Preston to Morecambe

Another start under grey skies and in drizzly rain. Preston is not the easiest place to cycle in. Many streets are one way and the street our hotel was on was no exception. The way we wanted to go was against the flow but it was Sunday morning and there was little traffic here. Soon we found ourselves on busier roads going the way we wanted to but we still weren’t on the planned route. An Irish roadie came alongside, wanting to chat about The Beast and gave us some help with picking up our intended route, so it didn’t take long and we were back in our territory – the back lanes. I was worried about flooding but the friendly Irish man had ridden the way we were heading the day before and reassured us it was ok. The drizzle kept coming and going, making waterproofs a necessity all morning. The fields either side of the lanes were sometimes full of water but it didn’t encroach onto the road. After about 12 miles we passed through Great Eccleston and spotted a cafe.

Great Ecclestone cafe. Popular with cyclists.

Great Ecclestone cafe. Popular with cyclists.

Tea and coffee an walnut cake for me and chocolate cake for Karon. A stack of road bikes outside had signalled this place was popular with cyclists and sure enough, an cacophony of cleats on the stairs announced their imminent departure. The Beast received quite a bit of attention as they readied themselves for the off. About an hour later we saw them heading back the other way and there were various greetings exchanged as we passed.

As we neared Lancaster we picked up another cycle path along a disused rail line. It would take us right into Lancaster and across the river Lune. Better still, it had no restrictive gates!

Once across the river we picked up another cycle path heading back out along the opposite bank, making for Morecambe. We almost followed it right to the sea front but at a rail crossing we were thwarted by a kissing gate. No way was The Beast going through there. So our last half mile or so was along roads that spat us out onto the promenade. The clouds had gone and the sun was shining from a deep blue sky. Life is good! Wonderful views across the bay to the hills of the Lake District beyond.

The Midlands Hotel, Morecambe. We stayed elsewhere but came back for a slap up meal in the evening.

The Midlands Hotel, Morecambe. We stayed elsewhere but came back for a slap up meal in the evening.

We were early for our B&B so cycled along the prom to a cafe for soup and pavlovas (not together 😛 ). As we ate, we were entertained by a bunch of para surfers streaking back and forth across the bay. How they all do that and not get tangled is beyond me.

We checked in, parked up The Beast and then showered and changed. We’re now sitting in the bar at the ‘Art Deco’ Midland Hotel, enjoying the views and a drink before eating in the restaurant. And it’s nice to be able to say, this one’s on ‘The Stream’ – a birthday present for my recent 60th from the guys and gals I work with.

Thanks ‘Stream’!!! Xxx. See you all around the end of July.