A tiny tour !

Having failed dismally to do a “proper” tour this year, I decided to try something rather different, a few days away with a bike, touring from a fixed base. Not just any bike though, I needed something I could easily stick on a train, plane and automobile. There was only one candidate, that triumph of British Engineering (one of the few) and walk on bit part actor in the BBC’s W1A series. What else but a Brompton ! Luckily I’d purchased one just before Christmas, sort of by accident (but that”s another story). Over the summer I’d used it quite a lot and despite it’s rather quirky looks actually found it quite good fun to ride. Anticipating that I’d maybe want to do a bit of touring on it, I’d lowered the gearing and bought myself a rather expensive (as all things Brompton are) flight case.

So the first job before even deciding on when and where to go was to try fitting the Brompton into it’s case. It shouldn’t be hard I thought as the case is specifically designed to fit. I had added a rack and different handlebar grips to the Brompton, but was assured it would fit. There are eight possible ways you can orientate the Brompton to put it in the box, I know this because it was only on the final 8th attempt that it came close to fitting in. I say close because even though it would squeeze i to the box, the lid would not close properly. By this stage it’s fair to say I was a little stressed. However I removed some of the packing material in the case and with a bit of gentle persuasion and sitting on the case, I could fasten it shut. So there I was , just in search of a destination.

Bikeless summer holidays in Portugal and Greece came and went and the box was still sitting forlorn and unused in the shed. As luck would have it an unexpected gap appeared in my diary last week. I’d already decided as a tester for flying and touring on the Brompton I’d do a short fixed centre break somewhere. There were several candidates, Verona with excellent bike routes to neighbouring towns and Lake Garda, Berlin with the well designed Wall trail and Jersey because I’d never been there and I liked Bergerac !

Verona was out because it involved flying from Gatwick , that’s normally reason enough to rule out a destination for me but an added bonus was a minor covid outbreak among air traffic control staff, which caused major disruptions to the flight schedules. It was starting to get a bit late in the year for good weather in Berlin and prices of flights and hotels seemed unusually high in comparison to when I had checked earlier in the summer. Perhaps there was some sort of meeting or rally going on there. The clincher was looking at the comparative weather forecast though, Jersey was showing 6 days of continuous sun, obviously as this was on the BBC site I took it with a pinch of salt, but Yr the Norwegian weather service which my wife insists is always right (as she is) confirmed the prognosis. So Jersey it was, last minute flight and hotel booked all the remained was to pack and go.

Years of travelling had left me an expert in the art of packing light, and so it was that I was dragging about 45kg on the flight to Jersey.

Surprisingly it was a pretty straightforward journey, a combination of Uber and the wonderful Elizabeth line whisked me quickly and painlessly to Heathrow’s T5. There I was quickly relieved of my bags and whisked through fast track security to the joys of the BA Club Lounge, while the Brommie negotiated the subterranean passageways of T5. In case you think I’m throwing money around to go in the front of the plane and get VIP treatment, it was actually as cheap to travel business as to pay the excess baggage (that’s my excuse anyway)

A few hours later and the plane was rolling down the runway, Jersey bound. I was looking forward to my sumptuous afternoon tea on board, and of course a nice relaxing G&T. What I actually got was served and cleared at a speed of a F1 pit stop. The actual time in the air can’t have been more than about 35 mins, enough time to get one G&T down, but no time for the usual refill.

Jersey International Airport wasn’t quite on the scale of Heathrow, but that meant for a very quick arrival and baggage collection. I had been suffering from a little separation anxiety from the Brompton, but it turned up unscathed. The taxi ride into town was equally quick and gave me the first glance of Jersey, even the main roads didn’t seem that busy, what I did start to notice was it wasn’t as flat as I expected !

Home for the holiday was going to be one of Jersey’s two Premier Inns in St Helier , nothing flash but it was good value, and as it was just me and I’d no one to impress ! I also love that you know what you’re getting, decent size room, very comfy bed and clean fully functioning bathroom. It so so has the added benefit of on site restaurant, with the potential of opting for their “meal deal” full English Breakfast, Dinner and a drink for £24.99. I didn’t expect I’d have this every day, but it would make life easy if I was feeling tired and couldn’t be bothered to search for something better.

Check in went smoothly, as did the subsequent two days riding on Jersey. It really is a wonderful place to ride, with segregated cycle tracks along much of the South coast and “Green Lanes” with 15mph limits and walker and cyclist priority cross crossing most of the Island.

I concentrated on the West of the Island at first, to get away from the coast there were some pretty fierce climbs, but nothing that couldn’t be managed in the lowest gear and with sufficient breathers ! The scenery especially along the coast was wonderful

It was on Saturday when things started to take a turn for the worst. Fortified by as much of the buffet breakfast as I could eat, I set off East towards Gorey. Again the riding was fairly easy and I was soon enjoying a view of the impressive Mont Orgueil castle that dominates the town.

From there I was going to head a little further up the coast to explore some of the more deserted bays. This is where the seriously steep hills started. Again they were only to get away from the coast, once further inland it was gently rolling, but boy was this one steep.

Once I got towards my next destination I was greeted with a steep downhill, a fantastic view in the end but my joy was tempered by the knowledge of the climb to get back

I headed a bit further North before heading back to the hotel for a refreshing shower before dinner.

Jumping in the shower to remove the day’s grime, I noticed the water was luke warm if not almost cold. I guessed that I’d maybe turned the temperature down by mistake. After a few minutes of trying to avoid the cold water whilst furiously twisting the control and trying to work out which way made it hot I gave up and had a cold shower.

Slightly annoyed, I decided I would raise with “the management” on my way to dinner. Striding purposefully out of the lift , I moved towards the “unmanned” (unstaffed/personned for the woke generation) reception . Plastered all over the desk was a notice apologising for the lack of hot water at the hotel and laying the blame squarely in the lap of Island Energy, Jersey’s gas supplier. Consult their social media/website for updates they said.

So no hot water for the rest of the weekend, still at least I could enjoy a hot dinner and a full breakfast in the morning.

So Sunday morning came, as I was getting dressed I noticed a piece of paper pushed partway under the door – it wasn’t good news. The restaurant was closed – no food in the hotel.

So the rest of my time on the island was a combination of cold showers, hunting for hot food and lovely rides, I occasionally checked for updates on the restoration of the gas supply, but it was never good news. Even on Tuesday when I left it still wasn’t sorted. In fact it took until late Friday, for St Helier to have its gas supply restored.

Despite all the issues, I’d definitely recommend Jersey for a short break. It was a good test for travelling with the Brompton and a great introduction to a very pretty Island