R.I.P.

R.I.P. - Rest in Peace.  No, this is not to announce that I'm posting this from the great computer in the sky, on the contrary, I am safe and well and have survived more stretches on A-roads than I care to remember.  No, it is my untrusty little sat nav who is now resting in peace back at the Garmin factory where it came from.  Yes, I know we had a love-hate relationship but over the miles from Looe to Berwick on Tweed I had adapted considerably to its idiosyncrasies - it clearly was refusing to adapt to mine, so I was going to have to be the bigger person here.  And adapt I did and from Carlisle onwards we were jogging along together quite nicely; I was no longer fazed when the sat nav threw up a random instruction for a split second before correcting itself and carrying on as though nothing had happened; or when the screen froze after the last instruction I would calmly get out my iPhone and take a look at the maps there to get a rough idea of where I should be heading.  The sat nav had definitely developed a lot of quirks, sometimes it gave me the silent treatment so I either risked missing a turn or kept my eyes glued to it and risked riding off into a hedge or ditch but between us we were making our way around the coast and that's all that matters.

Well, truth to tell, it wasn't only between the sat nav and me - I had a lot (and I mean a lot) of phone calls from David bailing me out when I'd gone wrong or phoning simply to say "you don't seem to be moving, is there a problem?" which there invariably was.  Now, you might well be wondering how on earth David knows where I am at any given point or whether I've stopped or am belting down an A-road as fast as my little legs can carry me.  This is not a case of Big Brother is watching you, more a case of Big Husband is watching you - via a nifty app on his iPhone.

So, did I throw this sometimes frustrating but very necessary little machine into the sea in a fit of pique?  No, I was cycling into Southport on Tuesday evening when the screen went blank.  I assumed the battery had died but knowing I was nearly there I navigated the rest of the way with the iPhone, charged the battery overnight, turned it on the next morning to guide me through Liverpool, across the Wirral and into Flint in N Wales - and the screen flickered into life and promptly died on me :-(   I mourned its passing all day, especially as I had to go analogue and buy 3 different Landranger maps to get me the 60 miles (100 kms) from Southport to Flint and I still got very lost on the Wirral!

I say "I" but actually it was "we" because my brother, Jim, has come over from Germany where he lives to join me for the stretch from Morecambe to St David's - so, being without a sat nav and getting badly lost wasn't such a daunting experience as it would otherwise have been.  Jim has been a tower of strength, two heads are always better than one and it's very comforting simply to cycle in his slip stream.

So, there we were in Heswall, well gone five o'clock, with unscheduled B&B thoughts buzzing round our heads - where were you Jackie of Heswall? However, we finally made it to Flint having been on the road for the best part of 12 hours.

Tomorrow, Bangor, opposite Anglesey, here we come! Jim was last there as a student just under 40 years ago when he studied there: a trip up many a hill and down memory lane.