How has Covid changed our country? I'm cycling 1,600 miles across Britain to find out
For the next five weeks, travel writer Simon Parker is cycling the length of Britain, from the tip of Shetland to the Isles of Scilly
As the autumnal deluge clattered into my garage roof and washed a torrent of soggy leaves towards my sleeping bag, I placed another pair of (20g) socks onto the kitchen scales.
“If I take three fewer pairs,” I thought, “I might be able to free up 60 grams to put towards Bill Bryson’s new (400g) paperback? Or – maybe – I’ll lose the (150g) travel towel and (60g) roll-on deodorant, and take the (300g) percolator instead?”
Packing for a 1,600-mile bike ride, from the northernmost point of Shetland to the southernmost point of the Scilly isles, I was determined to be ready for any eventuality, while carrying the fewest possible kilos. “I’ll stink,” I mumbled. “But proper coffee, when I’m in the middle of nowhere, is essential.”
The idea is simple – at least on paper. I’ll set off from the very top of Unst, in sight of the Muckle Flugga Lighthouse. From there, I’ll head south; at first cycling the length of Shetland and Orkney, wild camping on remote beaches, and meeting some of Britain’s furthest-flung fishermen, farmers and creative souls. All at a safe distance, of course.
From there, I’ll round the Old Man of Hoy, hop over to the Scottish mainland at Scrabster, and navigate the north coast of Scotland – all the way to Cape Wrath.
I’ll pedal down through Skye and into Cumbria’s Lake District, before avoiding local lockdowns in the northwest of England.
I’ll also have to give Wales a wide berth, too, sadly. Because “people should not enter or leave the area to compete or participate in sport,” according to British Cycling. “Nor cycle across a boundary unless it is an essential journey, such as a commute.”
I can’t help but think this is a tad over-zealous. But I have to respect the rules at a difficult time, and hopefully it’s not too long before I’m riding the Welsh Coast Path, or cruising through the Brecon Beacons.
Finally, I’ll turn into the home stretch just south of Bristol and zigzag towards Land’s End – passing through Somerset, Devon and Cornwall – before enjoying a victory lap around the Scilly Isles. 1,600 miles or so, I think – about twice the distance of a standard “LEJOG” or “JOGLE” – averaging about 60 miles a day.
This isn’t a city sprint, but a rural marathon. I’ll camp in epic locations where possible, but also meet some of Britain’s struggling hoteliers, reeling from a short summer season and preparing for more uncertainty this winter.
I’ve cycled long-distance and unsupported all over the planet, and despite the inherent hardships of aching limbs and the occasional soggy night in a tent or dodgy motel, I’m hooked by the spontaneity of it all. While moving at the gentle speed of a heavily loaded touring bike – sometimes as slow as 4mph, into a gale, up a hill – life is reduced to a soft, contemplative pace.
I’ve slept in the pool house of tech billionaires in Idaho, and pitched my tent in the back yard of a Lutheran pastor in Michigan. I’ve kipped in a bivvy bag on the floor of a YMCA in Ohio and been taken in by evangelist Christians on a ranch in rural Montana.
But right now, I wonder how I’ll be received in these cagey times, on home soil? Will a wrapped-up, sweaty stranger on a bicycle be a figure of microbial suspicion? Or will I be welcomed with a well-sanitised handshake? I suspect I’ll see every extreme on Covid-19’s spectrum, ranging from indifference to crippling paranoia.
Has the social and economic impact of coronavirus spread to every nook and cranny of the nation? Or have some bucolic corners bumbled through with little or no change?
But most of all, this trip is about reviving the spirit of adventure I feel I’ve been robbed of in recent months. I’m sick of fretting about all the things we’ve had taken away from us, and eager to discover all those landscapes, experiences and characters that we still have in abundance.
I’ve almost certainly packed too much – I always do. But if you see me on the roadside brewing up a cup of coffee with my 300-gram percolator, please do stop and say hi. I just apologise in advance for my fruity odour. All the more reason to stay at a safe distance.
We’ll be publishing regular articles and short films from Simon’s journey as he cycles the length of Britain. You can also follow his adventure in real time via Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. Search for the hash tag #BritainByBike.
