Nearing Norfolk

We  woke to the sound of thunder and shortly after rising the heavens opened and it was clear that the weather forecast was correct.  It was not going to be a gentle ride in the countryside. Mr Durrant declared that the update he had listened to suggested that if we  had already experienced  rain then the skies would be clearing through the morning and for the rest of the day. I thought at that moment that this was merely wishful thinking on the forecasters part. It appeared to have lifted the spirits of my co rider. He was stipped down to his short shorts and ready for action.  I was convinced we were in for a good drenching. Following a breakfast of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, it is tough on this job,  we said our farewells to David and Sue, retrieved our bikes from their sheltering place in the church and took to the road just before 10.00 In my position as chief navigation officer I had prepared a route which would take us south east towards Bourne and thence to Spalding and Kings Lynn.  No major roads.  We were heading for Norfolk but first we had to clear the Fens. The miles were being clocked up but the weather was closing in and it was not long before the rain was teaming down and so it continued for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. If there is a positive side to the conditions it was the fact that there was no wind which made the going a little easier. With plenty of experience under our belts, after such a distance,  we pressed on regardless of conditions. We crossed the Vale of Belvoir and into the wolds around Waltham.  Challenging hills. No complaints just sheer effort.    Everything was getting soaked. Unfortunately my road atlas, the key to my successful navagation efforts for weeks around and about England, had got wet and the page was disintergrating in my hands.  RD became fearful that he may well find himself trapped in the fens with no escape route to ride.  The tune to the film Deliverence came into my head and I hummed it to him.  We took a well earned break at the Blue Dog at Sewstern and were revived  by  a hot drink and a bar of chocalate. When we ventured outside again the rain had stopped and the skies were lifting.   Energy levels restored we flew over the hills to Bourne the final frontier before the Fens.  We stopped at the Firkin Pub / Cafe.  I opted for the Cream Tea.  Strange thing was that it did not include the tea.   Almost knowing the answer,  I requested a separate cup of Earl Grey.   Bourne is not yet ready for Earl Grey tea. I settled for the bog standard variety. The sun was out now and the road straight and flat. Like something out of an episode of Star Trek, Captain T Durrant asked Scotty  Simington  to give him full thrust and speed things along.   And so I did.  Through Tongue End we swept not wishing to linger and on to Pode Hole.  Between Bourne and Spalding we averaged 17mph.  A tour record.  Spalding had some strange sights to behold in and around the town.  There is life Dickie but not as we know it!   Still on the side roads we moved on towards our afternoon destination, of Tydd Gote where we had agreed to rendezvous with members of the Durrant Clan. At  Tydd St. Mary we were tracked down and quickly  found a place to leave our trusty bikes for the evening and night. A great favour.   66 miles on the ride for the day and again another record.   Back to Murdo's home for supper and clean up.   All very welcome.  To the Bell Inn near Fakenham for a drink or two to bring the day to a close.  1107 miles on the clock and so it mounts up.