I woke early and got a lift with Dad to Junction 17 on the M4 motorway and then cycled to Chippenham in the early morning air, fresh, but a little chilly at 15 Mph. Chippenham was just opening up when I arrived, the market stall owners had been ready for hours it seems, but the rest of the shops were setting up for the day.
I headed eastwards towards Calne as I knew that Ailesbury Close was near that junction and accidentally got lost in a housing estate. I got to Monk's Way at the wrong end and eventually found the little beauty that was Ailesbury Close nestled on the right in all its suburban splendour. I cycled up and down it and had a little look around including nearly being run over by one of it's residents. I thought this very inconsiderate from one Aylesburian to another.
My goal for today complete, I then had my most major task to go, get back to Swindon, or more precisely, Wroughton to mett Dad so I could go home.I set off in search of the Chippenham to Calne railway path and could not find it anywhere where it should have been. I even ended up in a game reserve looking for a footpath to get there. I had to resort to a strategy of going along the road until I saw the wonderful bridge spanning above my head and then climbing up the bank to get on the path. Some more signing would have been more convenient, however, once on the path I made rapid progress towards my goal and after going through a sand pit and Quarry I ended up in Wooten Bassett. This town did not live up to its name. I left promptly and got very lost in footpaths, actually ending up in the centre, half an hour after leaving, how rubbish was that! I found the canal footpath which rapidly disappears and left my following a bridle way, (not a bridal way) and ended up in some fields near Wrooughton following a ridgeway the wrong way, totally lost. The Duchess of Cornwall better sort out this path as head of the Canal and Waterways charity in charge of this stretch.
I sat down and read the paper for a bit to get my energy back. This was a disaster, I was out of water, in the middle of nowhere and time was getting on. Luckily a jogger came upon my path and pointed out to me where on the map I was. I realised my error and set about making up for it by crossing the ridgeway as directly as possible and tracking back down the other side on a quick road. I eventually made it to Wroughton, just, at around 1700 and met Dad. The secretary was probably shocked to see a sweaty dehydrated man appear at her desk. I managed to drink 1 Ltr of water in the next 5 minutes and read a bit more of the paper as Dad finished and then went home knackered and went to bed early.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
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