Wednesday 10 September: day four – Glastonbury to St Briavels

62.6 miles. 7:05 hours of cycling. Average speed 8.8mph. 

We got out of Glastonbury as quickly as possible in the morning and headed off across the levels to Wells. We found a completely straight single-track road along the side of a rhyne and pedalled off towards a bank of mist rising off the ground. Perhaps to most beautiful sight of the whole journey. 

We wandered round the centre of wells and lost each other for about half-an-hour before finding a cafe that provided a terrific cooked breakfast. 

Pete's Achilles had started to hurt. I know how painful that can be. About 20 years ago I cycled with Pete and my friend Ben from Lands End to Lostwithiel during which my Achilles swelled up so much I could not complete the ride. It took me several months to recover enough to get back on my bike.  

The climb up on to the Mendips was hard and we missed an important turning which meant we went further along the A39 towards Midsomer Norton than we should have done, but once we were on the top they were flat – just like the Blackdowns. Truly lovely cycling and we felt like the hard stuff – endless Cornish and Devonish river valleys – was really behind us. 

We dropped very fast towards Chew Valley and then worked our way across Ashton Park towards Bristol. We rode along the Avon gorge cycle path, which notwithstanding the heavy traffic was good cycling. I used to live in Clifton and Pete grew up in Bristol and went to Clifton College so we both felt at home. It is impossible not to feel excited by cycling under the Clifton suspension bridge. 

We carried on through Carhampton, very close to where Hilary’s daughter Ellie’s Dad used to live, and into Avonmouth. We stopped for drinks and food at a supermarket before starting the ride along the Severn estuary. 

The ride from Avonmouth to the Severn bridge was truly awful. There were a few cycle paths, which helped, but it was endless articulated lorries – often just a foot or two away. Nothing before or after matched its horribleness. 

As we were cycling through the Avon gorge and towards the bridge we kept passing, and then being passed by, a woman cycling on her own on a laden bike. At the approach to the bridge we got talking and discovered she was doing the end-to-end in a month on her own.  

The Severn Bridge is an amazing structure. It opened in 1966 when Pete was a schoolboy in Bristol. He and a friend cycled up to the bridge for its opening and were the first cyclists to cross it. 10 September 2014 was his first time across on a bike since then. 

I didn’t like crossing the bridge. It rattles with the traffic and sways with the wind and I felt quite vulnerable. I was also really suffering from cramp and had to stop at the western end to take of my shoes and socks and massage my toes. 

We slogged up through Chepstow to St Arval and then had an amazing descent to Tintern that went on and on and on. We knew we must have cycled all those feet up because we started at sea level and ended above sea level, but the descent was so long it was hard to believe. We reached Tintern in lovely early evening sunlight. 

We were heading for St Briavel YHA, which we discovered was a two mile climb up the edge of the valley. Quite a bit of walking went on. The hostel is in a castle and after the horrors of Glastonbury it was very welcome. The people running it were lovely and they served a brilliant breakfast – what more could you want. 

We had a whole bunk room to ourselves. We were in the guard room next to the hanging room. I understand it is so called because they hung their clothes there – not anything else! The bunk room had radiators and lots of places to dry newly washed cycling gear.  

We ate in the lovely George Inn and drank our, by now, regulation two pints each.