Argh, forgot to take a photo of the camp site this morning :(
It rained in the morning so the tent was wet when I packed it up. The tyre had gone down so I pumped it up, and thought "I'll wait until I get a new tyre in Chester before fixing it."
I ate the usual breakfast and was on my way. Since I've been following the National Cycle Network routes, I've never really felt endangered on the bike due to traffic, but I'm getting sick of these cycle routes sometimes because, in their attempt to avoid the main roads, they often end up following smaller, hillier and windier roads, which are less direct. This means that I have to use brakes a lot when descending (which is such a waste of all the gravitational potential energy I build up), and it also means the distances are further. So I'm starting to make my own routes up, using a combination of the cycle network and the Bike Hub app routes.
I wasn't feeling motivated today either, it was still showering and wet, and the tyre started going down so quickly that I could only ride for about ten minutes after pumping it up before it was flat again. So I reluctantly stopped to fix it, pausing my repairs at one point during a remarkably heavy shower.
I stopped for lunch in a town called Flint.
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| Standing near Flint Castle overlooking the estuary of the River Dee |
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| Standing near Flint Castle overlooking the estuary of the River Dee |
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| Flint Castle. |
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| Crossing the River Dee heading towards Chester. |
Chester is an ancient Roman town I heard. It has an impressive cathedral and other architecture, canals and a big city wall.
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| The Old Dee Bridge in Chester. |
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| The Chester Town Hall. |
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| Chester Cathredal |
I headed over in that direction and sussed the place out. There I met a few homeless guys drinking beer. One of them had just left, so one of them was left with me. I started chatting to this bloke, he reckoned I'd get away with camping there for just one night, but I seemed to gain his trust and he told me where he was camped, down by the river. He took a long time to explain where abouts he was, with the help of Google Maps on my iPhone. He was actually quite amazed with what the iPhone could do, reckoned he wanted to get one and kept asking me how much they cost. I was reluctant to tell him that mine was worth $1000 because I didn't want it to get stolen.
Anyway, he told me where he was camped, told me he'd been there for a few weeks and nobody else knew he was there except for a fisherman who walked past every day to get to his boat, and he didn't mind. So he insisted I didn't tell anyone about it. I told him I'd go and find something to eat and set up beside his tent later on.
I had a look around the town, found a bike shop to look for the tyre I wanted, but they didn't have any. Then I went down and found his tent in amongst the trees by the river, just on nightfall. I set up the tent next to his; the ground was pretty boggy and silty. Then I went in to find something to eat.
I'd been craving pizza for a while, so I looked around for that, it's actually much cheaper in Australia I think. I found a place though, a trendy sort of a bar, selling a pizza and pint for £5, so I bought that, and ate on my own, blogging on my iPhone.
I was still hungry though, so I bought some pasta and pasta sauce, went down to the river and cooked that up.
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| Cooking pasta by the River Dee in Chester. |
I got back to my tent at about midnight, the homeless man was there and he was just about to go to sleep. He thought I was already in the tent asleep.
I got a good education on the life of this homeless man. I didn't even get his name though, I did ask but he didn't answer, and made a comment about something else instead. I did find out that the other homeless blokes name was Nathan, and my homeless friend here had met him just a few days ago. He'd been hanging out with Nathan all day, they'd been busking on the streets. Nathan was using this homeless guys drum, and my homeless friend kept saying "'e's doing my 'ead in...acting like it's 'is drum, he made 30 quid off it today, he didn't give me anything for using it...I don't know if I can trust him anymore...I think I'll move me tent further down so he doesn't know where I am...lots of people seem to know 'im though, 'e seems well respected, so 'e can't be that bad."
My homeless friend told me quite a few stories, he was doing most of the talking, and I was happy to listen because I was learning about his life, quite interesting.
I'd mentioned my bike had dynamo lights, and he told me a story about that (read this with a slow British accent):
"I used to 'ave a dynamo ya know? I was ridin' me bike one time, and I'd stopped at a red light, so I was obeying the law and all tha', and guess who pulls up beside me? A police car. And 'e winds down the window and says "mate, where are your lights? You're breaking the law ridin' with no lights" and I said "it's a fucken dynamo mate, it only works when I'm riding", and he reckoned it was illegal, and he pulls me over, and asks for me name, and because I thought 'e was takin' the mickey ou' of me with the dynamo, I thought I'd take the mickey back, so I said me name was "Mickey Mouse", and 'e said "righto, where do you live then?", and I said "Walt Disney". And 'e said "right, you're under arrest". And 'e took me back to the police station, and then I 'ad to get me Dad to come down and prove me real name and get me out"
I found out he used to be a fork lift driver, he lived in Holyhead for 6 years and reckoned it was a dump, he was 38 years old, he'd quit drinking and smoking when he was about 30 and just after had had a stroke which almost killed him. He reckoned it was too much of a shock to the system, giving them both up at the same time, so he went back to smoking and drinking again. He reckons he has a blood clot in his lung. He has a "girl in Wales". She sold his engagement ring, then afterwards wanted to marry him, but he reckoned he wasn't going to get her another engagement ring, she'd have to get her own. He said her son beats her up, reckons it's because "he's worried she's going to stay with me and then he won't get any money from her, so he won't have any beer money. That's all he cares about, his beer money."
He was going to go to see his girl in four days, and hoped to stay with her a while, maybe indefinitely.
He had another story about bikes, he said he used to have a grizzly, which he explained is like a Cannondale mountain bike, but about a thousand pounds cheaper, still really light weight though. He said it got robbed from his house. Then one day sometime afterwards, he reckoned he knocked on the wrong door when he was going to see his mate, and he saw his bike in the hall there, but they'd stripped the paint off, and redone it, so that you couldn't recognise it. They swore it wasn't his, but he knew it was because he'd hit a dint in the frame with the round end of a hammer, so that he could identify it. He told them this and said to them "do you want me to call the cops?", and they said "okay, it's yours".
So he got his bike back, but later on it was stolen again from his flat, a break and enter, he reckoned he'd told too many people about how much it was worth.
He told me he has fits every now and again, but he's only been having them for the last year or so. After one of them he was hospitalised, and he checked himself out of the hospital before the nurses wanted him to go, and he couldn't remember the address of his house. He'd clean forgotten! He rang the police and said "I can't remember my address". They replied "have you been drinking?". They breathalysed him and he was "stone cold sober". But the police couldn't find his house either. He walked around for four days looking for it, got barely any sleep, had blisters on his feet, still couldn't find it, so he gave up and bought a tent. This had just happened a few weeks earlier, but he reckoned he's spoken to someone today that said they might be able to show him where his house was.
One of his fits caused him to fall in the canal, and he almost drowned. The police thought it was because he was too drunk, so they banned all the alcohol sellers from selling him alcohol. He reckoned he could only buy grog from two places now.
He'd been complaining of sore ribs, because the police had thrown him down the steps a few days ago, saying that he was drunk and disorderly. "I wasn't drunk and disorderly...well I might have been drunk, but I wasn't disorderly, I was just mindin' me own business. Disorderly is when you're causing trouble and shit right? And I wasn't causin' any trouble"
He reckoned I wouldn't make it back to Australia, that I'd fall in love with a girl somewhere along the way and have kids and stay there forever.
He charges his phone at the O2 place where he got it. Said that if you walk in and say your battery's flat, they'll charge it for you.
He said to steer clear of Glasgow, or if I go there, don't stay more than one night, and look like I fit in, not like a tourist with lots of money."
He'd told me "I want to get one of those light-weight aluminium stoves, the ones you use metho with...[Trangia]. It's just nice to have a cup of tea in the morning, rather than just a beer, you know?"
He was a good bloke; I'm disappointed I didn't get his name or a photo of him. I trusted him, I was a little bit worried that Nathan might come down during the night and cause trouble, but I didn't see him again.
Ride stats
Distance: 73 km
Average: 15.6 km/h
Maximum: 54.9 km/h
Time: 4:39:24
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