Alternative London-Brighton
Posted on Wednesday 27 June 2007 by Charlie Keep
We set off from Clapham South and wended our way out of South London and gradually into the Surrey countryside. At various points on the way we were reminded of the mayhem and muppetry of the official London to Brighton by signs left over from the previous week pointing out the route and reminding us helpfully to “ride on the left”. Although having said that, later in the day I could have done with a reminder along the lines of “don’t pull out into the path of fast approaching vehicles coming in both directions”. A momentary lapse of reason which gave me pause to reflect on my mortality somewhat more than I would have liked to.
Lunch at the Kings Head was welcome and well received. I had a stilton ploughmans which was pretty good but I suffered from lunch envy as everyone else’s looked nicer than mine, particularly Alex’s fishcakes. Phil had a sleep on the grass as we admired the impressive view out over the recently conquered North Downs.
After lunch we got the only proper drenching of the day as the heavens opened and the sound of thunder caused us to briefly discuss whose bike was the made of the most conducive material.
Ditchling Beacon looms out of the landscape in a satisfyingly foreboding manner as it is approached from the North. We all made it up without much complaining and Michael had an ice cream at the top as promised. We all put our jackets on as we got another dose of wind and rain coming off the sea. This prompted the abandonment of the beach visit and a move to go directly to the pub.
The Evening Star sells more different kind of beer than you would think possible. I asked the barmaid to recommend me a couple and first got something made by Bavarian monks and then the delightfully named “Spezial Hell”. Both very good, serious, proper lager. Most of the rest of the groups were bitter people (in the nicest possible sense), and seemed equally pleased with the range and quality.
On the train back to London we badly confused an already rather confused young lady who had got on the wrong train and asked for our advice. As only Londoners can we offered her seven or eight different and increasingly complex ways she could get to her destination. The advice she really needed was to lay off the weed when travelling.
All in all a cracking ride which got us to Brighton remarkably quickly in around four and a half hours riding time.