New Forest Fun

So last weekend, when we were recovering from our Wandsworth Borough Hurricanes, the Texan suggested that we all go down to the New Forest and hike (good idea) or cycle (dubious).

The Vol-in-Law and I didn't think much more of it, let's say it was mentally pencilled in, but for the Texan it was writ in ink. She emailed us Friday saying she had reserved bikes and that we should arrive at the cycle-hire place at around 9:30. I'm struggling to finish off an early draft of a new product, so I can only engage via terse 3 or 4 word replies, but the Vol-in-Law's response is:

I'm sorry, unless Vol literally drags me out of bed and pushes me into the car I can't see being there at 9:30, which looking at the map would involve leaving the house around 7:00 if we go by car, maybe earlier. I've had my toughest work week ever and I'm not the most chipper [in the AM at the best of times]. That said, I would be wiling to go for as gosh-darn early a start as we can possibly manage. Realistically, that's me leaving the house about 8:30. Maybe 8:15 at a pinch.

No, the Vol-in-Law is not a morning person. No, siree. His chosen career in academia, allows him late starts on most days. I get up early, but I'm not really a morning person either, since I spend my first hour of semi-wakefulness wandering around the house and garden, blurry eyed sipping coffee, smoking and avoiding any conversation.

Anyway, we manage to leave the house around 8:40. We pick up the Texan at her house in Wandsworth Town, and head down the motorway to the New Forest. We stop at the New Forest visitor centre in Lyndhurst which is full of visitor centre tat (fudge, postcards and other useless items meant to provide a full 30 seconds of consumer glee). The Texan and the Vol-in-Law head off to buy a map while I look at the notebooks with pictures of ponies and the New Forest pencil sharpeners.

They emerge with a map that looks more like the Candyland board game than a cartographic expression of the New Forest. "It only cost a pound," they said. The real map cost £2, so I envisioned us lost and hungry in the forest, all for the want of 33 and 1/3 pence a piece.

But the Candyland map does have some useful advice:

• The animals and livestock roaming free in the forest belong to the Commoners of the New Forest. Visitors are advised not to molest them.
• Visitors must leave the New Forest before dusk.

...or what? What happens at dusk? Do the Commoners come out then (I imagine them in drab peasant costumes of home-spun wool and ill-shapen hats) waving torches and pitchforks accusing any outsider of molesting the animals? I resolve we will be out by dusk.

We arrive at the cycle hire place in Brockenhurst, it is full of gleaming beautiful bikes. We prepare to choose the bike of our dreams (I want a purple one), but are advised that we have to go down to the shed by the railway tracks to get our hire cycles. OK.

Well, the shed by the tracks doesn't have any gleaming bikes and no purple ones either. The Texan and I get grey bikes, and the Vol-in-Law gets a blue one that has clearly seen better days. In fact, it has a wobbly seat and improper handle grips. We have to change it for another one and are served by a young man who clearly missed the training session on customer service.

I'm a little nervous about this whole cycling thing. It's been a long time since I've ridden a bicycle, many years in fact. But it turns out that riding a bike is just like riding a bike, once you've learned you never forget. We set off.

The New Forest is really beautiful, and the weather was perfect. Blue October skies, cool and clear. (It did rain on us once.) The New Forest was originally a hunting preserve of the Norman Over Lords, so it's as close to Virgin wilderness as this country has. Of course, it isn't virgin wilderness, because there's no such thing here, all landscapes are managed and show the effect of man or grazing beast.

I didn't take many pictures because I was trying to stay on the bike and get my aching, tired muscles to push the pedal one more time. But you can follow this link to some great pictures of the landscape and scenery of the New Forest. There are lots of cute animals, that just wander free around the roads and moorlands. Donkeys, ponies and cows mostly. Many of these animals wear reflective collars so you don't hit them when they wander onto the road at night. These animals have no fear, and you can just amble right up to them. There was one great sign which I wished I'd photographed which warned of animals on the road, day and night, and potential animal deaths if vehicle and critter collide. That struck me as quintisentially British. I'd be more worried about the pony coming through my windshield killing all in the car, that's what would make me slow down.

The track we chose took us through forest and moorland. The Texan and the Vol-in-Law both love the open, sweeping vistas of the moorland. But I prefer cover. I love the old hardwood forest, the bracken and shrub.

Anyway, it was a good day, hard work, but a lovely outing. It was unmarred until we returned to London and were nearly run off the road by a French mini-van which pushed me out of my lane within a roundabout by threatening to ram our car and laying on the horn. We followed them for miles (coincidence, not menace) and ruminated about how Frenchie would never attempt such driving shenanigans in America - a well-armed society makes a polite society. We fantasised slashing his tires and other such vandalism. We finally lost him in the Wandsworth one-way system [the gyratory] which even Wandsworth residents find trying. Ha, ha. Frenchie's probably still circling the Wandsworth town hall in his mini-van trying to get out.