Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
in a car, but we could feel the progress that we were making with every revolution of our
bikes' tiny wheels.
After about half a mile of steady uphill we were faced with our first downhill. Safety
was not a concern on the scooter. The tyres were made of foam and it was so slow that we
had to push when going downhill. In the event that it did reach an out of control speed -
which it didn't - it had a functioning back brake to bring it to a gradual stop. To make it
more exhilarating on the scooter, you could stand sideways to make it feel like you were
snowboarding, albeit very slowly, and on tarmac.
The BMX, however, had no such luxury. Descending a Cornish hill on that bike was
like a skier attempting an icy black run on the first morning of ski school. The only way to
maintain control was to dig each foot into the tarmac to try and preserve balance and keep
the speed under control. We felt a rush of adrenaline after every corner that passed without
a nasty accident. It continued like this all the way to Zennor; a long, slow, uphill slog, fol-
lowed by a thrilling downhill. We swapped bikes regularly to even things out.
It became so dark that we could no longer see the contours of the road but we knew we
were getting closer to Zennor, as we could hear the distant purr of a cheesy wedding disco.
WereachedthevillageofZennoratabout9.30pm.IhadbeentoZennoroncepreviously,
but it was so dark on this visit that I didn't recognise it. All that I remembered was a story
about a mermaid, and a pub with good beer. We cared nothing about the mermaid, at this
point, so headed towards the pub.
On the way, we enquired at the youth hostel, but it was fully booked with wedding
guests, as Ross had predicted.
The wedding was in full swing in a marquee adjacent to the pub. There were people
everywhere, and
You Can't Hurry Love
by Phil Collins wailed out from the tent.
The pub - The Tinners Arms - was rammed. A combination of wedding guests and vil-
lagers spilled out onto the street. There was a small service window by the door, which
opened through to the area behind the bar. Ben poked his head through and asked if he
could speak to the manager. The manager, a Brian Blessed lookalike, appeared a few
minutes later.
'Whatdoyouwant,guys?I'mverybusyhere,'heaskedwhilstloadingtheglasswasher.
'We're here to offer to help you collect glasses, clear plates, pour pints, whatever needs
doing,' said Ben, trying a new approach.
'What's the catch?' asked Brian Blessed.
'We need somewhere to stay tonight,' conceded Ben. 'Anywhere, just some floor space
or a cupboard. Anything.'
'Sorry lads, I can't help I'm afraid. I'm fully booked with guests and I haven't got any
space at all. Plus, I'm fully staffed so you couldn't help anyway.'
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