Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Day 11 - Singing for sandwiches
Up Holland to Milnthorpe - 67 miles
Jaime-Lea was serving at breakfast and she had reverted back to her zombie-like work
persona. She did manage a coy smirk as she brought us both a coffee, but didn't offer any-
thing in the way of conversation.
I discovered that the Lancashire Manor Hotel closed down soon after our stay. Not be-
cause of us, I should add. It was a sad, yet somehow predictable end. How such a big hotel
had survived in such a random location for so long was a surprise in itself. Here I am giving
them the write up that I promised and it's now all worthless. Having said that, I haven't giv-
en it the most glowing of reviews; drunken waitresses, thieving bar staff, a deserted restaur-
ant, and its proximity to Runcorn. I do hope that the staff all found jobs elsewhere, though,
and that Jamie-Lea found somewhere else to live.
Mr Smiddy's shorts were outrageous. They were verging on obscene and barely legal.
Unlike most running shorts, these didn't have any sort of lining and were slit all the way up
to the waist on each side. This meant that a section of my Union Jack boxer shorts at the top
of each thigh was on permanent display every time I moved my legs.
They were incredibly invigorating, though. I felt free. I felt liberated. I felt naked. Com-
pared to the suit trousers, they were incredible. I could feel the air on my legs - as well as
more intimate places. I suddenly felt more athletic, too, like I had been wearing the trousers
pre-competition to keep warm, and now I had changed into my proper sporting gear. My
legs instantly felt stronger, my body felt more energized and I was raring to go.
Soon after leaving the hotel we found ourselves hopelessly lost.
We had reached the village of Up Holland and it appeared that there was only one road
outofthevillage,whichwehadtaken.Itturnsoutthereisanalternativeroadthatwemissed.
It was four miles and a long uphill walk before we realised this.
Ben and I blamed each other, and so hardly spoke for the entire morning. When we did
speak, it was to gripe about the navigation.
'But I don't understand how you could miss out such a crucial direction on the route,'
said Ben.
'Well you can do the navigating from now on if you like. Do you think I enjoy spending
bloody ages copying out the route onto a stupid bit of paper each morning?'
Ben paused.
'There must be a better way. Can't we just get someone to photocopy the page of the
route book for us each day, so that we've got the exact directions and you still don't need to
carry the whole book whilst cycling,' he said.
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