Yesterday’s ride to Chester was one of those ones where you tuck your head into your chest, hunch your shoulders, and just go.
Our longest day yet, at 70 miles. We kicked off in light drizzle, which became a sudden downpour the moment we’d taken our coats off. Woops. Mighty damp.
We crunched through the miles after that, stopping mainly to eat, to drink, and to pee.
Around Ellesmere my parents pitched up, driving right up behind us at a set of lights, which was brilliant. They joined us for dinner in the lovely Tudorbethan town of Chester, and spent our rest day with us today too.
It was great to have a day off the bikes – not so much physically, but more psychologically, just to have something else to think about. We were even treated to a full massage at a posh spa – hugely relaxing, and a fantastically surreal counterpoint to our more regular daily exertions.
Tomorrow we pedal to Liverpool, and on towards Preston, and the ride should include a couple of canals, a ferry across the Mersey, and 100 statues. Can’t wait.