C2C #3: Ripon to Hornsea (117mi)

Sad to leave our new favourite campsite, we had no choice if we wanted to arrive at our destination before sunset. This will be our longest day of the trip, with 117 miles to cover. Fortunately for us, it is also the flattest with very few hills thrown in between Ripon and Hornsea.

A short stint on the bikes had us in the centre of Ripon, where we found a nice café to have us some breakfast. Okay, okay, we each had a full English, but don't judge us. Once we hit the road again, we were soon passing through some really beautiful scenery. Some of the villages were likes nothing I've ever seen before. They were the kind where, if you won the lottery, you'd want to live there. Very nice indeed.

The worst surface we had to ride on, but stunning views

We managed the entire journey with only a couple of drops of rain - quite literally; the rest of the day remained quite pleasant. Once on the other side of Driffield, we knew we only had 20 or so miles to reach the official end point of the Way of the Roses route and boy did those 20 miles drag out. As we approached the coast heading directly east, each peak of each climb had us thinking it would be the last before the final descent down to sea level. How wrong we were. The undulations just kept coming and coming and it honestly felt like we'd never arrive. But of course we did, and it felt awesome. After a well deserved ice cream on the promenade at Bridlington, we made the final 15 miles to our back-garden accommodation for the night. Hoorah - we've done it! Just got to get ourselves back home now.

Om nom nom...

A genuine smile this time!

C2C #2: Morecambe to Ripon (87mi)

We awoke early this morning to relative silence, meaning the rain had at least temporarily ceased. As there's no rest for the wicked, we immediately began our preparations for the day. I make no exaggeration when I say the moment (and I meant the moment!) we began dismantling the tent, the rain returned with a vengeance and consequently everything got wet through. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

Crack a smile, mate...

Morale was low

Breakfast provided temporary shelter from the typically British weather, though we knew we'd have to step back out into it sooner or later. Neither of us were expecting precipitation for the duration of the trip, so we made the decision, as we sat there in our shorts and short-sleeve jerseys, to find the nearest local bike shop and buy some more appropriate attire.

The moment we stepped back out of the shop donning our waterproofs, the rain bloody stopped. You just can't make it up. At least the forecast suggested the misery would soon end and true to its word, that's exactly what happened. As the day advance and we pedalled ourselves closer to our destination for the day (Ripon), the blanket of white above us gradually dissipated to show the lovely ocean of blue, back from a two-day holiday.

Our suffering had paid off

After being rather underwhelmed by the campsite in Morecambe, we had completely the opposite reaction in Ripon. The sun was out to say hello. The campsite was situated in the middle of the countryside down a quiet country lane, away from any traffic noise and to top it all off, bunnies were hopping around the entrance to the site. The staff were pleasant and the facilities well maintained. Imagine the smiles on our faces as we pitched the tent next to the river Ure. The day couldn't have ended on a better note.

The campsite: Sleningford Watermill