Around the quiet back lanes of Broadstone, Corfe Mullen and Lychett Matravers we rode through the surface water which speckled our faces with mud. At our age freckles really don’t look cute.
On over the undulating hills, passing a group of sluggish cyclists struggling up an incline. We self-righteously celebrated our fitness while going down the other side, through the village and then had a quick stop for a drink – only to be passed by the slow wellington-wearing cyclists.
Note to ourselves: pride comes before a fall; a serious case of the tortoise and the hare.
Penny on the other hand was hopping from road, to bank, to grass verge, while taking pictures of the more than spectacular view, no sign of the effort she had just put in. It gave the impression I had taken hours to climb the hill when actually I had arrived less than 30 seconds later.
We captured the views from Studland, across Brownsea Island and Poole Harbour, something the weather had prevented us from doing on our previous ride, then down to the chain link ferry to arrive just as its jaws were closing. Eeeek our photos would have to wait as we did a James Bond style (bike) leap to ensure that we didn't have to wait for it to return. Phew!
The home stretch. Around the harbour watching the kite surfers coursing at great speeds and in varying stages of in, out, or on the water, along White Cliff and Baiter where the wind blew strong and wild, almost blowing us off course, along the Quay to Asda!!!!!!!
Penny needed a bugle horn for her bike. Does Costa Rica know she is coming? They soon will.
Amanda
Click on photos below to enlarge.