New Forest & Isle of Wight

OK - Craig knowingly stuffed up the order of the blog because he is far too lazy and couldn't be bothered including our weekend away for the last bank holiday weekend in August. So I thought I would add it before it became too late.

So the UK being UK means that if you want to go abroad on a bank holiday, you will:
a) need to book early
b) you will need a spend a bit more money than usual
c) you will need to have a lot of patience at the airports.

So if this is case, one needs to explore exactly what is on your doorstep - so it was off to the New Forest for us. Only 2 hours south on the train from central London - we were transported to a place that seems a million miles away on the south coast of England, bordering nearby Dorset. We arrived in a place called Brockenhurst, where we were to base ourselves for the next three nights in a B&B, which was nice, but the beds were going to prove a little too hard for me, particularly for what was going to hit us in the next three days.

The first morning, we had to make our way down the road and across the train station car-park to where we were to pick up our trusty steeds - two mountain bikes. We picked these up from Country Lane cycles, who organised the whole trip including accommodation, maps, bikes and right down to t-shirts and waterbottles.

So we were off on our first of three days cycling - not without getting lost in the first half hour trying to take a short-cut. The first day led us through the forest at first, where we spotted our first New Forest ponies. These fellas have been allowed to wander through the forest, and the villages within the forest, for centuries. They are owned by the "commoners" and generally just wander wherever they like. So those living in the forest need to control these horses somewhat by putting in cattle grids, and having fences and gates surrounding their houses. I had also read that these ponies were thought to have swam off the sinking Spanish ships off the coast of England back in the day - but these ponies are no longer purebred. The Victorians, the meddling blighters that they were, introduced arab stallions into the herd to make the ponies look better!!

So anyway, the first days journey was 30.5 miles - leading through the villages of Beaulieu and Exbury Gardens - which was a hard slog up a hill. Thank goodness we had picked up some lunch at a local bakery/farm shop, so we could rest under the trees in this massive garden.
Of course cycling for this amount of distance, gave us a powerful hunger. So that night was spent in the garden of this enormous pub back at Brockenhurst eating the biggest help yourself roast that you could get.

The next morning, we jumped on the train down to Lymington Pier, and then onto the ferry to the Isle of Wight. This was going to be the hilliest of our journeys but we stayed on one side of the island to stay away from the built-up areas.

(Craig and I at the top of one of these big hills).


Of course travelling 25 miles, we were bound to create a powerful sweat. So, it is only at these times that we braved the waters of the sea for a swim - and chilly it was, until we put our shoulders in, where it wasn't so bad. (Always the way). Weirdly enough, we got chatting to a few people next to us on the beach, who were not only from NZ, but one of the girls was from Koraha St, just around the corner from where I grew up. I know it is not that uncommon to run into kiwis whilst in England or Europe - but that was a little spooky. As we had spent too long getting to IOW, and sitting on the beach (and the fact that I was knackered), we decided to skip Alum Bay (which has multi-coloured cliffs) and the Needles - apparently a nice, but overly developed "fun-park" beach.

Our final day was actually the easiest. Mainly because we did our tour backwards - in case other people were doing the tour the normal way and it was going to get busy. The trip was called the Burley Loop and only 22.7 miles and flat. Here we went past the oldest tree in the forest, the Knightwood Oak at over 400 years old. Lunch was an old-fashioned devonshire tea and a gentle cycle along some disued railway (without the tracks as that would be a bit naff).

So we went home a little tireder and fitter but happy we got to be outside and away from the crowds (well not too many). Definitely worth going back again, even for a day trip (as the train down there does take cycles - and the paths are possibly flat enough and dry enough in parts for my hybrid).

The end...