Dear Readers, it was the esteemed
Mr Warnock of Syston in the county of Leicester that alerted me to the possibility of writing a blog post about cycling. He posts on little else, I should alert my readers, and there is precious little on other exciting and manly subjects such as barcodes or amortisation. Still, you can't have everything.
It is a little-known fact, except possibly in the town itself, that Syston is the home of the Pukka Pie. And it was my great delight this week to undertake the journey from Husborne Crawley to Syston, to visit the factory. Now I know some people who think, "that Burton Dasset – typical accountant. No imagination, no interests beyond counting beans and writing down train numbers". Well, I can tell you this is sadly to underestimate me. Yes, I do like counting things. And I have a fine collection of train numbers. But beyond that, I have a passionate interest in the visiting of Pie factories. Well I remember that day when I stood sadly outside the Saxby’s factory in Wellingborough, on the day before they started pulling it down to build a housing estate.
But this week was a time of happiness. I was planning to drive up to Syston, take a few snaps of the Pukka Pies factory, and then come home. When Eileen suggested to me that I might want to go on the train, and check out the cycling conditions in Leicester.
So what more encouragement could I need? I put on my trendy cycling Plus 4s and hi-viz Pac-a-mac, mounted my 15 year old Giant hybrid (steel construction – I find it so much more sturdy) and headed for Ridgmont station, thence to Bedford for the mainline.
I had a few issues with the journey to Syston. I had placed my cycle in the area at the back of the train – what fun I had, trying to guess which end of the train the cycling carriage was. It transpires that it is at the opposite end to First Class, presumably on the grounds that if you can afford First Class you can afford a taxi to the station. The train (a 222 Meridian in 5-car configuration, as you will be enthralled to hear), seating at a rough guess 250 or so people, was adequately equipped with space for four cycles. There were eight cyclists on the train – so what laughs we had as we all tried to remove them at Leicester!
Syston has its own station, on the "Ivanhoe Line". And I won't pretend that I wasn't tempted to add to my collection of branch lines visited straight away. However I knew I could delay that delight until the journey back, and it was my dearest ambition, Dear Readers, to essay the famous Melton Road. And so, in a fit of optimism and a light drizzle, I set off.
It would be too easy for me to detail every inch of the path, dear readers. From Charles St through Belgrave Road and thus onto the main Melton Road. Too easy, but the joy of the 300 photos I took en route might over-gladden your hearts. So let me restrict myself to a few passing comments.
The first is that Leicester is beyond doubt, as it claims, a
Cycle City. Indeed, so keen are they on cycle paths that the Melton Road has no less than six or seven. And, wonder of wonders, some are on the road, some on shared parts of pavement, some in their own separate areas! Some just stop dead when you least expect it, and some (such as the bridge over the Newark Road into Syston itself) drop you straight into the road. What variety and excitement they have planned for the Leicester cyclists!
So much do they love cycle paths that some are only ten yards long - how keen they must be! What sorrow they must feel for the miles in between, when there is a stretch of road with no cycle paths - and "keep left" signs down the middle of the road that make it difficult for lorries to overtake cycles. Although, to give the lorry (and bus) drivers their due, they overtake anyway.
And then there is the physical and spiritual stimulation that they provide to cyclists towards Thurmaston! Not for cyclists the smooth, even-rolling road that the cars have to struggle with. Oh no. Our cycle path is made up of concrete slabs - lifted up by the roots of the shadowing trees. Indeeed, so uplifted is one of the slabs of concrete that from the top you can see 4 counties. It is rumoured to be the highest point in the City of Leicester. But the great advantage of this uncertain surface is that one is kept constantly alert, while the regular shaking enables cyclists to build up their upper-body strength. And should you catch an uplifted slab at the wrong angle, then the Feast of India buffet restaurant is beautifully placed for you to eat a snack while you await the ambulance - should your injuries be such that you are still able to drag yourself across four lanes of traffic .
And then on the Troon Way junction, the traffic comes from so many different directions that, without the provision of pedestrian or cycle crossing lights, one finds oneself much deeper in prayer than is normal on a cycle ride. Indeed, one moment of inattention and one might find oneself much closer to one's Creator than was planned.
And so I found my way to Syston. Of Pukka Pies itself I need say little. For what more enjoyment is there in life, Dear Readers, than to see a pie factory gently steaming in the late-winter sunlight? And of my journey home, I believe the Archdruid has already written. Locked accidentally in the cycle storage section of the train, I eventually escaped at St Pancras. And while the journey home was arduous - especially given my accidental orbit of the M25 - Eileen was so kind, and allowed me to go to bed just as soon as I had finished the month-end calculations for January.
