protein breakfast. Thank you Monica.

There’s probably a name for that very fine but heavy rain. The sort that feels soft and light until you start moving through it at speed. Apologies to Mike, the Newhaven LOM, for dripping all over his lovely Lifeboat house and leaving a high definition wet imprint of a cyclist’s rear end on his chair.

Not long after Mike’s ceremonial signing of the damp chart, the rumbling of the returning Severn Class Lifeboat coincided with the arrival of a familiar family group. My neice Vicky & her husband Dante, with my great nephew & niece, Emilio and Clara. Thanks Mike (LOM) and crew for the warm welcome and full tour of the boat and the modern “shore facility” as the RNLI describes Lifeboat Stations that are not really a boathouse.

Thanks Dante, for bringing your bike and being my guide and ride partner along the coast via Brighton and on to Hove. It had stopped raining but there were plenty of chalky puddles to splash through on the promenade beneath the white cliffs. I’d forgotten how long the combined Brighton & Hove sea front is. A good few miles, with civilised separation of well defined cycle lanes. Time to put the bike away for a while, join the rest of the gang, including Monica (Dante’s mum), sister Patricia, niece Mandy, and to rediscover the pleasures of walking, talking and sharing a table for eight in a Mexican restaurant.

Thanks everyone for making my day. My only regret was that we missed the opportunity to take part in one of Brighton’s big annual events. By the time I’d ‘d realised, Fondo was locked away in Mandy’s flat. Today is Naked Cycling Sunday.

Day 83  Sat 11 June:  A treat indeed. Thank you so much Patricia and Norman for booking me in to Hayden’s luxury B&B in Rye. Delightful, cheery staff, very welcome complimentary cool beer on arrival, the perfect scalp massaging power shower that reduces me to vertical slumber, i.e. the deepest state of relaxion possible without falling over. Not sure if it was the huge fish supper with a Bottle of Britain Spitfire ale and very generous portion of rhubarb crumble and custard, or the full choir of gently serenading gulls above my dormer window that ensured instant deep sleep. Hence the 24hr blog delay. By 8 a.m., plenty of room for a large breakfast of poached eggs with salmon. The feeling of complete satisfaction with such a high class treat was only slightly deflated by the realisation that not all was well with Fondo. A flat tyre. The first puncture in over 2,000 miles. The previous day’s rough cast sections of concrete roads, stoney tracks and quaint cobbled streets of Rye had taken their toll. No worries. A quick repair and off to Rye Harbour ILB Station just 2 miles down the road. Apologies (for being 20 minutes later than suggested) and thanks (for the still warm welcome and condensed history of the local Lifeboat Station) to Tony (DLA) and Richard (LOM).

The worst disaster for many years occurred on 15 November 1928 when the whole of the Rye Harbour lifeboat crew of 17 were drowned, practically the whole male fishing population of the village.  The lifeboat was launched in a south-west gale with heavy rain squalls and heavy seas to the vessel Alice.  News was received that the crew of the Alice had been rescued by another vessel and the recall signal was fired three times, but apparently the crew of the lifeboat had not seen it.  As the lifeboat was coming into harbour she was seen to capsize and the whole crew perished.

88 years later, as I cycled away from Rye Harbour on this warm early summer’s day it was impossible to comprehend the devastating effect of such a loss to this still small community. Tony and Richard forewarned me that the Hastings Allweather Lifeboat, the next to be visited, had been called out. A quick call to Peter (Hastings LOM) confirmed that this was the case and their boat was already on its way back. I arrived in time to watch the slow, careful ‘recovery’ process. The launch can take just minutes. The recovery takes a lot longer. Thanks Peter (LOM), Steve (Cox’n ) and the rest of the crew for laying on such a fascinating display of care and precision in the gentle handling of 15 tons of Mersey Lifeboat, including its wash-down and refuelling. You needn’t have gone to quite so much trouble. A quick hello over a cup of tea and a signature is all I normally expect.

Another 15 miles along the increasingly hilly, high, white-cliffed Sussex coast line to Eastbourne. As expected, all quiet at the ALB boathouse at this time on a Saturday with the Eastbourne Carnival in full flow but congratulations to Alan (ILB Helmsman) and Brandon (ILB crew) for their perfect timing on arrival at the Old boathouse. Thanks for such positive encouragement and kind concern regarding the next few hills between here and Newhaven with the first long climb up from sea level to the famously precipitous Beachey Head. What a lot of chalk everywhere at the top. There must have been thousands of school trips here over the decades. Such a safe, wide open space (especially looking South) to bring busloads of excited children and setting them loose.

Alas, the slow, punctured start to the day combined with exciting, extended visits, irresistible distractions (like the genuine American Aluminium Airstream caravan converted into a mobile café selling the “The World’s Best Chocolate Brownies”) and the long, hot climbs, all added up to being an hour or more behind schedule by the time I reached Newhaven. Again, expecting an ALB Station to remain open this late on a Saturday is unreaonable. Only 5 more miles to Saltdean. Plan B: return tomorrow to catch the entire crew  mustering for  Sunday morning exercise / crew training session.

Day 82  Fri 10 June:  Have some of us become too dependent upon modern technology? Since starting this challenge, I clearly have. A few hours without a mobile phone signal can totally disrupt a routine. How would I have approached this challenge if it was 1956? Ok, my mum & dad probably wouldn’t have been keen on allowing a four year old to set off on his Triang tricycle, … but you know what I mean. To follow the same etiquette of prior notice, I would first have needed to write 237 letters to Lifeboat Stations, in time to receive positive replies before setting off. I would then have needed to carry a large bag of coins (at a minimum of fourpence a call, that would be about a thousand big old pennies) to feed many of the red phone boxes around the country, to confirm or adjust my more imminent arrival time. It wouldn’t have happened. I would probably have just set off and hoped to find most Lifeboat sheds attended. Unlikely. But how much easier that would have been! Has the development of so many ways of making instant contact made life easier? Of course it has. But what is the average time spent engaged with our smart mobile devices each day? How long have you spent on a mobile phone, tablet or pc this week?  No, wait! Don’t switch off. This is 2016.

Thank you Ross, Adam and Tim, the three keen young amateur racing cyclists from Woodbridge in Suffolk who shared a table with me in The Port Arms in Deal last evening. Great to catch up with the latest cycling banter and compare notes on our very different rides. One thing we had in common, after a day of leg spinning,  was the need for lots of food and drink. Good luck with the rest of your high speed training tour of Kent and with the rest of the season.

First stop of the day,  Walmer ILB Station. Thanks Les, the Boathouse manager, for being there and sharing some of your experiences of over 60 years of RNLI service. Already running a little late setting off for Dover, the cheery chaffinch ring tone alerted me to an incoming call. Dominic, RNLI volunteer crew from Littlestone on Sea and local BBC Radio Kent presenter, would like to interview me on his “rate it or slate it” slot on today’s programme. Fame at last. How could I refuse?

The ride down from Dover Castle to the ALB Station was certainly a highlight . A great, snaking downhill dash. It’s a while since Fondo & I last touched 40mph. Thank you Jon and Lee for the welcome break and for showing me how I can now spend even more time with my tablet planning routes and capturing images of Google maps for off-line, on-road reference mid ride. Sometimes, just keeping the sea on my left as I pedal still works. Sometimes it still goes horribly wrong. Today, it worked. A very enjoyable, fast ride across the county boundary into East Sussex. A quick call to the next ILBStn at Littlestone on Sea to confirm eta revealed that their Atlantic 85 was out on a shout! By the time I arrived, recovery of the Lifeboat was well under way,  already on its carriage, salt water hosed off and drip drying on the hard standing. Thanks Harry (congrats on your first call out as crew), Clinton (crew), Tony (Helm) and Sheena & Mike (shore crew/tractor drivers). It was a privilege to be able to talk to a crew so soon after being “on service ” despite the inconclusive outcome of the search for a missing person who might have gone in to the sea.

The last visit of the day was just 4 miles down the road, to Dungeness.  A remote, atmospheric setting. This was the first Station to take delivery of the latest Shannon Class, now tucked safely into its boathouse. I eventually spotted a couple of the crew silhouetted at the distant water’s edge next to their small beach maintenance bulldozer. A long walk in cleated cycling shoes on coarse, loose shingle. Tempted to sit and wait. But there was no sign they were heading back soon. It had to be done. None missed yet. Get that chart signed. Get to Rye. Only then might I deserve the anticipated rendesvous and end of day treat planned by sister Patricia and bro-in-law Norman.

Day 81  Thurs 9 June:  In the cool light of a new day, things seemed a bit cheerier this morning. Perhaps, in my semi exhausted state yesterday,  I had been a bit negative about Sheerness. Many thanks to Mike McAllister (no relation, but a keen supporter of the RNLI) for the 100% discount at The Royal Hotel. The refurbishment is well under way and is sure to be a subtle blend of all mod cons and original character on completion.

A much more pleasant day on the road today, with some quiet country lanes, with the occasional oast house backdrops associated with Kent. Whitstable ILB Station takes centre stage in this busy sailing community. Thanks to Mike (LOM) and the many ladies and gents working in the busiest RNLI Shop and small café visited to-date. The opportunity to hug the coast along the proms and sea walls all the way to the next stop was an option not to miss.  No traffic, unless you include the occasional tricycle and baby buggy.  Even the unrestrained, free range dogs had respect for a two-wheeled juggernaut rumbling along the wide, harmoniously shared concrete path. Not a single extending trip-wire dog lead.

I had no idea of the scale of Margate.  The All Weather Lifeboat Station is hidden behind the huge modern art centre. Lots of controversial debate continues regarding planning consent for a new ALB Station. As a non resident with no say in the matter, I simply ask, what’s to lose? I can only visualise a great new facility tucked in the corner of the beach in a popular resort facing the busy English Channel, with all the advantages that a fast response new Shannon class Lifeboat will bring, combined with a new Lifeguard base, visitor centre promoting sea safety … Just let them build it.

Thanks Phil (relief mechanic from Ramsgate) and Paul (Margate LOM) for the welcome break and double chart signing. With his own crew at Ramsgate, the next stop, out on a shout many miles out, there was a chance I might not see anyone there when I arrive in just half an hour. For a moment, on arrival, I thought that was the case. But I struck lucky, the recently retired LOM/ex Cox’n Ron Cannon was there. Ron, the father of two current crew, enjoyed a long and distinguished career. He was awarded 2 Silver Medals. It was a privilege to meet him and add his autograph to the chart. Ron confirmed that the crew were unlikely to return with their trusty Mersey in the next hour or two. They were “over the horizon” making safe a motor yacht with tangled nets caught in the props. This common occurrence often ends with a long tow to a safe haven. Trying to dive in to untangle nets or ropes under a boat in the busy Channel is not a safe option.

From the yacht harbour in busy Ramsgate, along the higher promenade (above a real English White Cliff) and onto the coastal cycle route, heading south towards Deal and Walmer, via Sandwich. I was only momentarily distracted by the road signs pointing the way to a Dover Sandwich Deal. I didn’t need one. Only 13 miles to go to today’s final destination and I still have half a cheese & ham sarney and 6 more fig rolls.

Day 80  Weds 8 June: Apparently, you can circumnavigate the entire globe in a basket dangling from a big balloon in 80 days. Fondo, your days are numbered. We’ve barely reached 4,000 miles in that time.  Where’s the nearest bicycle/balloon part-exchange centre?

Having already cycled all the way up stream along the Thames from Southend to Teddington and a good way back, I decided to join a few commuters and tourists this morning and took a short spin on the amazing Thames Water Bus to get a good photo of the floating Tower Lifeboat Station from the water before I started riding east along the South Bank London exit route. Well worth using. Incredible acceleration, great views from the river. Must return one day to try the whole journey. Meanwhile, back on the bike. Following the river isn’t the shortest, quickest way out of town but Greenwich was a must. Terrific new wave-form, glass visitor centre surrounding the Cutty Stark. Almost as clever as the Brunel’s SS Great Britain ‘afloat’ in its original dry dock in Bristol.

A long, hot drag out to Gravesend. Thanks Ian (Duty Helm) for the warm welcome, icy cold drink and kind words of encouragement. Thanks Wayne (volunteer crew on loan from Dover) for the help with contacts around the Kent coast. Thanks Graham, for the great tales of characters assisted at sea, particularly Coracle Man, an old chap found paddling his tiny coracle up the Thames estuary, carrying just a huge, painted ostrich egg. When questioned,  he informed the Lifeboat crew that he was “taking The Egg of Peace to the Womb of The Ocean”. Graham, keen to know the location of The Womb of The Ocean and concerned about how far Coracle Man was hoping to paddle, asked the obvious question.  “Just off Clacton Pier” came the reply.

On to Sheerness. Another long haul, along some of the most sporadic cycle routes in a very bicycle unfriendly part of the country. The occasional strips of green tar and even less frequent blue Cycle Route signs that were to be found were appreciated. Shame there’s no sign of them being joined up. Even more of a shame to discover some old dedicated cycle routes so neglected, overgrown or blocked by parked cars. No wonder there are no other cyclists to be seen in this densely packed, two speed (flat out or stuck in a traffic queue) car dominated world.

The approach to Sheerness Lifeboat Station brought back memories of the industrial dock approach to Workington in North West England, some 58 cycling days ago. But grimmer. Once upon a time, a very busy Naval dock yard. Now very quiet, abandoned buildings and boat yards dominate. At the far end of this old dock yard, the Lifeboat crew were gathering for this evening’s training exercise. Within 5 minutes of my arrival, a chorus of pagers began to bleep. A shout! A call from the Coastguard for the Inshore Lifeboat to launch. With everyone already on site, the D Class ILB was immediately in the water with three fully kitted crew, speeding out through the harbour entrance. Just a few minutes later, the signal to ‘stand down’ was received.  Oh well, at least they were ready! Back to the planned exercise. Good to meet a few of the crew. Thanks Robin (Cox’n) for the 145th signature on the hallowed, fraying chart. Did you know that this corner of the old Sheerness dock yard is host to a very unusual translucent scorpion that only comes out at night, not seen anywhere else in Britain? No, neither did I. But Bill Oddie knows. He paid them a visit.

If it was windier, I might have expected esturial tumble weed to roll by. Was that another distant rumble of thunder? No. Time to refill my very empty tank.

Day 79  Thurs 2 June:  The Lifeboat Stations visited today are amongst the newest RNLI Stations in the country. A new search and rescue service for the River Thames was announced on 22 January, 2001. The RNLI was asked by the Government to provide lifeboat cover, the first time specifically covering a river rather than estuarial waters, coastlines and open sea. This came as a result of the findings of the Thames Safety Inquiries into the collision between the pleasure cruiser The Marchioness and the dredger Bowbelle, which resulted in the loss of 51 lives in 1989.

The boats used at Tower and Chiswick are a completely new class of ILB, only found on the Thames. These E Class boats are the fastest on the fleet, with a capability of 40 knots, powered through water jets rather than props. So clearly, that’s why so many people in London are keen to join the RNLI. Big boys’ & big girls’ powerful toys. If you’re lucky, you can even be paid to do this as a full time job. Unusual in the RNLI, where most crew members are volunteers. More seriousy, full time paid or volunteer crew, this is not all fun. These stations are by far the busiest, most frequently called out in the country, by a huge margin, with hundreds of calls for assistance each year. The closest any of the coastal lifeboats comes to this is at nearby Southend-on-Sea, historically (and still) the busiest of the original A/ILB Stations.

I suppose this demand is understandable, with one of the world’s biggest, densely populated cities being built on the banks of such a huge river. People and water. A vital, but deadly combination. This is where the RNLI’s “Respect the Water” campaign began. The idea that people need educating about such obvious dangers may seem a bit condescending, but the evidence is out there. We are an amazingly sophisticated, intelligent species, but with a habit of losing all sense of our own limitations and capabilities when faced with the lure of some nice sparkly water. I’ve probably touched on this before but mke no apologies for repetition, deviation, hesitation or repetition  …. As well as the tragic accidents, there are increasingly frequent reports of non accidental use of bridges as a permanent and final escape from life’s problems, stresses and strains. When a Lifeboat crew returns to base with a live rescue accomplished, the crew’s reward has to be the huge satisfaction of being part of a job well done and that important sense of purpose in life and usefulness to their fellow beings. However, when the call comes too late and the rescue becomes a matter of search and recovery, that’s when the job must become pretty grim.
On a more cheerful note, the Chiswick and Teddington crew members we have met today, like the Tower crew already mentioned on Day 78, are positive, professional, friendly folk with a realistic outlook. I say “we”, as today I have the pleasure of my own personal local guide, my Barnes based cycling sister Linda, who has clearly done ‘The Knowledge’, the London Cabbies’ complete absorption of the London A-Z Street Map. She has the uncanny knack of finding a seemingly circuitous route, via much more interesting landmarks (each accompanied by a fascinating anecdote or snippet of local history) and still able to arrive at the destination the same day. Something to fall back on when times get hard. I think the lifeboat crew members we met today were as fascinated by my enthusiastic sister as I was by them and their Lifeboats. Many thanks to Peter (Duty Helm), John and Holly (crew) at Chiswick for the great welcome, coffee and full tour of the amazing E Class boat. The first time I’ve boarded one.

On to Teddington Lock, via Richmond Park and maybe the Brecon Beacons. Great cycling roads. Who’d have thought we were just a stone’s throw from the bustling City centre? On arrival at Teddington ILB Station, we were very warmly welcomed by Tim James (voluntary crew member) and Hillary Saw, Chair of the local Lifeboat committee. This ILB Station uses two D class boats, covering a long stretch of the river, up and downstream, centred around Teddington Lock. Maybe not as busy as Chiswick and Tower, but still very much needed and at least as busy as a typical coastal ILB Station.

It had already been a very successful day and it wasn’t over yet.  The next event was intirely masterminded by my very enterprising genius of a sister. Never one to miss an opportunity, Linda had planned an RNLI fundraising event, an evening drinks party at her home in Barnes. A great success. A big thank you to Linda’s very kind friends, colleagues and neighbours for the many donations already received via the online giving page, including some of those who couldn’t make it on the night but still made generous contributions to the RNLI. Another great big thank you to my sister for providing the venue, the good food & drink and for successfully kidnapping one of the Teddington crew we’d met earlier in the day. Thanks Tim, the real-life local London Lifeboatman, for being there and sharing your experiences. Most illuminating and much appreciated by all.

If you’d like to support my fundraising challenge, please click  here , where every pound raised will go directly to the RNLI, the charity that saves lives at sea. And on the Thames! Thank you. Steven.

Day 78 Tues 31 May: I needn’t have set the alarm. The sound of driving rain on my window pane was loud enough. Mustn’t complain, (but I know I will) it’s been a while since I spent the day cycling through wind-driven downpours such as this. At least it’s not very cold, so no extra layers needed beneath the new (2nd replacement) Pack-a-Jack. Such a neat piece of kit. It packs away into its own tiny bag, weighs nothing and, like a Jack-in-the-box (that’s today’s ration of hyphens used up already) it springs into life on release. The problem is …  they’re so compact and lightweight, I keep losing them.

The routine but sincere thanks go to Dave and Jeremy at Burnham-on-Crouch (not-on-Sea, that was way back in Somerset) Inshore Lifeboat Station for turning out in this foul weather. But then again, you’re probably used to braving the elements. Tucked in the corner of the very tidy, square Burnham Yacht Harbour, this is one of only three lifeboat stations that keep their inshore lifeboats in floating boathouses. With both a B Class Atlantic and a D Class ILB, they’re pretty well prepared to handle most types of emergencies on the Rivers Crouch & Roach, both upstream and around the challenging tidal estuaries. The next thank you goes to Jon, the Burnham water taxi/ferry man who wasn’t put off by the conditions. By the time we’d loaded Fondo onto his boat, the rain had eased but the NW wind and fast ebbing tide slowed the crossing to Wallasea Island. No matter. Without Jon’s boat, it would have been another 24 mile detour into deepest Essex and back again to Southend-on-Sea. (I know what you’re thinking but don’t worry, I’ve found a spare packet of hyphens).

What a shame. My first visit to Southend-on-Sea, where I imagined the sun always shines. A chill wind, heavy clouds and well wrapped families huddling together, determined to enjoy their half-term holiday. At least the rain had stopped. Two interesting facts for those not already aware: 1. Southend’s leisure pier is the longest in The World, at 1.3miles.  2. The same pier is the home for both of the RNLI Station’s boat houses, with one at each end.

So, why does Southend have two lifeboat sheds and four rescue craft? I hear you ask. A clue to the answer is found in RNLI statistics, which confirm that this is the busiest coastal lifeboat station in all of Britain & Ireland. They have two davit launched boats (an Atlantic 85 and a D Class ILB) at the pier head. At the shore end, there is a hovercraft and another D Class.

At first, I was quite disappointed yesterday to hear, from Captain Brian Wood (LOM) that I might have to go to the far end of the pier to find a crew member or RNLI Shop volunteer to sign my chart. Then I became quite excited by the prospect of pedalling Fondo all that way out into the Thames estuary. On arrival, I was crushed to hear that bicycles were not permitted on the pier and the trains only run on the half-hour. Then, very pleased to bump into someone wearing an RNLI cap. It was David, RNLI Shop Manager, who’d be delighted to sign my chart at this, the shore end of the pier. Thank you David. With hindsight, I should have been more determined to get to the far end. Having since read some of the fascinating history of the pier and its connection with the RNLI, this is definitely near the top of the Must Return Here list.

So, here we go. After a restorative seaside ham & cheese toastie, I was ready for the run in to London. I was expecting the first 35 of the remaining 43 miles to Tower ILB Station to be difficult , but quite excited about the remaining 8 miles into the City and cycling along the Embankment.  I was wrong. The first 35 miles were not difficult. They were Hell on Wheels. One day, I will allow myself to rant in full, in an attempt to purge the experience. For now, let’s just accept that it was a major shock to the system after almost 4,000 miles of Britain’s coast roads. The density of traffic. The fumes. The noise. The dreadful road surfaces. The intermittent cycle lanes, which simply disappear after a curt END OF CYCLE ROUTE sign, at the point when you need one most. The hazardous junk littering the near-side of the road. The determination of some drivers to get as close as possible when overtaking then start cutting in before they’ve passed …  And then, everything changed. At the first glimpse of familiar London landmarks on the horizon, the route was transformed. I was suddenly speeding along an uncluttered, dedicated, blue surfaced, two-way Cycle Super Highway, with clear separation, underpasses at major junctions, clear route signs leading me straight into the City Centre.  …  bliss. And what a magical City this still is.

Tower, my first of the four relatively new Thames Lifeboat Stations to visit, is unique in that the whole station is afloat on the Thames, against the Embankment in the shadow of Waterloo Bridge, more than a mile upstream from Tower Bridge. Thanks Stuart, the full time Duty Helm, Steve, full time crew and Bob, volunteer crew, for the warm welcome and hot tea. Much more on this and the other Thames Lifeboats tomorrow. My blogability is fading fast after this long, exciting, exhausting day. There’s just enough of a spark to thank my dear sister Linda, long term resident of this fair city, for meeting me on her bicycle at Putney Bridge and leading the way along the south side river path to her home in Barnes. A big tasty meal, big glasses of wine, big hot shower, big cosy bed. What more could I ask of a big sister?  Loads. Tomorrow. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

If you’d like to support my fundraising challenge, please click  here , where every pound raised will go directly to the RNLI, the charity that saves lives at sea. And on the Thames! Thank you. Steven.

Day 77  Monday 31 May:   Essex, the county of so many river estuaries, flowing into the English Channel above the mouth of the Thames itself. A lacey filigree of a coastline with high tide islands and low tide mudflats.
Straight line distances between Lifeboat Stations here are generally quite short. Two of Fondo’s shortcomings, a lack of wings and no floats, usually rule out these short routes. Cycleable routes are usually much longer, around an estuary or up to the next bridge. There are however, some great little foot ferries in convenient places, allowing us to stay closer to the preferred notion of this being a coastal cycle ride.
The first leg however, offers no option. It’s the inland route, skirting the Hamford Water Nature Reserve, then back to the coast at Walton (on the Naze) and Frinton ALB Station. “Walton and Frinton has celebrated over 120 years as a lifeboat station and its crews have been presented with 75 awards for gallantry. The lifeboat was one of 19 lifeboats that helped to evacuate the British Expeditionary Force from Dunkirk”.  More recently, just 50 years ago in 1966 “The Thanks of the Institution Inscribed on Vellum was awarded to Coxswain Frank Bloom and to each of his crew for their assistance given to the radio ship Mi Amigo (Radio Caroline)”.    Meanwhile, many thanks to two current crew members, Richard and Trevor for picking up the messages and being there. Unlike most Lifeboat Stations this one, sitting proudly above Walton Pier, displays it’s service boards on the outside of the building, for all to read, any time of day. Down below, tied up alongside the pier, the present day Tamar Allweather Lifeboat lays waiting for its next historic or equally important routine distress call. Whichever it is, it’s ready for the next shout.

A short, coast hugging ride past Frinton (“No picnicking upon the Greensward”), along the sea wall via Holland on Sea to Clacton ILB.  Thanks Richard and Tristan, ILB crew, for the cheery welcome. Here, by happy coincidence, I had the privilege of meeting a fellow ‘collector’ of Lifeboat Stations, the young  Harry Mascall  (as seen on TV!) and his equally amazing mum & dad. I’m not competitive, I’m a serious grown-up. But the race is on!

Time to find another ‘foot ferry’. No straight line option but the crossing of the River Colne from Brightlingsea to East Mersea cut out the 20+ mile inland detour via Colchester. The beach landing at the eastern end of Mersea island was a bit like a military assault. The ramp dropped as the mini landing craft hit the beach. But I was the only trooper, my weapon was a bicycle and nobody seemed interested in defending East Mersea. Having carried and pushed Fondo up and over the heavy going, steep shingle beach, the rest of the route to West Mersea was a doddle, a short & sweet 5 mile dash. The Lifeboat Station in this popular and very busy sailing venue was surrounded by tightly packed yachts and other leisure craft, all seeming to be jostling for position as close as possible to the all-protecting lifeboat. As the temperature dropped and the wind ‘freshenned’, the whistling and clattering of so much cable rigging pinging against hollow masts created an audible, exaggerated wind chill factor that sent icy shivers down the spine. Thankfully, the boathouse was still open. A welcome haven. Many thanks to Martin (LOM) for all the help and useful travel advice before and after my arrival, and to all the lovely lady volunteers in the RNLI shop. Already beginning to feel a bit travel weary, it was quite an effort to get going again, knowing that the last leg of the day was the longest. Another 30 miles to go, with no more ferry options. The north bound start of a big C shaped route around the Blackwater estuary, via Maldon was a struggle, with a very unfreshenning headwind.

Burnham-on-Crouch, today’s final destination, was eventually reached. Ye Olde White Harte Inne, built in the days when everything had to end in an e, was a sighte for sore eyes, achinge limbes and an empty stomache.

Day 76   Sun 29 May:   My four days off, relaxing in Lowestoft, are over. Lawns mown. Fondo cleaned, checked & oiled.  Promenade promenaded. The Jolly Sailor visited, good local beer and great live music from Murphy’s Lore enjoyed. Beccles food & drink festival attended. Not quite Abergavenny but this is only their second year. Busy, good atmosphere and some great local produce.
Oh, and a Lifeboat Station visited. Quite a significant one. The Easterly Cardinal point of Britain is Ness Point, Lowestoft. The Southery mainland Cardinal point, The Lizard also has an RNLI ALB Station, where I shall, sometime this summer collect the last signature before moving on to Penlee, back where it all started, thus pushing the pin into the final link of an unbroken chain around the British mainland. The most Westerly (Ardnamurchan) and Northerly (Dunnet Head) mainland Cardinal points are both in Scotland. Neither of these has a Lifeboat Station but I did manage to get quite close to both. Perhaps, one day on a mountain bike or more likely, in a pair of walking boots. I digress.
Thanks to John Fox, the Lowestoft Cox’n/mech, for fitting me in, between two school visits. Great to catch up with the local ALB Station. A few changes since my last visit at the end of the first RNLI Fundraiser two years ago (the widest West to East, coast to coast cycle ride, 400miles from St David’s to Lowestoft). Most noticeably, the old Tyne Class has gone, replaced by a lovely new Shannon Class boat.

Time to get back on the road.
If every day was like today, this adventure would be over too quickly. Light traffic, northerly wind assistance, good roads. The first 15 miles to Southwold took just 50 minutes. A warm welcome from Philip and Rosemary at the RNLI Shop. Thanks also for the kind donation, to the Institution that you already give a great deal of your own time!
Southwold ILB Station is a mile or so from the town, in the harbour at the mouth of the river Blyth. Not only was I treated to a tour of the modern ILB Station, with its davit launched Atlantic 85 but also a quick tour (must return for a fuller appreciation) of the beautifully restored original 1893 Southwold Lifeboat, the Alfred Corry, in the salvaged and similarly restored old boat house from Cromer pier. My guide, David Craigie (DLA), is the great grandson of one of the original Alfred Corry Lifeboatmen. Thanks David, a real privilege to meet you.

The route continues through this green and pleasant Suffolk landscape,  inland of Minsmere and back to the coast at Aldeburgh. The bold, modern Lifeboat Station houses the pride of the crew, a serious contender for the most immaculately maintained Mersey Lifeboat on the RNLI fleet. Stripping the paint off all the copper pipes and brass steel fittings in the boat house and keeping them well polished could be described as obsessive but James, the full time Lifeboat mechanic explained that this attention to detail has a more practical purpose when applied to his Lifeboat. He is much more likely to spot potential leaks, cracks, wear & tear in components and systems. Thanks James, for the great tour; Charlie (LOM), for the tea & world-righting chat; Steve ‘Tag’ Saint (Cox’n) for the autograph and kind words. In lieu of the lack of photos with recent blogs, take a look at these amazing photos by Jack Lowe at The Lifeboat Station Project .
Yes, they really are contemporary but taken and processed with early Victorian technology, from the 1850s. Since first discovering Jack’s stunning photographs last year, I have now met a good number of his subjects. It sometimes takes a while to accept that the bold monochrome images are not characters of days long gone. They are the very much alive, active and colourful Lifeboat men and women of the here and now.

Another very pleasant 30 miles of Suffolk landscapes (Snape Maltings etc) before entering Essex at Harwich. This would have been more like 50 if it wasn’t for the two very useful foot/cycle ferry links from Bawdsey to Felixstowe across the River Deben and Felixstowe to Harwich across the Orwell and Stour.

Thanks so much to Dave (mech) for the great welcome at this major, busy Harwich All Weather Lifeboat Station. The first and oldest Severn Class plus an Atlantic 85, covering hundreds of square miles of busy, treacherous waters. Thanks also to John (crew) and his dad Bob for the very professional photo shoot! I was very relieved each time Bob climbed down from the stepladder without incident.

A bed for the night in The Stingray, a lively and friendly Inn in the historic harbour town of Olde Harwich. It just happens to be disco night in the bar beneath my room. I had been warned, but reassured that it would all be over by 1 a.m. Well,  if you can’t beat ’em, … But first, a good meal in their adjoining Crown Post Restaurant, where Vicky, the winner of the National Speed Waiting Championships moved in a constant blur of activity, only pausing to smile as she deftly presented each dish. An impressive solo act, if you don’t count the dumb waiter (ie. the small porter’s lift) she filled with used dishes, pressed the button, ran downstairs to empty and reload with plates of hot food ordered a moment earlier and reappeared, completely unflustered, in perfect time to open the little elevator and gleefully distribute its contents. If I hadn’t already been close to nodding off, just watching Vicky at work would have been exhausting enough to ensure that I enjoyed a good night’s sleep. Disco? What disco?   The generous full English breakfast was followed by the most unexpected kind gesture from Jamie, the proprietor and supporter of the local Lifeboat. No charge.

Most people are good. Some are just amazing. If you ever find yourself in Olde Harwich, please go and spend lots of money in The Stingray and put all your loose change in the Lifeboat collection box on the bar. Or if that’s an unlikely scenario for you this evening, stay at home and bung the cost of a beer or two in  here  and it’ll go directly to the RNLI.

Thanks.