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A big, hairy black cat walked towards us from across the road, right opposite where we
weresitting.Atthesametimeacoachwastearingdownwardsthroughthevillageandthere
was the rumble of something big coming the other way. The cat was completely unfazed
andpausedinthemiddleoftheroadtocleanitspaws.Thecoachscreechedtoahalt,andso
did the enormous combine harvester that emerged from the other direction. Both vehicles
waited patiently until the cat had cleared the road, before continuing with their respective
journeys. The cat then hopped up on to the picnic table where we were eating, discovered
there were no leftovers, licked the plates then jumped down and went through the front
door of the pub. When we took our plates through to the kitchen, it was asleep on one of
the bar stools.
'He's one of our regulars,' said Garth. 'He comes in most days about this time.'
Spurred on by our titanic lunch, we decided to aim for a record-breaking day on the
bikes. We hoped to do another 40 miles but it was 3pm by the time we set off, and our
lasagne sat heavily in our stomachs.
After leaving Thorverton the road crossed the River Exe by a weir and then climbed
gradually for a few miles. We passed through the town of Bradninch and the tree-lined
streets of Cullompton without even stopping.
We were ripping up the miles. We were whooping Devon's ass.
We reached the town of Wellington by about 5pm, having covered 43 miles, which in-
cluded a 10am start and a 2 ½ hour lunch. Taunton was only a few miles up the road so we
continuedonwards.AllIknewofTauntonwastheM5servicestationTauntonDeane-one
of my favourites on the M5. I knew that if Taunton was half as good as that service station,
I'd be a happy man.
We followed the busy A38 between Wellington and Taunton. It was the first stretch of
A-road we had been on since Camborne, and it made an exciting change. It was rush hour
andthetrafficwasstreaminginbothdirections,butwecouldfeeltheprogressthatwewere
making. The directions we followed took us on the A361 bypass around Taunton centre
without us even realising.
Taunton Deane service station is still all I know about Taunton.
The sun was sitting low in the sky and we decided to try to find accommodation at the
nextpossibleopportunity.TheA361,however,hadotherideas.Theroadsoonstraightened
out into a never-ending passage across the Somerset moors. The rush hour traffic had dis-
persed and we were left alone in an eerie calm.
Ben had not spoken for about an hour and this was a clear indication that he was in a
foul mood.
'You ok back there, Ben?'
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