Whilst in Toulouse, I added to my sock collection with a rather striking pair of calf-length, German hiking socks. I may not be allowed into all restaurants wearing them but I think they look rather snazzy with the Rapha 3/4 trousers. I had a late start yesterday (Tuesday) because I decided to try the nearest bike shop for a fix for my squeaky crank. I arrived at 9, only to find that the didn’t open until 10. Impatient, I decided to live with the problem and headed out of town. However, having missed breakfast, I stopped at a patisserie for a bun. Another bloke, buying his sandwiches, opened a conversation by commenting on the socks. I’m not entirely sure what he said, but it was friendly enough. I explained the small problem with the bike and he enthusiastically recommended a bike shop to sort it out – Velo Station. I rolled up, had a new cotter pin fitted in a few minutes and set out without the squeak – for 5 more minutes. It is the axle that’s worn, not the pin, but I think it will hold out.

It took the owner of Velo Station in Toulouse  just a few minutes to replace my cotter pin. Unfortunately, it turned out that it was the axle that was worn, not the pin. Nevertheless, great service, with a smile.

The day was spent traveling about 90 miles along the Canal du Midi. It’s about 5 times the width of our canals and the typical boat is a big white-and-blue cabin cruiser. I saw a lot of them in the moorings near towns but during the whole day saw just 3 boats moving along the canal. At this time of year, it is staggeringly quiet. A handful of other cyclists, a similar number of anglers, and a few dog walkers – that was it. I cycled for miles without seeing another soul – often with vast apple orchards adjacent to the canal. The was some very light rain, but nothing of significance. I’d had no particular destination in mind when I set out – the original target had been Agen, but I knew I would go further. At 7:30pm I found the town of Aiguillon. I walked into the only hotel in town, La Terrasse de L’Etoile, and booked a demi-pension: dinner, B&B. A 3-course dinner with wine and coffee, a very nice room, plus free WiFi and breakfast, set me back £50.

​

La Terrasse de L’Etoile in Aiguillon: superb value and very close to the Canal du Midi.

This morning, there was another 30 miles alongside the canal to La Reole, where I stopped for coffee to warm up – I don’t think that the temperature had risen above 7 degrees. The ‘Springwatch’ total for the canal was loads of coypu (which I’d originally thought were beavers – and are known as “little beavers” in some places), two cuckoos, quite a few herons, two green woodpeckers, one cormorant and a host of unidentifiable little brown birds.

North of La Reole are rolling hills and we’re back in wine country. I stopped in Sauverttere-de-Guyenne for a snack lunch and to make a few adjustments to the bike. I ‘d been suffering from some pain in both knees since yesterday morning and, whilst I am generally against drugs in sport, I succumbed to Ibuprofen to ease the pain. If this means a ten year disqualification from professional cycling, so be it. I’ve never done any anyway. On the way out of town I was flagged down by an enthusiastic Frenchman who explained that he owned owned a vintage Humber British bike with a 1926 Sturmey Archer hub on it. He also explained that Sturmey Archer enabled the first multi-geared bikes by introducing their original hub in 1904. Sometimes you find knowledge in the most unexpected places.

I continued cycling north, north-west. The wind was 5 to 10 mph north, north east. Not head-on but near enough to make things a bit challenging.

I tried to divert around Libourne by going through St Emillion then via the Pomerol vine plantations. However, I got lost, losing the best part of an hour in Libourne before getting back on route towards Montendre. Nice town. No hotels. Struggled another 12 miles north to Jonzach. Found a room immediately and ate very well here in the hotel. An English couple in the restaurant told me it’s due to be cold and wet for the next couple of days but 5 days into the trip, I’ve covered over 500 miles, including 110 today, so at least I’m ahead of plan.​

A Mexican couple kindly took this photograph of myself and the ‘velo’ on the edge of Saint Emilion. It’s one very smart town with cobbled roads and is and surrounded by smart chateaux, including those that produce Pomerol.

I’m not sure which is harder to use, a French keyboard or the one on this iPhone. I’m beginning to wish I’d brought an iPad for the blog. Excuse any typos, I’ll sort them out later.

Anyway, two days on and I’m now in the centre of Toulouse, showered, refreshed and enjoying dinner in an Italian restaurant next to my hotel. The Novotel Centre Wilson in Toulouse opened 8 weeks ago and has a very nice carpet (ideal for cleaning the canal path dust off bicycle tyres) and an impressive new marble floor. I attracted a few strange looks as I wheeled my “velo” inside and propped it against the reception desk. Suprisingly, they not only let me have a room but gave me a free upgrade to an executive one – by far the best I’ve stayed in so far.

Yesterday morning I headed north from St Cyprien hugging the coast whenever possible and dodging the trucks on the busier roads when there was no other viable route. The resorts north of St Cyprien were much smarter, St Cyprien itself resembling a run down version of Weymouth. Beyond these were some idyllic French villages – real holiday brochure stuff and very quaint. At one point I was amazed to see flocks of flamingoes on both sides of me as I rode across a causeway just south of Bages. In my ignorance, I’d always assumed that they were tropical birds. There were skylarks everywhere too.

As I turned west towards Carcassonne the ride was very different. The main road was a traffic nightmare so I made strenuous efforts to avoid it, taking minor roads, some of them pretty roughly surfaced, through vineyards. I did Fitou and Corbieres yesterday, and perhaps some others that were not labelled!

I arrived in Carcassonne having travelled another 90 miles. I spotted an Ibis hotel on the way in and checked in without a problem to one of the smallest rooms imaginable – the receptionist apologised in advance. Arriving back after dinner, I met the “Ryanair refugees” as they had dubbed themselves – a bunch of Irish guys with no good way home today because French air traffic controllers were enjoying one of their hobbies again, going in strike.

The problem with the bike’s right hand crank was getting worse. The securing nuts on the cotter pin were at least holding good, but the chain ring continued to wobble and squeak. I had no idea how long this could go on before something significant happened.

This morning, after only a minor unintended diversion, I found the path alongside the Canal du Midi.

The start of my ride along the Canal du Midi in Carcassonne

This would take me to today’s destination, Toulouse, just over 60 miles away. A relatively short run. The whole day’s riding was amazing – I saw no more than another ten cyclists until I reached the outskirts of Toulouse. I did see a nuthatch and a couple of beavers – the beavers being another first ever sighting for me. (They turned out to be coypu – seek later post.)

The only thing marring the day, apart from some drizzly rain for an hour, was the bike’s technical problem mentioned earlier. I considered taking it to a bike shop in Toulouse but the truth was that it’s the 61-year old axle that’s the problem, and no bike shop was going to have one of those in stock. I concluded that my best bet was to fill the space between the cotter pin and the crank with the hardest version of Araldite, or it’s French equivalent. After checking into the Novotel at 4pm I scoured the town centre for the aforementioned adhesive but came unstuck. I’ll have to try again tomorrow, when it’s due to rain.

I set out at 7:30am on Sunday morning and then had a very frustrating hour and a quarter trying to find my way out of Barcelona. All the carefully typed directions that made perfect sense on Saturday night looked like complete gibberish by Sunday and the Barcelona authorities seem to design road signs to confuse any potential enemy, rather than to provide useful information for the traveller.

After finding my way out of the city there were long, steady climbs to Sant Celoni and some more challenging ones In the hills just south of Girona. But it was not as challenging for me as for the young guy cycling up the the opposite side of the road with a rucksack on his back, a set of window blinds in one hand and a ladder balanced across his handlebars in the other!

The N2 road from Girona northwards was very busy with cars and trucks but has a wide shoulder in most places. Scenery ranged from spectacular wooded gorges to industrial grot and at one point I accidentally ended up on the A2 – where cyclists are not allowed, so had to walk back 800 yards or so along the drainage trench. However, feeling good, I decided to press on into France. I crossed the French border at 6pm, calling Sally while I was at the highest point in the climb over the Pyrenees in the busy town of El Perthus,

After a 5 mile descent, I turned right and headed for the coast, finding a room at the Hotel du Port in St Cyprien at about 7:45. I had covered 140 miles at an average speed of 12 mph and was ready for a bath and dinner.

L’Aquarium restaurant provided the latter – fish soup, turbot and creme caramel, washed down with a glass of rose and a dessert wine. I slept well!

The weather had been good all day, the temperature reaching about 25 C. The only problem with the bike was having to stop a couple it times to tighten a cotter pin on the right hand pedal crank. Somewhere along the way I need to find a fix for that. The search for a tube of blue Locktite starts today, but in not likely to find it cycling along the coast to Narbonne. Maybe when I turn left towards Carcassonne….

Six days to go. My excitement is only matched by the feeling of being unprepared, despite nearly a year of preparation.

There have been a few minor concessions to modernity as I’ve prepared the bike  for the trip – all 800 to 900 miles of it, depending how much I get lost. Here’s the technical stuff.

When I bought the Thanet Silverlight it had a single, fixed gear, as originally manufactured. The maker, Les Cassell, used to recommend that the bike was supplied with a single fixed sprocket, like mine, or a 4-speed Sturmey Archer hub. Over the last year, I’ve had a couple of wheels built up with Sturmey Archer hubs, one with an FC close ration hub and the other a wide-ratio FW type. By putting a larger sprocket (22-tooth) onto the 1949 FW, to complement the original Williams 48-tooth chain ring, I’ve managed to have the gearing lowered to match the capabilities of 60-year old knees. At about 20 mph the cranks are spinning freely but, apart from when coasting downhills, I don’t want to ride any faster than that. Having lower gears for the big climbs is more important on this trip. I don’t need to get anywhere fast, but I do need to get back.

Ben Abbots checks out a 1949 Sturmey Archer hub for the Thanet in John’s Bikes, Bath – not a trace of carbon fibre in sight!

I’ve changed the stem for a longer one (a Nitto) because the original was too short and the weight distribution on the bike meant it had a tendency to shimmy. (If you’ve never experienced shimmy, take a look at this. It’s always frightening, and can be fatal!) The longer stem improved the situation and adding a small handlebar bag, plus a small Carradice bag fixed to the seat post, seems to have made the bike much more stable.

The only other modifications were to replace the brake blocks with longer mountain bike versions, the addition of lightweight pedals and strapless toeclips (a friend’s recent accident has made me wary of being strapped onto pedals – the leg break was very nasty!), and the use of relatively modern luggage, plus a Garmin Edge 200 GPS – just for tracking mileage and average speed.

Throughout the year of bike preparation, the help and advice I’ve had from Ben Abbots, a music student and qualified bike mechanic who works part time at John’s Bikes in Bath, has been invaluable. As a young bloke, Ben’s knowledge of, and enthusiasm for, vintage bikes is astonishing and he’s tackled every task on the Thanet with real commitment. I’m not sure this trip would be possible at all if it had not been for his help.

“It’s sad to grow old, but nice to ripen.” Brigitte Bardot

For most of what I know about Thanet bicycles, I have to thank Hilary Stone. Hilary, who lives in Bristol, and was a cycling journalist. I don’t know if he still writes about cycling but his book ‘Ease with Elegance’ subtitled ‘The Story of Thanet Cycles’ (ISBN 0 9512026 0 X) charts the history of the Thanet marque.

Hilary Stone’s little booklet traces the history of the Thanet marque. Produced as a limited edition of 1000, he still has a few copies for sale (£8.50).

When I met him, he confirmed that Thanet was the only bicycle manufacturer in Bristol in the early 1950s and it was he who told me that my Thanet, frame number 1533, was originally produced with a half-chrome, half-paint finish. The full chrome frame that it sports today was clearly part of refurbishment at some time in its history, probably more than 30 years ago.

Having discovered the existence of Thanet cycles, and the Silverlight model in particular, the next task was to find one. Hilary Stone had sold one just a few months before I started my search in May 2011. I thought that I may be able to buy it from the new owner but was dismayed to find it had been shipped to Australia, so the chances of that were very slim. It was very fortuitous that one appeared for sale on eBay just 2 weeks later. With 3 days of the auction to go, there were no bids. I contacted the seller, Bob Johnson, drove to Shepperton to see the bike and bought it on the spot.

Bob explained that the bicycle had previously been owned by his business partner, Jake Riviera (real name Andrew Jakeman), one time owner of world-famous Hetchins cycles, and perhaps best known as the co-founder of Stiff Records. Having stared making frames in 1934, Hetchins is still in the bicycle business today. On other aspects of the Thanet’s history, Bob was rather more vague. I got the impression that he had little interest in the bike, other than selling it for a good price, but for me it was a remarkable piece of luck to have found it. Only one other has appeared on eBay in the last year, and it didn’t look nearly as pretty, which matters.

Seven days from now, at 7:30am on April 1st, 2012, I’ll set out from the centre of Barcelona, Spain. I’ll start my journey from the old cathedral square, to cycle to Bristol, UK. I have to be home, near Bradford-on-Avon in Wiltshire, by midday on 14th April because my wife’s parents are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary with a party at our home. It’s a party I can’t miss.

The 1950 Thanet Silverlight, as I purchased it in 2011 with a single-speed, fixed wheel

The journey is unexceptional by cycling enthusiast standards. At least it would be if it weren’t for the fact that I am 60 years old on April 1st, and the bicycle upon which I’m undertaking the journey is about 18 months older, having first been sold on 22nd October 1950 to someone by the name of ‘Miriam’ residing in Liverpool.

Both the bicycle and I are going back to the place of our birth. The Thanet Silverlight road bike was made at 50 Elmdale Road, Bedminster, Bristol. The address is now a private house and I doubt very much that the present residents know about its place in cycling history. I was born 5.8 miles away in Southmead Hospital, Bristol.

I thought that the first ride of my 60th year should be something a little different. Taking one of only a hundred or so Thanet Silverlight’s known to exist back to where it was created gives the journey a purpose of sorts. It’s a challenge I’m looking forward to with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The word ‘Pyrenees’ looms large in my mind!