Days 48 and 49: An unexpected phone call and a mad dash to Cornwall

I make my morning phone call home to Sian in Fishguard and hear the news that my Mum has been taken into hospital yesterday evening with heart issues. 

I pack everything quickly, set Satty for Calais and head directly towards the Eurotunnel. 

I don't stop to take photos. Head down, throttle open, I ride to the terminal as quickly as a Honda C90 will go and pay to bring my crossing a few days ahead. The next train is in 15 minutes - letter Z, row 2.  I ride on with half a dozen other bikes - the usual mix of tourers, and I pull the little Honda up onto its centre stand. It wobbles alarmingly as the train sets off. 

Time to point Satty towards Cornwall. Twenty minutes later I'm riding on the left. It feels odd - unnatural. I continue riding for hours, until the light starts to fade and look for somewhere to sleep. 

A Travelodge; "Full to the rafters. Sorry." A campsite; closed. No one answers the number on the reception door.

It's getting dark and I realise that my tail lamp bulb has failed. I'm tired and I've got to stop soon.

I see a break in the crash barriers and try to pull the bike in. The space might just be big enough for a tent. The wheel sinks into the mossy bog. It takes precious minutes to drag the bike back out onto the road. 

I ride with my foot resting lightly on the brake pedal so as to illuminate the rear. 

I come to a roundabout and turn off onto a smaller road, then turn again onto a, yet smaller, lane. I ride a few hundred yards and see a slight entrance into some rough woods, nothing more than ten yards deep. It might do. I wheel the bike in and lean it against a tree while I check the place out. There's rubbish and toilet paper on the floor. It's not pleasant and I can't see a space big enough between the scrubby trees to fit my tent.

I decide to walk down the lane on foot and find a little grassed-over track leading to a galvanised field gate. It doesn't look like it's used much. The lock and chain are rusty and the grass hasn't been driven on. It'll have to do. 

I go back and get the bike and ride up to the gate. In the last of the light I cover the bike with the camouflaged cover and set the tent up - right in front of the gate. I intend to set out very early so I shouldn't even be noticed, let alone cause any problems for the farmer.

I crawl into the sleeping bag, still in most of my clothes and give Sian a final call before falling immediately asleep as soon as I shut my eyes.

Day 49:   I ride flat out all day, stopping only for fuel, both for the bike and me. Petrol, hot chocolate and a pasty. It's a very long ride.

I get to Mum's, glad to find that she's been discharged, awaiting further tests. I'll stay here another day and then head back to Fishguard on Monday. It's a two day ride so I've booked a hotel in Chepstow and hope to get home to Sian and Floss some time early Tuesday evening.

It's been an unexpected detour but  it's been good to see Mum and  I'm relieved that she's OK. I'll take a few more pictures on my way home and post them up with a final message to wind up this blog and the adventure. Of course, there HAS to be a photo of my arrival back where it all started, one April Fool's morning, back home in lovely Fishguard in Wales.