1925 HOLIDAY TOUR – CHATER-LEA – CYCLOMETER 1625

SATURDAY 15TH AUGUST

Queen Elizabeth’s bedstead…

TWICKENHAM – MAIDENHEAD – HENLEY – BENSON – OXFORD – EYNSHAM – MINSTER LOVELL – BURFORD

After a great rush the previous evening and working late at the office I got started about 7.45 a.m. taking the usual road to the end of the first stage which seems to be the inevitable first day’s trip on these holiday tours. The flat, uninteresting stretch to Maidenhead was soon covered though broken by sundry stops to adjust luggage which had presented some difficulties owing to the position of the Chater-Lea brakes.

Henley, past the long pull up to Nettlebed was taken easily and some of the steepest parts walked. Then we made up speed to our first stopping place ‘The Three Horseshoes’ at Benson, which, as usual, supplied us with extremely excellent bread and cheese and ale. We walked through Oxford which, it just being 1 o’clock, was crowded with the usual heterogeneous collection of cyclists, since it is not term time, business people leaving the city for their Saturday half holiday. A few cakes in Oxford supplemented the midday bread and cheese and another stop was made near Eynsham for some fizzy liquid of unknown manufacture to wash down the solids. There was tons of time for half an hour’s rest and reflection on the grass close by Witney Church and also to explore once again the village of Minster Lovell and the adjacent ruins, and we arrived at Burford in time for an early tea after which a long walk down the old Cirencester Road gave us a good appetite for supper.

The ‘Swan’ was invaded by a large contingent of the Manchester District Association of the C.T. C. North West Section. Consequently for this night we had to sleep out at ‘Smith’s’ a few doors away in an ancient four post bedstead in one of the most ancient houses in Burford, the very house and bedstead Queen Elizabeth would have slept in had she ever come to Burford, but we slept nonetheless sound for that after the exertions of the day, the cycling part of which amounted to 76 miles.

SUNDAY 16TH AUGUST

To the Slaughters…

BURFORD – BOURTON-ON-THE-WATER – UPPER AND LOWER SLAUGHTER – LOWER SWELL – SHERBORNE – BURFORD

Another brilliant day during which the sun shone continuously. There was plenty of grub to satisfy the crowd of 16 who sat down to breakfast at the ‘Swan’ and we spent some time afterwards wandering around before starting out for the day.

We were determined to take things easy and set out up the Stow road turning off about a mile past the ‘Merry Mouth’ through Little Rissington to Bourton-on-the-Water, one of the most charming little towns in Gloucestershire. From there we made our way to Upper and Lower Slaughter, both of which are perfect gems in their way but as time was getting on we began to get nervous about our midday sustenance and were horrified at being informed that the nearest house of call was at Lower Swell about three miles away. Thence we departed without delay and had a satisfying repast of the usual bread and cheese and beer at the ‘Golden Ball’ with a company of village worthies all engaged in the discussion of the approaching football season.

Having done full justice to the bread and cheese we made our way back to Lower Slaughter once more and on by a very rough and hilly route to Sherborne getting back to the ‘Swan’ along the valley of the Windrush through the village of that name and Little Barrington to the main road. The evening was spent wandering around the town and discussing cycling topics with the sporting cyclists who had arrived at the ‘Swan’ for the night.

Distance ridden: 29 miles

MONDAY 17TH AUGUST

The wasp sting…

BURFORD – STOW-ON-THE-WOLD – MORETON-IN-MARSH – STRETTON-ON-FOSSE – WELLESBOURNE – WARWICK – STRATFORD-UPON-AVON – LONG COMPTON – SHIPTON – BURFORD

The weather still holds good and both of us being in need of a quiet time had decided overnight to stay one more night in Burford in the sure comfort of the ‘Swan’. E.B.P. fell in with my suggestion of visiting the ancient town of Warwick, familiar to and well esteemed by me but erstwhile unvisited by him.

Hence the Stow road was again our start, taking the usual hour for the 10 miles to the bleak town of Stow-on-the-Wold. The 4½ miles down into Moreton-in-Marsh was a trifle rougher than I traversed it last year but was nevertheless very enjoyable as was also the refreshment of which we partook at the ‘Golden Cross’, Stretton-on-Fosse, a curious little village with a very sleepy railway station where the station master, ticket clerk, head porter etc. seemed to amuse themselves by propelling themselves along the line by a species of hand cycle. And so on that superb surfaced road through Halford and Ettington to Wellesbourne, where we struck a most comfortable rest house for our midday bread and cheese and beer, the ‘Old Stag’s Head’, the only thing which marred my enjoyment was a wasp sting on my neck which worried me for days afterwards.

A few more miles passing through Barford brought us to Warwick where we spent a couple of hours exploring the quaint old streets and the picturesque Avon and then onto Stratford which did not impress me any more than it did on my last visit five years ago.

Here we had an indifferent tea at the ‘Shakespeare Restaurant’ before making our way back to Burford by way of Alderminster, Tredington, Shipston-on-Stour and Long Compton, a straggling but picturesque village much frequented by the Birmingham Cyclist as evidenced by the numerous tea places showing the C.T.C. sign. However we had tea and wanted something more sustaining which we obtained in a tiny bar parlour of the ‘Red Lion’. The stiff road through Chipping Norton and Shipton gave us a further thirst which was satisfied at the ‘Red House’ at the latter place, and it was about 8.30 p.m. before we finally arrived back to the ‘Swan’ for supper and after a run of some 79 miles.

TUESDAY 18TH AUGUST

A precipitous descent…

FILKINS – LECHLADE – FAIRFORD – CIRENCESTER – BIRDLIP – GLOUCESTER – HUCCLECOTE – CHURCHAM – HUNTLEY – ROSS-ON-WYE

Having made up our minds to move on, after the usual heavy breakfast we decided to proceed no further than Ross. We took a circuitous route on the old Cirencester road, the misty and damp morning showing signs that the weather would further deteriorate.

E.B.P.’s back brake gave way soon after the start and neither Filkins nor Lechlade seemed to possess a likely looking repair shop but the job was finally done at Fairford. However, too much time had been lost to allow us to spend much time at the Ampneys. I had a little light refreshment at the ‘Bull’ at Fairford while E.B.P’s repairs were made.

Cirencester was looking as attractive as usual, but there was a lack of sun and we went straight on the long pull up to Birdlip where we had a very excellent tea at the ‘Golden Heart’ before undertaking the precipitous descent into Gloucester through the insalubrious suburb of Hucclecote with its five miles of bad tramlines. Then for the toughish bit of road through Churcham and Huntley to Ross stopping on the way at the ‘King’s Head’ about 6 miles on the way for light refreshments. The good woman who managed the establishment also went in extensively for poultry and fruit farming, and insisted on our filling our pockets with freshly picked plums before we left, which were very useful on the way.

At Ross we, as usual, made for the ‘Gwalia’ and also, as usual were made welcome and comfortable by Mrs Pugh and so, after supper and a stroll out to the prospect, to bed after a very satisfactory day’s riding amounting to 54 miles.

WEDNESDAY 19TH AUGUST

Purring like young tea kettles…

ROSS – PETERSTOW – MUCH BIRCH – HEREFORD – BRIDGE SOLLERS – STAUNTON – WELLERSLEY – KINGTON – LLANFIHANGEL NANT MELAN

Ross, like Ludlow, is rarely kind to us in the way of weather and the outlook in the morning was a far from cheerful one – a cloudy dull sky being accompanied by drizzling rain; but we have learned long ago to take no account of the weather, so after breakfast we prepared to continue our pilgrimage, taking the familiar road in relentless rain to Hereford via Peterstow and Much Birch where the ‘Axe and Cleaver’ supplied us with our first refreshment and a breather without our capes.

Hereford was looking dull and cheerless in the rain and we continued straight on our way through Bridge Sollers, Staunton and Wellersley to Kington, that pleasant little town just this side of the Welsh border, just beyond which we had a very pleasant feed of bread and cheese and beer at the ‘Three Horseshoes’, a very ancient little pub which has recently been very badly restored by the proprietors.

Soon after this the rain eased off enough to allow of our discarding our capes permanently and we took it gently up the long slopes to New Radnor and finally arrived at the ‘Red Lion’ at Llanfihangel Nant Melan. After the usual mediation, which seems inseparable from obtaining accommodation in Wales, on the part of Mrs Williams, the landlady, she finally decided that we might stay there for a day or two and we were soon sitting down to an excellent tea befitting the reputation which this beautifully situated little inn has gained among cycling folk.

The evening turned out fine and sunny and we set out for a stroll along this wondrous mountain road accompanied by the two dogs belonging to the ‘Red Lion’, Skip and Rover, a very lively pair. And we returned to our inn as dusk was falling with that deep feeling of satisfaction of having struck a lovely district and a comfortable billet. Skip had in the meantime gone hunting on her own and captured a nice young rabbit, which was duly taken home for tomorrow’s dinner. We were dossing in a double bedded room and after expelling one small tortoiseshell kitten who came in at the window, were invaded by a large cat and two more kittens all purring like young tea kettles. As it seemed impossible to keep entirely cat free we had to put up with them and they gave us no trouble.

Distance ridden: 43 miles

THURSDAY 20TH AUGUST

A mere 21 miles…

LLANFIHANGEL NANT MELAN – NEW RADNOR – KINGTON – KINNERTON – LLANFIHANGEL NANT MELAN

Got up feeling lazy and content with our surroundings and after a very excellent breakfast and inspection of the garden and livestock (cows, pigs, rabbits, chickens and ducks), we set out for a short exploration leaving word that we should be back to lunch. Retracing yesterday’s route as far as New Radnor for the purpose of photographing the curious ruin used as the local branch of Barclays Bank, we turned off to the left on a road to Kington, which was mostly hill climbing and very rough, so that by the time we had got to the village of Kinnerton it was time to think of returning for lunch.

Lunch was an event, the first course consisting of Skip’s kill of yesterday evening marvellously dished up with other things followed by plum tart and cream. We cleared everything up so as to get into form for the tramp we had planned for the afternoon. We had not gone far on our way (accompanied by Skip) before a very high hill attracted us, and, encouraged by the bounding Skip, we started to climb it. It was quite easy at first, but half way up E.B.P. had had enough of it. I went on progressing mostly on all fours until it got very difficult being mostly loose shale. Then I turned round and was appalled at what I had to descend, and having made up my mind that I was going to roll down and make a splash on the tiny strip which represented the road below, took two hasty photos and commenced the return journey.

This was a very trying experience but was accomplished at last without any broken bones. We then walked on across country trying to find the famous waterfall ‘Water Breaks-Its-Neck’ but with rain coming on we were compelled to return. After tea we took another walk round and I had a short run up the Llandrindod road to try a new position for my handlebars but the whole day’s riding only totalled a mere 21 miles.

FRIDAY 21ST AUGUST

A wash out in Llandovery

LLANFIHANGEL NANT MELAN – BUILTH WELLS – CILMERY – BEULAH SPA – LLANWRTYD WELLS – LLANDOVERY – LLANDILO

We made preparations for leaving the pleasant ‘Red Lion’ with much regret promising ourselves another visit there some day but we wanted to get on into new country. We accordingly took the road to Builth Wells and a pleasant enough road too. Builth, quite a popular Spa, did not strike us as a particularly attractive town but the River Wye is very pretty about here and is spanned by a very picturesque bridge. The weather was getting rather doubtful as we proceeded through rather plain country after some very excellent bread and cheese and Bass at the ‘Prince Llewellyn Inn’, Cilmery, to Beulah Spa and Llanwrtyd Wells. The latter is a very popular Welsh pleasure resort and was full of provincial holidaymakers, but we heard no word of English in the town. We could not fathom where its attractions lie though the surrounding country is extremely picturesque.

After leaving Llanwrtyd there is a long climb of some miles up to the top of the Sugar Loaf. The view from the top of this hill is of the wildest description and its terrifying aspect was enhanced by an approaching storm, which soon began to dampen us. The descent of this hill was one of the roughest and most tricky we have come across.

When we got into Llandovery the steady rain became a perfect deluge and soon the streets of this not too interesting town were flooded. We took refuge beneath a thick chestnut tree for about an hour, but with the deluge showing no signs of abating, we thought we should get no wetter by continuing onto Llangadog where we had had good reports of the ‘Red Lion’ and proposed having tea there. However, when Llangadog was reached we decided not to stop for tea in our drenched condition but to make for Llandilo, 11 miles further on, the storm still continuing in full force. Llandilo proved to be quite a nice little town so we decided to put up there for the night, the ‘Castle Hotel’ supplying us with a very satisfactory tea and quite good accommodation. The rain ceased enough to enable us to have a walk round the town about 8 o’clock before supper and bed.

Distance ridden: 47 miles

SATURDAY 22ND AUGUST

Queen of the Welsh Watering Places

LLANDILO – CARMARTHEN – BANCYFELIN – ST. CLEARS – TENBY

Got up to a fine day after our damp experiences of yesterday and after having a look round Llandilo, which was very busy it being market day, set off for Carmarthen via Abergwili – a very good and pleasant road, though the country hereabouts has more of an English aspect than any other part of Wales we have visited.

Carmarthen is a long, straggling town which was also very busy for market day and we walked through most of it before continuing on our way via Bancyfelin where at the ‘Wheatsheaf’ we were regaled with excellent bread and cheese and beer and excellently entertained by conversation with a very intelligent cattle drover, a much travelled man who had even been as far afield as ‘England’, that is to say ‘Ross’. He expressed surprise at seeing us on bicycles as they are very rare in these parts which rather surprised us seeing how excellent were the roads and pleasant the country.

St. Clears is the next big town but it did not impress us and then, after passing through the smaller village of Llanddowror, there commences a 3-mile climb up to the village of Red Roses. With the sun being rather powerful we were not particularly sorry to get to the top since from here onwards the road is a strenuous one. We came on an isolated coal mine at Kilgetty where we turned off to the left down to Tenby, which is quite justly termed the ‘Queen of the Welsh Watering Places’. Situated on a promontory it seems to have the sea all round it, and with the rocky coast and Caldey Island looming up on the south, it has a diversified character not to be found in many other seaside resorts we have visited. We found fairly comfortable quarters at the ‘South Wales Hotel’ and after tea and a wash and exploration of the town, walked out to the Waterwynch – a very picturesque bit of coast about 2 miles out of the town. Here we basked in the sun for about an hour and incidentally I got soaked by a wave that came over a rock upon which I was sitting. We then returned to the town and after a very good supper went to bed praying for fine weather on the morrow.

Distance ridden: 42 miles

SUNDAY 23RD AUGUST

Blessing on the name of Jenkins!

TENBY – MANORBIER – PEMBROKE – TENBY

I learned that four motorcyclists, who arrived late last night and ‘kept it up’ until about 3 in the morning, had rather disturbed the hotel, but needless to say had not kept me awake. With the weather looking promising we set off after breakfast by the coast road to Pembroke making a detour after passing Lydstep to visit Manorbier, and it was well worth going out of our way for the village, the castle (inhabited) and the coast were most picturesque.

We regained the road near Jameston and reached Pembroke via Hodgeston and Lamphey, the latter quite a pleasant little village. Pembroke is the usual type of Welsh town but the castle (from what we saw of its outside) should be well worth investigation but it was closed to visitors on Sundays. We had forgotten that we were in Wales and came out unprovided with grub of any description and on my enquiring of a milkman – the only sign of life in the town – what time the pubs opened, he put me right by telling me they don’t in Wales, nor is any form of refreshment whatsoever allowed to be sold. To add to the discomfort this caused us, the storm that had long been threatening suddenly descended on us in full force, driving us to seek shelter under the castle entrance.

After about half an hour standing up we were spied by the local coal merchant Mr Jenkins who runs a refreshment business on a weekday, and he ushered us into his back kitchen where we were excellently regaled on roast lamb and mint sauce washed down by dry ginger – blessing on the name of Jenkins!

The rain ceased down after this repast1 so we made our way to Pembroke Dock – a scene of desolation now there is no war to keep it busy, and not picturesque, though there is a wide view over Milford Haven and so we returned taking a rough, more inland road back to Tenby via Penally. The evening being fine was spent loafing around in Tenby mostly around the harbour, and as dusk was coming down E.B.P. suddenly made up his mind he would like to see Salisbury – some 200 miles away. So we decided to turn our noses in that direction – wet or fine – on the morrow and so to bed with no noisy motorcyclists to disturb our repose this time.

Distance ridden: 29 miles

MONDAY 24TH AUGUST

Destination Brecon

TENBY – BANCYFELIN – LLANDEILO – LLANDOVERY – TRECASTLE – BRECON

After a final walk round the pleasant town of Tenby we started back the road we had come on Saturday – there being no alternative if we wished to get into Wiltshire, and the first part of it is, if anything, tougher than going the other way. My back tyre expired just outside the ‘Commercial Inn’ and, before repairing, we entered and though it was not yet opening time the landlady made no bones about supplying our needs in the way of bottled Bass. The main midday meal was, however, taken at the ‘Wheatsheaf’, Bancyfelin, and our visit brought luck to that quaint little hostelry for a lordly motor party drove up and partook of Bass and bread and cheese which so excited the landlady that she hurried within and changed her pattens2 for a pair of high heeled shoes.

We were badly in need of tea by the time we reached Llandeilo only to find that there was a great fair on at this exciting town and all eatables had been demolished. So we continued onto Llandovery where the ‘Wajfrin Restaurant’ provided us with a very excellent tea. We now started over new ground, our destination being Brecon, with the prospect of a continually rising road for about 10 miles but the rise was so gradual that it was hardly noticeable and the scenery on this road is so magnificent that had the gradient been four times as stiff we would have still rejoiced in the splendid views.

The limit of the upgrade is reached at Trecastle where at the ‘Black Horse’ we had some much needed refreshment before the long, and to tell the truth, rather cold descent into the picturesque town of Brecon where we found accommodation at the ‘Angel’ after a somewhat strenuous trip of some 75 miles.

TUESDAY 25TH AUGUST

A break in Monmouth

BRECON – ABERGAVENNY – RAGLAN – MONMOUTH – NEWENT

We were in no hurry to depart from the pleasant town of Brecon and spent an hour or two on the banks of the picturesque Usk before thinking of going on our way on the Abergavenny road – a lovely road with the Brecknock3 Beacons on either side. There is a long pull up to Bwlch onwards through Crickhowell is a good and easy road and Abergavenny is more prepossessing than the majority of the larger towns in this part of the world.

About a mile beyond Abergavenny we struck a very comfortable ‘Three Horseshoes’ for our midday bread and cheese, and then went on to Raglan where about 1½ hours was spent in the castle (one of our favourite castles). Just as we were leaving, curiously enough three friends – Mabel and Guy Paice and Mrs Wilton – arrived per motor, and extracted a promise from me to spend a day or two at Barry next week.⁴

At Monmouth we had an indifferent tea at the ‘Rising Sun’ over which we decided to make Newent our next stopping place, but the road we took after leaving Ross was both rough and hilly. However, we got there in good order and found at the ‘George’ as good entertainment as we had met anywhere, an extremely good supper putting a finish to a fairly easy 59 mile run.

WEDNESDAY 26TH AUGUST

A glorious run into Cirencester

NEWENT – GLOUCESTER – BROCKWORTH – CIRENCESTER – MALMESBURY – CHIPPENHAM – TROWBRIDGE – FROME

Newent had struck us two years ago as an extremely pleasant little town and this impression was confirmed on our morning survey. It is quite a large place but on a road that leads to nowhere in particular. Hence it remains unspoiled and the ‘George’ is a stopping place which will well bear revisiting.

As we had to get to the other side of the Severn it was, of course, necessary to go through Gloucester, a pleasant bye-road of some 8 miles taking us to that extensive city; and as we proposed ascending Birdlip Hill from this side, we had the 4 miles of bad tramlines to Hucclecote to negotiate first, stopping for a refresher at the ‘Crossed Hands’ Brockworth before the long steep climb.

But once at the top it is a glorious run into Cirencester, though it was broken by midday bread and cheese at the ‘Five Mile House’ on the Ermin Way. From Cirencester we took the road to Malmesbury through Crudwell. Malmesbury looks a different place in fine weather to what it did in the pouring rain when I was through there last year. The Abbey is very fine too and we spent some time exploring before going on through Corston to Chippenham badly in want of our tea, which we obtained of excellent quality at the ‘Central Café’ in that up-to-date town which was very empty (it being early-closing day).

We decided on Frome as our next stopping place, reaching it through the thriving towns of Melksham and Trowbridge, the latter giving us our evening refreshment at ‘The Ring O’ Bells’. It was latish when we arrived in Frome so we put up at the first C.T.C. place we came to – the ‘Bridge Hotel’ – which though of an unprepossessing exterior, proved both cheap and comfortable. Distance ridden: 68 miles

THURSDAY 27TH AUGUST

…a glorious evening for our walk around the city

FROME – WARMINSTER – HINDON – SALISBURY

Pigs being loaded into lorries outside our bedroom window woke us up early to a rather unpromising morning with a gentle rain falling, which looked as though it might last for 24 hours. However, this did not check our progress towards Salisbury. Before making a start we explored Frome, which must be about the hilliest town in England – there not being a level street in it. The church is a remarkable one but it was too early to penetrate into its interior and what took our fancy most was Cheap Street with a stream running in a deep stone channel down the centre of it.

Our way took us first to the picturesque town of Warminster where the ‘Fox and Hounds’ refreshed us with cider and biscuits. The rain had left off, and as we had only a short journey to do, we made up our minds to loaf on a roundabout route, but nevertheless the bye road we took to Hindon through the lovely village of Longbridge Deverill was both steep and rough. It was past 1 o’clock before we reached the picturesque and ancient town of Hindon for our midday bread and cheese at the ‘Grosvenor Arms’, a very comfortable pub.

From Hindon we made our way to Fonthill Bishop and through Fonthill Park eventually arriving at the (to me) very familiar village of Dinton, which was the station for Fovant Camp; from here we continued through Barford St. Martin (where E.B.P.’s back tyre required repairs), Fugglestone and Wilton into Salisbury where we made at once for the ‘Coach and Horses’ in Winchester Street, a stopping place which we had last year decided was one of the best. After tea it was a glorious evening for our walk around the city and we confirmed our impression of last year that Salisbury’s is the most impressive cathedral.

At supper, we were entertained by two elderly motoring ex-cyclists in general road talk and agreed perfectly with them except on the subject of rear lights!

Distance ridden: 36 miles

FRIDAY 28TH AUGUST

A steep and twisty descent

SALISBURY – FOVANT – SHAFTESBURY – WINCANTON – SOUTH PETHERTON – ILMINSTER – CHARD – YARCOMBE – HONITON

As per our tour last year, Salisbury was the parting place for E.B.P. and myself – he to proceed to Winchester on the homeward way while I proposed trying to make Honiton on another thrust into the West Country.

A fine sunny morning made us loath to leave Salisbury and after mending a punctured back tyre it was noon before we parted company. I retraced my way as far as Barford St. Martin and then took the very familiar road to Fovant where a good hour was spent at the old ‘Cross Keys’ in converse with sundry local worthies on the theme of old army days.

Consequently, by the time I had negotiated the strenuous road through Swallow Cliff and Donhead to Shaftesbury my prospects of reaching Honiton seemed somewhat remote. However, in fine weather and with a favouring wind, the road onwards from Shaftesbury is a fast one and I decided to stick to the road I knew through Gillingham, Wincanton (custard tarts and lemonade purchased) Sparkford, Ilchester and South Petherton (where a new refreshment house provided me with an excellent tea after a badly needed wash) to Ilminster. Here I thought it advisable to take the road through Chard as time was going on and walked up most of the steep main street of that not very interesting town and of course up the impossible hill leading out of it.

By the time I reached Yarcombe, dusk was already approaching and after a Bass and biscuits at the ‘Yarcombe Inn’ I was nearly persuaded by the landlord of that comfortable hostelry to put up for the night as there was a good mile and a half walk before me before the run down into Honiton. However, I resisted the temptation and by the time the mile and a half uphill walk was finished it was quite dark enough to light up – the first time I had done so since the start of the tour.

The steep and twisty descent into Honiton was a bit terrifying and I was not sorry to see the lights of the town at last putting up at ‘Scotts’ in the West High Street where the remainder of the evening was spent in company with two of Lyon’s motor engineers from Cadby Hall, along with a four valve set radio and loud speaker transmitting Daventry5 rottenly.

Distance ridden: 75 miles

SATURDAY 29TH AUGUST

Footballs and footballers

HONITON – EXETER – COPPLESTONE – SAMPFORD COURTENAY – HATHERLEIGH – HIGHAMPTON – HOLSWORTHY

I had ordered an early breakfast and was almost sorry I had done so as the morning started distinctly unpromising; the gentle drizzle, however, ceased after breakfast and I strolled for some time in the streets of the town preparing for Saturday market and got the bit of lace which I omitted to get when last I was here which I duly despatched to the proper quarter.

Even with these delays I got on my way soon after 9.30 a.m., arriving in Exeter at half past eleven. Here I spent a considerable time trying to get a fresh stock of films, only succeeding at the sixth attempt and then having a blow out of pastries and ginger ale before proceeding on my way through Newton St. Cyres to Crediton and onto Copplestone, where it being near closing time I thought it as well to stock up with bread, cheese and of course some Bass at the ‘Cross Hotel’. And of course it being the first day of the football season the hotel was full of footballs and footballers.

Being mapless I had to trust my memory to find the road turning off just past Bow on the right to North Tawton, quite a large village I had never visited before. However, I was able to obtain sailing directions to Hatherleigh through the very Devonian village of Sampford Courtenay where the weather, which up to now had been dull and gloomy, cleared. The road past Exbourne onto Hatherleigh was very familiar and roused many old memories, and Hatherleigh provided me with a real Devonshire tea at ‘Walter’s’ in Bridge Street.

I spent quite a lot of time in Hatherleigh and prepared to go in a very leisurely manner along the road, which five years ago we had to scorch over to get to the same destination. I had designed to have a Bass at the ‘Golden Sun’ Highampton but had to be content with taking a photograph of it as it was not open. However, I found a very comfortable Inn – ‘The Bickford Arms’ – further on where the local postman gave me much interesting information on such diverse subjects as the cause of the failure of the fruit crop, which he attributed to the decline in the bee-keeping industry, and the glories of fox-hunting which is the great sport of these parts so that the winter is eagerly looked forward to by all and sundry.

The unpicturesque town of Holsworthy, the scene of pleasant memories to me, was reached about 8 o’clock and I was warmly welcomed by the Misses Jollows at the ‘South Western Hotel’. After a walk around, I had a proper Holsworthy supper of cold fowl and ham followed by blackberry tart and cream in the company of some very nice people from Surbiton who had been staying in the hotel since February waiting for vacant possession of a house they had purchased at Bude. And much pleasant converse with the Jollow family before going to bed convinced that there is no other part of England like Devon after all.

Distance ridden: 58 miles

SUNDAY 30TH AUGUST

A young balloon

HOLSWORTHY – BOSCASTLE – BUDE – HOLSWORTHY

A fine bright morning caused me to decide on having a fleeting glimpse of Cornwall, and after an ample and leisurely breakfast I set off fortified with a huge parcel of sandwiches which Evelyn Jollow insisted on my taking with me, on the Bude road, not forgetting to sample the blackberries at the boundary bridge which I found as luscious as ever.

With Stratton looking very enticing in the morning sun I turned off on what used to be the very rough road pointing to Camelford, but in the five years since last I traversed it, it has been made like a track and a beautiful road it is, with frequent views of the blue Atlantic on the right and the picturesque Cornish villages on the left. I was curious to see if the quaint cottage where we had such a wonderful tea once still catered for the traveller and was gratified to find it between Poundstock and Wainhouse Corner. Though it was rather early I could not resist the temptation to fill up with milk and good Cornish cake before going over the wild country to Boscastle, stopping at the top of Penally Hill to devour the greater part of Evelyn’s sandwiches.

In Boscastle my first business was to visit the ‘Wellington Hotel’ where a bottle of Bass washed down the sandwiches, after which a couple of hours was agreeably spent in wandering around this picturesque place taking numerous photographs and basking in the sun on the cliffs. I then returned to the aforesaid cottage to tea which consisted of so many different items that I felt like a young balloon when I had finished, for it was impossible to refuse to sample any of them.

I had hoped to get back to Bude in time to get some photographs but was foiled by the sea mist that arose suddenly. Bude was full of people and I walked out on the sands before returning through Stratton to Holsworthy for supper and more talk of the doings of the day. And so to bed wishing I had more time to spend a week in this delightful district with these pleasant people.

Distance ridden: 49 miles

MONDAY 31ST AUGUST

Ready for the regatta

HOLSWORTHY – MONKLEIGH – BIDEFORD – APPLEDORE – INSTOW – BARNSTAPLE – ILFRACOMBE

The sea mist, which had risen overnight, still persisted in the form of a light drizzle. I was entertained while getting up watching the evolutions of three flocks of sheep which had got mixed up and were finally sorted out in an amazing way by their respective sheepdogs urged on by the shepherds by signs and inextricable sounds.

After breakfast I was very loath to make a start but I eventually bade them all farewell promising to come again if possible next year and bring E.B.P. I departed, the sun having driven the sea mist away, taking the Bideford Road.

Having only a short stage to do there was no need for hurry and stops were made frequently to partake of the blackberries, which are such a feature of this part of the country. Frithelstock, a previously pretty village, is rather spoilt by a new large motor garage with its attendant hideous petrol advertisements, but Monkleigh is as of yore and having passed the ‘Bell’ before I did not do so on this occasion, cider and biscuits being my fare.

Of course the River Torridge, beside which the road now ran, was at low tide and as usual exhibiting much mud and seagulls. Bideford, however, was looking very attractive in the sunshine – the farther end of the quay being littered with accessories ready for the regatta which was due to take place in a few days.

I did not spend much time in Bideford as I wished to visit quaint old Appledore which I reached through Northam. Just outside Appledore I was ‘attacked’ by a boatman who wanted to ferry me across to Instow; the suggestion struck me as a good one but I explained that I wanted to spend an hour in Appledore first and he cheerfully agreed to wait. Unfortunately the sea mist had arrived again but nevertheless I exposed several films on this picturesque old place and fared sumptuously on cold pork sandwiches and Bass at the ‘Champion of Wales’ in company with a curious collection of natives who, in spite of their piratical appearance, were most courteous and told many curious yarns for the benefit of the stranger in their midst.

After this interlude I found my boatman and had a pleasant journey across to Instow, the fare being just 1/-6 for self and machine. Instow is a pleasant, but not extremely lively little pleasure resort and the road from there to Barnstaple is a good and level one. Barnstaple strikes one as a very fine town but I did not stay long there as the sea mist had turned to a gentle drizzle and after taking the opportunity of getting a local dairy to take some post orders for cream, I set off on the Ilfracombe road which, for a considerable distance, is dead level.

At Bittadon, a largish village, I obtained a very satisfying tea; the remainder of the road to Ilfracombe (until the top of Woollacot Hill is reached) is of a strenuous nature and the run down into the town rather steeper than is pleasant especially as there is plenty of heavy traffic in the way of charabancs and buses. I put up at the first C.T. C. place I came to – ‘Delves’ in the High Street – which was as good a billet as one could expect to get in a place like Ilfracombe and, after a stroll round in the growing dusk and supper, went to bed.

Distance ridden: 43 miles

TUESDAY 1ST SEPTEMBER

An ancient mariner

ILFRACOMBE – BARRY

Got up to a most dismal prospect, the town being enveloped in a misty rain, which I was assured would last all day. I had also ascertained last night that the only steamer across to Barry did not leave until 5.30 in the evening, and so it looked as though I was not going to have a very lively day. However, after a hearty breakfast I set out on an exploration tramp and am bound to say that even in fine weather I could not imagine caring to make a lengthy stay here. The only thing that struck me as useful was the Winter Garden where I spent most of the morning writing letters and mended my back tyre, which had been requiring attention for some days.

After dinner I could not stick it indoors, so paid my bill and thought I would try and beat the rain to Mortehoe. However, by the time I had got to the top of the hill the rain was so solid that I returned to the comparative shelter of the town. Here I loafed around the harbour spending an hour over tea consisting mostly of apricots and cream at a refreshment house on the Quay until it was time to go on the boat the ‘Lady Moyra’. Not finding any shelter on deck, I used my Paget to cover my machine but having no relish for below-deck, finally left the machine to look after itself and donned the Paget myself. Long before we left the pier, sundry of passengers were looking a bit green, and one mother with a baby and two small children was glad to turn over the two latter to me to look after. I think I gave them quite a good time and neither of them showed the least inclination to be ill, though their mother was sure they would be, having never been on the sea before.

As it was much too rough to call at Minehead and Lynton on the way, the journey only took about 2½ hours and I was quite sorry when the Welsh coast came in sight wonderfully bathed in sunshine. It was here that the rain stopped so that I was able to turn myself from an ancient mariner into a cyclist once more. Having turned over my two charges to their mother (both in first class health and spirits) I disembarked at Barry pier and eventually found my way up to Barry where much talk, after not having seen one another (except that brief encounter at Raglan) for nearly a year, kept us up until nearly midnight. This was the shortest day’s riding being a mere 11 miles.

WEDNESDAY 2ND SEPTEMBER

Mushrooming!

BARRY – ABERTHAW – LLANTWIT MAJOR – ST. DONAT’S CASTLE – MARCROSS – BRIDGEND – WICK – BARRY

A different prospect from my yesterday morning’s awaking – a brilliant day and after breakfast I made up my mind to visit the very interesting village of Llantwit Major. Again I took the usual road through Aberthaw, where I posed with shepherd and dog for a photographs, then made for St. Athan and Boverton where the castle is now enclosed so could not get a photograph of it. Half an hour in Llantwit sufficed and after a perilous climb to get a photograph of the church, I took the coast road to St. Donat’s Castle – quite a wonderful old residence said to be the oldest inhabited house in the British Isles with moat and drawbridge surrounded by thick woods.

After there I went on to Marcross where the ‘Horseshoe’ supplied me with bread, cheese and Bass and then on through St. Brides Major to Bridgend, the road between these two places being a beautiful one. Bridgend is always associated on one’s mind with coal and is quite a nice little country town. Here I turned back, making a descent into Southerndown, a bijou seaside resort consisting for the most part of a sandy bay with Lord Dunraven’s Castle perched on the cliff overlooking it.

The return to Barry was made by a slightly different route via Wick. After tea, Guy and I spent the evening mushrooming and we collected enough for breakfast, though the evening was rather a chilly one.

Distance ridden: 43 miles

THURSDAY 3RD SEPTEMBER

BARRY – CAERPHILLY CASTLE – CARDIFF – NEWPORT – CHEPSTOW

Another fine morning. I prepared to take leave of my kind friends and turn my nose towards home but I was determined to make a detour first to visit Caerphilly Castle, having first to make for Cardiff via Wenvoe and the mean streets of Canton. I was wiser than on my last visit in going by the left hand road at Whitchurch via Taff’s Well and the ugly mining village of Nantgarw though this means about a mile walk uphill before the run down into Caerphilly. I was unlucky at the Castle as far as photography was concerned as the light was very poor and it finally started to rain heavily before I took my departure, this time going straight up the hill which is, of course, quite unrideable. I stopped at the ‘Traveller’s Rest’ at the top for much needed bread, cheese and beer.

It is a rundown all the way into Cardiff by this road and I did not linger long in that handsome city but continued straight on by the excellent road via Rumney, St. Mellons and Castleton to Newport – the state of the tramlines in that town making it necessary to walk the greater part of it. From here to Chepstow is a lovely road and at about five miles on the way the ‘New Inn’ supplied me with a very excellent tea (the route was via Llanbeder, Llanvaches, Caerwent and Crick).

A beefy local on a dreadnought took me on over the last seven or eight miles and I did not shake him off until the steep rise just outside Chepstow which otherwise I would rather have walked; he hung onto me about half way up and then started pushing his machine but I was able to put on enough steam to leave him.

At Chepstow I put up at ‘Skrymes Café’, a very comfortable quarters and spent the evening mostly by the river, which was swirling around the castle at high tide, making a splendid picture. I finished up in very pleasant company at the ‘Bridge Inn’ with Bass and biscuits before supper and bed, hoping for a fine morning so that I could get some photographs of the castle.

Distance ridden: 57 miles

FRIDAY 4TH SEPTEMBER

A favourable day for photography

CHEPSTOW – TINTERN ABBEY – LLANDOGO – WHITCHURCH – ROSS-ON-WYE – GLOUCESTER – CHELTENHAM – PUESDOWN – NORTHLEACH – BURFORD

A stormy sky and frequent showers did not make my prospects very hopeful but after an early (8 o’clock) breakfast (the best breakfast I had met outside the ‘Swan’, starting with porridge) things improved and the sun made momentary efforts to break through. I took full advantage with the river once again at high tide and by the time I had done the interior of the castle it was noon. I had a longish stage before me, as I wanted to take the magnificent Wyndcliff road instead of the easier one via Lydney. More time was spent in obtaining photographs of Tintern Abbey – rather a difficult subject, necessitating climbing onto the top of a narrow wall with a 40-foot drop in front.

The ‘Sloop Inn’ at Llandogo supplied me with midday refreshment and the familiar road via Redbrook, Monmouth and Whitchurch (refreshments at ‘The Crown’) to Ross was negotiated without incident and at good speed. This was the third visit to Ross on the present tour and at last I was able to get Wilton Bridge in a favourable light for photography. Ross to Gloucester is also a familiar road and outside the City I obtained a very good tea at a wayside cottage and also shelter from a passing storm.

Gloucester was all beflagged in honour of the Three Choirs Festival but I had no time to linger and went straight through and onto Cheltenham, then the heavy pull up through Charlton Kings and Andoversford to the top of Puesdown. I was very glad of some refreshment at the ‘Puesdown Inn’ before the run down to Northleach. It was getting late and a very nipping wind made me unpack my luggage and get out my waistcoat outside Northleach after which very short work was made of the nine miles to the ‘Swan’ in Burford. Here an excellent supper in good company sent me to bed as happy as could be expected having regard to the fact that my holiday was coming to an end.

Distance ridden: 73 miles

SATURDAY 5TH SEPTEMBER

A goodly company

BURFORD – STOW-ON-THE-WOLD – BROADWAY – EVESHAM – BURFORD

A fine morning made me resolve to make northward with a view to ‘picturising’ Broadway and Chipping Campden. Hence I took the Stow road and from Stow to Broadway stopping only at the ‘Coach and Horses’ at Stow for refreshments. By that time rain had come on the scene and it looked like continuing for the rest of the day, so I put up temporarily at the ‘Swan’ Broadway and had a very excellent lunch of cold fowl and ham followed by apple tart and cream.

The rain showed no sign of abatement so I decided to push on to Evesham, spending about half an hour in that pleasant town, pleasant even in the rain. I then took the road through Bretforton and the pretty village of Weston-sub-Edge to Aston-sub-Edge being anxious to see what the ‘Cottage’ beloved of ‘Wayfarer’7 was like; I must say that it seems a most comfortable crib and gave me a very good tea. Just as I was leaving a young man named Cash of Birmingham came up and on my telling him I was going back to Burford asked me to tell Miss Lomas he was on his way there in the hope of being put up.

The road onwards to Chipping Campden is only a short (but very steep) one and I was unable to take in all the beauties of that lovely village owing to the rain which still continued and the road on to Stow is a very stiff one. However, I got back to Burford by 8 o’clock in advance of Cash and secured him his quarters. A goodly company had gathered at the ‘Swan’ including C.A. Sewell, the North Road⁸ man I had met on Whit Saturday and a very nice old chap named Vickers from Birmingham with whom I had a long stroll after a very heavy supper along the Lechlade road before turning in.

Distance ridden: 60 miles

SUNDAY 6TH SEPTEMBER

The final leg

BURFORD – DORCHESTER – MAIDENHEAD – TWICKENHAM

As usual I meant to make an early start for any last day’s run home and also as usual found myself very reluctant to leave Burford, so it was 12 o’clock before I started on the last stage by strolling up the High Street with Vickers who was going to Cirencester. Nevertheless, I put on so much steam that the ‘Fleur de Lis’ at Dorchester was reached by 1.30 p.m. and I was able to spend an hour over lunch at that comfortable hostelry. After some refreshments in Maidenhead I reached home in good order at 6 o’clock in time for tea, finding all in order and starting developing the photographs straight away after the 75 miles run which made the total of the three weeks’ tour exactly 1200 miles.

1925 ANNUAL REVIEW

A very successful year’s cycling which produced a record mileage. This was mainly due to the early part of the summer being so fine as to give opportunities for a long ride every Sunday and good evening runs during the week.

The century was exceeded on three occasions, two of them on Saturday holidays, (the Saturday before Whitsun and August Bank Holiday) and a weekend at Burford in July was also obtained.

The annual holiday was taken rather later than usual in the same general direction as in 1923 and 1924. The weather though by no means perfect was better than we had experienced in the two preceding years. A welcome revisitation was made to North Devon with just a snatched dive into Cornwall, a trip across the Bristol Channel taking me for a short visit to Barry.

A new feature was the combination of photography with cycling and many good pictures were obtained, no less than 130 exposures being made on the holiday trip.

Both ‘James’ and ‘Chater-Lea’ machines gave admirable service and except for tyres gave no trouble. Consequently, they will both be retained for the next year.

CYCLING STATISTICS FOR 1925 BY MILES AND NUMBER OF RIDES PER MONTH

5 of the Sunday rides having been done on tour have been deducted from the touring figures. Consequently the actual touring figures are: 25 rides, 1351 miles, Average miles per ride: 54.04

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1 Formal word for a meal.

2 a wooden clog or sandal on a raised wooden platform or metal ring

3 Another name for the Brecon Beacons

4 According to the 1939 census Guy and Mabel Paice lived at No.12 Cambridge Street, Barry, Glamorganshire. Guy was born in Kensington on 5th November 1888 and in 1939 was a railway clerk in charge of wages. Mabel Paice nee Rivers was born on 3rd January 1893. They married on 4th June 1917. Guy served in the RAF during WWI as a clerk.

5 Daventry 5XX was a BBC radio station that opened on 27th July 1925

6 1 shilling

7 The pen name of the famous cycling journalist WM Robinson (1877–1956)

8 North Road is a cycling club, founded in 1885 in Hertfordshire