My short little romp around the South of England on the Dawes Galaxy
I cycled another 105 miles from London through Kent and down to East Sussex because clearly I enjoy pain.
Hey you, it's happened again — I've been on another bike ride. At this point, it seems I just can't keep out of the saddle! I had a few days off work and wanted to make the most of the weather before winter wraps its claws around us, so I hit the road again. The journey was a bit mad so I'd like to share it here. It turns out there are a lot of hills in the south east of England and I found out the hard way that Google Maps likes to torture its cycling users by directing them on some very tricky routes!
My goal was Great Dixter House & Gardens in the South East of England. This is a garden that author Christopher Lloyd (not to be confused with television writer Christopher Lloyd) tended to for the majority of his life.
Great Dixter is about 67 miles southeast from London and whilst I'd cycled almost double that during the Dunwich Dynamo, I was also left feeling a bit broken after cycling 112 miles. Being exhausted and broken doesn't really make you keen to look around some pretty gardens. So I broke the trip into a few days and affectionately referred to it as my little romp around the south of England.
Since I was going to be down that way, I took the opportunity to extend the trip and cycle along the beautiful South Coast of England to pop into Brighton to see family. All of this before cycling back up through the country from Brighton to Crawley to get the train back into London.
What was supposed to be a quick and easy jolly ride around the south of England for a few days turned out to be somewhat of an arduous journey! One thing this taught me is that I've formed quite a habit of being overly optimistic about the difficulty of these long rides. I guess it's a good thing though because I probably wouldn't attempt them otherwise!
And on with the journey...
Day One
London → Sevenoaks → Royal Tunbridge Wells • 41 miles of cycling
My first day started around 10am. I spent the morning tending to the bike, making sure it was ready for what lay ahead. The gears had been giving me a little bit of trouble where they don't quite slip into the correct placement. Something I really should have had checked out, but it wasn't causing too many issues on my short commute to work so I thought it would be fine. This was mistake #1 as I found out later on! I lubed up the chain and hoped for the best (there's that overly pessimistic attitude again — some call it naiveté!).
The journey started really well. I cruised out of London quickly and was making good progress as I flew out of the southeast of the city past Dulwich, Bromley, and Orpington. Before I left, I'd searched on Google Maps and found a cafe next to a Wildlife Reserve that I officially made my first destination. About two and a half hours from my boat and just outside of Sevenoaks. Anna's Cafe. It looked like a good place to stop and refuel from what I could see online, but reality has a tendency to be a little different sometimes, doesn't it?
I turned up and it was a small estate with a few different businesses spread in a horseshoe shape. One of them was a building that was literally a large garden shed — this is the Anna's Cafe I'd been cycling towards for the last two and a half hours! As I cycled into the estate, I was immediately confronted by a large cage with two very angry dogs inside. Clearly they weren't too pleased about this London boy coming into their territory and were very eager to let me know about it. A giant sign that read "Stay Away" in red letters on the front of the cage wasn't all that necessary to be honest. The rabid barking from these two monstrous dogs was telling me all I needed to know.
So this was my first stop! It was far from the tranquil spot I thought I was riding to, which I had assumed was overlooking the beautiful Wildlife Reserve I saw on the map (I'm assuming it's beautiful because I never did end up seeing it).
As I got off my bike and walked over to Anna's Cafe, there were three people sitting outside angrily discussing their hatred of Deliveroo and Uber Eats and how these companies are single-handedly causing small food businesses to fail. Ah, such tranquil bliss I had walked into! I couldn't tell who was frothing at the mouth more; these three or the dogs.
I did a quick search of literally anywhere else I could go in the area but everything was either closed or in the next town over. My legs and neck were protesting at the thought of cycling any further, so I swallowed hard and decided to head in past the three people outside who looked at me as if I was an alien arriving from outer space.
But right here was a real moment of learning not to judge a book by its cover when Anna herself welcomed me as she stood up from the table of the three Deliveroo haters. She was surprisingly very warm and kind that I instantly felt at ease after that somewhat terrifying arrival. I felt bad for assuming the worst and happily ordered a giant egg & bacon bap. And it only cost me £4! £1 coffee on top of that — unheard of in London!
Sufficiently refuelled, I hit the road towards my next destination: Knole. A gorgeous country house has a storied history with many owners and is the birthplace of writer Vita Sackville-West, lover of Virginia Woolf. Upon arriving, I discovered by chance that today was a Heritage Open Day organized by the National Trust, making entry to Knole free—a very nice surprise! I cycled past the ticket gate and was immediately struck by the beauty of the grounds, with deer scattered everywhere across its fields. One was grazing just yards from the road I was cycling down. I started to feel like this really was a special place. I spent some time exploring the house, which was lovely, of course, but the grounds were far more stunning.
After Knole, I carried on riding south towards my final destination of day one, the hotel I was staying at just outside of Tunbridge Wells. I chose the route with the least amount of hills from the three options chosen by Google Maps and got cracking.
Unfortunately, I didn't quite check the route properly and ended up smack bang in the middle of a huge field. My bike with all of its extra weight just couldn't get through the tall grass so I had to get off and walk... and walk... and walk. After a lot of walking and a couple of difficult-to-pass-with-a-heavy-bike gates I made it back out onto paved road again. However, as I was trundling through this field, I did pass an older couple out on a lovely evening stroll and even they said hello as I went by. One thing I love about being in the countryside is that everyone greets you, even if you're an out of breath, red-faced cyclist from out of town!
Finally back onto paved road again, I hit another of those steep hills that the South really seems to be full of. It was halfway up this gruesome hill when trouble (i.e. my first puncture) struck. I thought to myself, "Perfect time." I was worn out from the journey, my legs and ankles were scratched to bits, the panniers kept rubbing against my wheels and then here, my flat tire, was the final straw! Actually, rain really would have been the cherry on top, wouldn't it? I admit I did throw my hands up and question when the rain would be coming, but for now it was staying dry at least.
I got to work at taking my back wheel off and pulling out the offending inner tube. As quickly as I could muster, I changed it and hurried over to the hotel. I was in such a rush that I almost left my brand new glasses behind in the grass! I arrived at the reception sweat-drenched and ready to lie horizontal. Which is what I did shortly after having a shower and finding something for dinner.
During dinner, I finally felt karma rewarding me for all the struggles it took to get here. I wandered in to find something to eat and discovered a large dining hall full of people, with a buffet trolley off to the right. As I approached the buffet, I was greeted with chicken, vegetables, and a tasty-looking risotto. The lady behind the cart asked what I wanted, and as she plated up my order, she mentioned, "Oh by the way, dinner starts from 6 p.m." I glanced at my watch, which read 7:15 p.m. I asked her what time it ended, and she replied, "7 p.m."
I apologized, explaining I had no idea dinner was only available for an hour. She reassured me it was fine for today but asked me to come earlier tomorrow. I thought, "Not a problem," since I'd be leaving the next day. Then she added, "Yeah, it's odd because dinner usually starts at 6:15 p.m. and goes until 7:15 p.m., but I think your team requested the later dinner time," pointing towards the people sitting in the hall behind me.
I looked around and suddenly realized all those people weren't random hotel guests but were part of one big team! I had accidentally wandered into their private dinner, and the lady assumed I was with them! I laughed, said something like, "Oh yeah, I think they must have," took the food, and quickly made an exit. I found a table in the conservatory off the main dining room, where no one was sitting, and ate as quickly as possible, all the while wondering if the staff would show up and catch me eating some poor bugger's dinner!
As day one drew to a close, I just about had enough energy left to lift myself into bed. Sleep came quicker than ever before.
Day Two
Royal Tunbridge Wells → Great Dixter → Rye → Brighton • 36 miles of cycling
I was up, fed, packed, and on the bike by 8:30 a.m. and on the road down to Great Dixter. This visit was the main goal of my entire trip. I had never been there before, and my good friend Sarah told me that early September was a fantastic time to visit (spoiler alert: it certainly was). However, the journey to Dixter wasn't easy. The road was gruelling, with hill after hill battering my legs and lungs. At least this time, it was paved, for which I was thankful. After day one, I was more hardened and getting better at pushing through the pain. It was during these hills that I regretted not sorting out my gears before the trip. Fiddling with gear shifters and trying to find the right gear halfway up a hill is no fun at all.
About three hours after I left the hotel, I arrived at Great Dixter. I was so happy to see the sign by the entrance — if only because it meant I could stop cycling for now! I made a beeline straight for the café and had the biggest cup of coffee they could offer. I took this moment to take in the beautiful surroundings I found myself in and took great joy in listening to all the excited chatter from the excited visitors, like bees buzzing around lavender.
After I was all coffee'd up and able to stand again, I made my way through the nursery into the garden and spent the next couple of hours wandering around in total awe of how gorgeous this place is. Early September definitely was a great shout, thank you Sarah! All of the plant life had erupted into an ensemble of colour and fragrance and I couldn't stop myself from falling deeply in love with this special garden.
For over 30 years, head gardener Fergus Garrett has given the garden his exacting attention and care. Garrett worked closely with the house's owner, Christopher Lloyd, to revive a garden that, in Lloyd's words, had somewhat lost its way. What immediately captured my attention, and lies at the heart of Dixter, is the sheer amount of biodiversity. An almost endless array of plants and flowers thrive and coexist harmoniously. The meticulous planning involved in this garden is truly awe-inspiring. A sign near the car park offers visitors advice on encouraging biodiversity in their own gardens: "Don't do exactly what your neighbour is already doing; look over the fence — if they have a pond, build a dry stone wall instead. If they cut their lawn short, think about some longer grass areas. Aim for a mosaic of different habitats." Such simple but fantastic advice. As with all things in life, aim for balance.
There's a brilliant video on YouTube of Fergus Garrett giving a talk about the biodiversity at Dixter. It really nicely shows the care that's gone into the garden. It's also nice to see pictures of Great Dixter at different times of the year.
After I inspected every corner of the garden I could, I took a little jaunt around the gift shop and bought a few things including some wonderful playing cards with illustrations of mushrooms on them and a few copies of the brilliant Great Dixter Journal and headed back out on the road.
My next stop of the day was the quaint little town of Rye. I'd always heard wonderful things from those who had visited, so I knew I had to check it out for myself. The town seems to be somewhat stuck in the past in a charming way. I only had time to cycle through before getting the train down to Brighton, but I did visit a gorgeous old sweet shop and cycled past a nice record store built into an old Grammar School. I took a quick picture of it to remind myself to go back and visit one day.
When I arrived in Brighton on the train, the rain that I'd so desperately hoped wasn't coming finally arrived and it chucked it down. I still think fondly of this city - a place I used to call home many years ago. Arriving in Brighton still fills me with a lot of joy (despite the rain!). There's a buzz in the air; a certain atmosphere that's unique. Seeing all of the changes in the last few years made me desperately want to spend a bit more time here exploring again.
Luckily, I still have family living in Brighton. After a hot shower and an even hotter bowl of chilli, I spent the night sleeping on my auntie's couch. A few glasses of funky French cider helped me fall asleep quickly.
Day Three
Brighton → Horsham → London • 26 miles of cycling
The final day of the tour! I had a slow morning catching up with family in Brighton and started cycling around 11:30am. My only destination of the day was a lovely bakery in Horsham that I found in a book by Hoxton Mini Press called Britain's Best Bakeries. I bought the book thinking that I could use it as a good enough reason to travel around the country to towns and cities I haven't been to yet. Pastries and coffee always make for a nice destination. I also thought it might help my wife and I find our new favourite spots for baked goods when we leave London one day. It all feels terribly first-world-problem-ish to fear missing London bakeries but it's the small pleasures in life, right?
Today's journey started beautifully. Cycling along the south coast has long been a joy of mine. When I was training to cycle from London to Brighton in 2014, I would speed along this coast between Eastbourne and Worthing on my old Raleigh. A 3-hour journey with only a handful of leg-destroying hills. So I was in my element here and enjoying the nostalgia of the journey over the lock at Shoreham Power Station and through the neat little town of Shoreham-by-Sea. It was here that I would usually carry on towards Worthing, but today the journey took me inland on the way up towards London instead. Horsham, my destination, is halfway between Shoreham and the southern boroughs of London.
Once I had detoured from my old route and started heading inland, the path started getting choppy as I began cycling over plenty of gravel roads. Around this point, I really wished I'd packed some gravel tyres! These and some comfortable pedals are two changes I should make for next time.
Just outside Steyning, I fell victim to too much reliance on Google Maps. I was following its directions along a dusty gravel path for quite some time when it asked me to turn into a road which had a sign that informed me I was heading into a dead-end. However, being stubborn, I didn't want to stop and search for an alternative route and just assumed the sign was for cars and I'd be fine on the bike. More gravel paths later and another turning that the map was urging me into is where I came across another sign that said "Farm Access ONLY". But by this point I was well and truly committed! I had to give it a shot and cycled slowly through the farm, all the while half expecting a farmer to jump out of a barn and shout at me for being on their property.
I reluctantly followed the blue line on the map, and then what I feared actually happened. The way forward was completely blocked by a barbed wire fence. Karma had obviously thought I needed to settle my bill for that free meal on the first night! At this point I did what I do best and began to panic (haha, great idea!). If only there were an Olympic sport for catastrophising! I thought this detour would cause me to miss the bakery which was closing at 4pm and I was already on course to arrive at 3:10pm before having to head back. It was going to be close! I considered throwing my bike over the fence (which was taller than me!) or trying to go round and wade through the river on either side but eventually decided to do the wise thing and find another route.
Back through the farm it was then. Sorry farmer, I should have trusted your sign! I returned to the last crossroads and went straight instead of right. Luckily, this paid off big time and I only had about 15 minutes added to my arrival time which was now at around 3:25pm. Everything was going to be okay! Except fate still had more in store for me.
When I reached Henfield, the map directed me to a forest path that cut straight through to Partridge Green, the next village. It was a nice shortcut to avoid the A road and its speeding cars. But, of course, the forest path was closed for maintenance! Why wouldn't it be!? Maintenance which had started just a few days before my journey. A barrier blocked the entrance to the path, and once again I was torn between finding another route or just chucking my bike over. After a minute of contemplation, I decided against the latter, fearing I might encounter an angry bunch of contractors on the other side. Going around and taking the A road seemed a bit less dramatic. It was quite amusing to hear the Google Maps voice insist I turn around over and over again as I cycled in the opposite direction.
The A road was a bit nasty, but I'd had worse on this trip for sure. You get the odd loser in a car who passes far too close, but generally people are fairly kind to cyclists around here. It's far scarier cycling on those tiny single track country roads with towering hedges and corners that twist and turn. I feared that a car was going to come speeding around a corner that I couldn't quite see around. "You'll hear them, but will they see you before hitting the brakes?" I constantly asked myself.
After my detour, I was back on the right route again. It looked like I was still going to arrive at the bakery at around 3:30 p.m., which is more than enough time to drop everything for something sweet and a well-earned coffee. The final stretch of the journey was basically all forest roads until I got just outside of Horsham. These paths certainly were more peaceful and beautiful though. It was wonderful to be bathed in the dappled light of the sun shining through the leaves above. This kind of ground doesn't lend itself to speed though. I tried, and failed, to make up for the lost time at the farm!
By now, I was becoming increasingly desperate for that pastry as I got closer to my destination. All the pain of riding on these bumpy roads and getting sore wrists, neck, and bum was all going to be worth it for some tasty treat! Heck, I didn't even care what they had left at this time of the day, I'll eat anything. "All you have left is a stale Pain au Raisin? Sign me up!"
So I found it absolutely hilarious when I turned up and Gwyn's bakery was closed. HA! Yeah, it turns out they had just had a baby and making pastries for tired cyclists is the last thing on their mind right now. They're certainly much more exhausted than I was, that's for sure! I was so happy for them and so upset at myself for not checking their Instagram before visiting. Where I would have found a pinned post that explains all of this and I would have certainly known not to rush. And, who knows, maybe could have even enjoyed myself on the journey to Horsham! I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this point. Gwyn's, if you're reading this, I promise I'll be back one day!
I had a quick cycle through Horsham and a bite to eat and recounted my story to the waitress who told me she liked my bike. She insisted I must go and try this new bakery in town called Gail's which is sooooo good. For those who don't know Gail's, that's a little bit like telling someone to go try Starbucks because their coffee is sooooo good. I.e. it certainly has a place and a time, but cycling 26 miles for Gail's is a bit bonkers.
I boarded the train feeling somewhat defeated but ultimately proud of the journey I'd just taken to get here! In total, it was about 105 miles, which is just a touch shorter than the Dunwich Dynamo. Despite all the trouble, it was actually a really positive experience (maybe because of all the trouble!), and I learnt so much about bike touring that I think I could improve next time for the big one; my dream of cycling the length of Japan. But I may just do a few more practice runs before committing to that madness!
Thank you for making it this far. I'd like to say a massive thank you to Ben Langworthy for lending me all the bits and pieces that made this ride much better and more comfortable.
Please share this with anyone you think might enjoy it and if you'd like to support this newsletter please purchase one of my albums over on Bandcamp, or consider becoming a paid subscriber here on Substack. My music is also on Spotify and Apple Music.
SJF