American Cemetery, Cambridge

Monday
Today was the day that we lost Fred. It was a bit strange - we got up and had breakfast in the hotel (very nice - particularly the mushrooms) and then went back to our rooms to sort the stuff out. Fred and Dave went to the foyer where Dave read his paper while he was waiting. Fred suggested going to the bike shop to fix Dave's wheel, but it was chained to mine, and I wasn't down yet. Ian passed them on his way for a swim. Fred apparently then picked up his bags and disappeared out of the door and that was the last we saw of him - Ian contacted his brother later, who said Fred had turned up, picked up his car and drove home. All we can think of was that he couldn't cope with our laid-back attitude to getting started and decided not to put up with it for the rest of the week.

Anyway, we eventually went to the bike shop, who were brilliant and fixed the wheel in about an hour. We went for a coffee in a nearby Waitrose and went back and picked it up. I bought a new inner tube, as I was a bit concerned about my tyre deflating again overnight.

Finally we set off for Cambridge, via the American Cemetery. We hadn't left Cambourne when my tyre deflated. I pumped it up, but as I removed the pump, it ripped the entire valve out of the tube! So, a quick dismantle of the back wheel, change the tube and we were on our way again - with Ian assuring us it was only a five mile ride.

It was another nice morning and pleasurable cycling following a Sustrans route. Then we reached a roundabout and out came the map. After a few minutes we decided it was straight on to the American Cemetery, which should have been about a mile down the road. Away went the map and we went off at the second exit. I thought that straight on was probably the first exit, but followed anyway. We went downhill steadily for about five miles and when we still hadn't reached the Cemetery, checked the map again. Sure enough, we should have gone off on the first exit.

We plotted the route back to the main road and set off, but where distracted by a very nice looking pub. It was every bit as nice as it looked, had good beer, so we had lunch.

We set off again and found the Cemetery. The number of white crosses never ceases to amaze me when I visit such places. Not only were there a huge number of crosses, but a wall some twelve feet high and at least two hundred yards long was filled with the names of servicemen and women who had no known resting place. Walking along it and reading the names was a very sobering experience. The whole place was beautifully kept and the headstones clean and cared for, as you can see in the blip.

We left the Cemetery and rode the rest of the way into Cambridge. The first inkling I had that it might be a bit different, was when a girl on a sit-up-and-beg bike cruised past me. As we got into the city proper, there were bikes everywhere. Bikes of all types, riders of all types, some in cycling gear, some without helmets, some in suits and ties or evening dress and all seemingly coming at us from a different direction!

We quickly got used to it, however, and it was really good to be somewhere so bike centred. There were bike lanes everywhere and buses and cars were really considerate. A very refreshing change from some cities.

We got to the youth hostel in good time and sorted our room out - a small room with two pairs of bunks - the bottom ones extremely low to the ground. Then we had a problem. Dave's trainers were honking! In the end, we made him put them on the window ledge outside, where they stayed for two days.

A quick shower and we ate in the youth hostel cafe, and had a reasonably early night having covered a mere 15.7 miles. A much more sensible total.