Monday 13 June - Manchester to Preston

Our sleeping accommodation last night was in a converted garage, all very sumptuous and modern, right down to the digital keypad on the outside door, so no need for a key.  We have breakfast in our host's conservatory - fruit, cereals, scrambled eggs on toast, croissants, fruit juice, tea.... it will be a while before we are hungry today.  A good breakfast really keeps us going.  Reg says that when he's cycled abroad, he'd be hungry again by 11 am after a continental breakfast.

As we prepare to leave, our host and her husband come to see us off.  He's a keen cyclist himself, riding about 55 miles before lunch on a Sunday.  He has an ultra lite bike, apparently.

"Fair play to you, touring on those bikes,"  he muses. Should we feel offended or proud?  Our bikes are heavy, I guess, but this also makes them stable for carrying the weight of our panniers.

"Has the journey so far made you feel tired, or fitter?"  asks Mr Keen Cyclist.

"Mmm ...  fitter, I think," I reply, and Reg agrees.  Who am I kidding? My knees ache, my shoulders are stiff, and I've spent so much time on a bike I've forgotten how to walk.

There's a Tesco express just down the road, so we stock up with sandwiches and a couple of Mars bars - we already have a couple of apples which our host gave us at breakfast.  Every day we fill our flasks with boiling water so that we can have a cuppa with our lunch.

There was drizzle in the air when we left the B&B, but this has now turned into heavy rain, so outside Tesco's we don all our wet gear - jackets, waterproof trousers and waterproof overshoes. For me, this is not a simple operation, especially the putting on of the waterproof trousers, which
 must be quite a comedy show for onlookers.

Finally, we're off!  We're soon on a really good cycle track with a river on one side. One difficulty is that every so often we have to manoeuvre our bikes through really awkward gates; presumably to prevent motorcyclists from using the paths.  Getting through these gates is a really tricky operation, especially as we are loaded with panniers.

We come across a tree blocking the path.  We meet a dog walker who says that this must have happened in the last couple of days as she regularly uses the path. There are trees and foliage on either side of the path, but with great difficulty, and thanks to the few people who have obviously been before us and carved out an emergency bypass, we manage to get around the tree and carry on.

We are able to go straight from the cycle track onto the canal path, and enjoy riding for a few miles on a really good surface in pleasant surroundings.  We have been delayed this morning by various things this morning - putting on our wet gear, cycle gates, a fallen tree - so I know Reg won't want to stop for coffee just yet - we need to get 10 miles under our belt first.  It's still raining really heavily and we're grateful for our extra lightweight Gortex jackets which have been thoroughly tested this morning and which have kept us dry.

Eventually I think it's safe to tentatively mention coffee, especially as I spot a pub.  We have to take our bikes down some steps to reach the pub (we find out afterwards that there's another way back to the canal path).

I'm not quite sure what the pub staff think when 2 dripping cyclists enter their nicely furnished, carpeted environment, but I'm sure we aren't the first cyclists to come in soaking wet,  It's lovely to  be in the dry for a while, and enjoy a cappuccino and green tea.

We continue cycling for some time on the canal path, until this finishes.  We're back on the roads for a while until we join a cycle track once again. This track is really tricky to  cycle on, with a very uneven, stone-and-mud  surface.  It's slow going, but we persevere for several miles until at Atherton the track eventually just disappears completely.  Reg has to readjust our route along A and B roads, which means we can ride faster, but it's not so pleasant having lorries and cars whizz past us at breakneck speeds.

The good news is that the rain has stopped, and we're now looking out for a bench so that we can have our lunch.  We spot one on a piece of green by the side of the road at Hinkley.  It's lovely to have a break!

We cycle on and pass a church which announces that it is "Aston Independent Methodist Church".   Reg looks it up later on the Internet and we find that the Independent Methodist Church movement seems to be something peculiar to the Wigan area.

As we have had such a difficult experience journeying on cycle tracks this morning, Reg has altered the rest of the route to Preston, so that this afternoon we are cycling entirely on B roads and A roads. Mrs Sat Nav has stopped talking to us anyway; she has been brilliant the whole trip, but today she has decided to play up.

The new route means that every so often Reg has to stop to check that we are going the right way.  Also, things are more difficult because I ride in front of Reg and rely on Mrs Sat Nav saying,

"In a quarter of a mile, turn right."  Then, when we get to the turning,  "Turn right!"

I am in the left hand lane, approaching a roundabout, in heavy traffic, with cars behind me and in front of me, and a bus next to me in the right hand lane.

"I can't get into the right hand lane!"  I shout, exasperated. I stop in the left hand lane which makes Reg nearly fall off his bike, to avoid crashing into me.  He shouts that I should say "stopping"if I'm going to stop. I shout that he should let me know in which direction we are going so that I can get into the right lane.

The traffic lights at the roundabout change and I am forced to carry on in the left hand lane. Reg is already in the right hand lane and goes around the roundabout. I have to make my way, walking my bike, from the left hand exit to the right hand exit road, where Reg is waiting for me. To be fair it is sometimes really difficult for Reg to know which lane we should be in until the last minute, but I'm cross and we're both frustrated, since we're going a different route.

“You need to tell me when you're stopping! I nearly came off my bike!”

“You knew I was stopping because I couldn't change lanes with that bus in the way!”

“You could've gone in front of the bus!”

“No, I couldn't! You have to keep far enough behind me so that you can stop in an emergency!”

We ride on in stony silence for a while. Soon Reg has to stop again to check the way. We look at each other and smile, and Reg gives me a kiss. I acknowledge that it is very difficult for Reg, as the person responsible for making sure we get there. We ride much faster on the road, as compared to canal paths and cycle tracks, but heavy traffic, especially when the road is narrow, does make it difficult. On balance though we'd rather ride on a busy road than an impossible and dangerous cycle track.

Finally we arrive at our destination, a small hotel rather than a B&B tonight. I wait outside with the bikes while Reg goes to check in. After what seems an eternity he comes back out.

“They can't find our booking, Have you got the paperwork? Don't worry, they do have rooms anyway.”

Eventually they find an email from Booking.com confirming our booking. I'm not impressed, although we all make mistakes. The male receptionist is a bit dour, so different from some of the lovely helpful staff we have encountered. Reg says,

“In the Premier Inn and Quality Inn we were allowed to keep our bikes in our room, Would that be ok?”

I do understand the receptionist's hesitation. Our bikes are muddy and we look as if we've been pulled through a hedge backwards.

“Alright.”

“And please could we have a ground floor room?”

Finally we are in our room and I switch on the kettle. The advantage of a hotel, rather than a B&B, is that there is normally some sort of food available, so we don't have to go out again – especially when there are no eating places nearby.