Today was the last day of my sixteenth Cardinal Spin from home out of sixteen, and so you might think it would be cause for celebration. That, however, would be premature. I have set off from home sixteen times, but have yet to reach the end of one other ride, heading NE, due to the inclement nature of the weather beyond Fort William. So today would be a finish of sorts, but not the ultimate end-of-adventure climax. That still lay ahead, and in the lap of the Scottish weather gods.
And speaking of weather, this morning was a distinctly greyer and drabber affair than that to which I had become accustomed of late. My friend the sun was nowhere to be seen, and there was no guarantee of a rain-free day. But things got going in a dry, dank fashion and – given my recent run of luck – I thought it best not to complain.
For the first few miles I was retracing my steps from yesterday’s upward bend in my late afternoon progress, but I hit my straight line back near the edge of Horsham and from there onwards until the coast, it was a series of quiet Sussex lanes and tiny villages. It was all most agreeable and, for the most part, pretty gentle stuff. I knew that the South Downs lay between me and the sea at Worthing, and also that the only route directly into town was a dual carriageway, which held no attraction. For that reason I had already decided to take the quieter, cycle-friendly approach a little to the coast a little to the east at Shoreham, and from there head west along the excellent sea front cycle path to Worthing.
This SSE line has turned out to contain quite a collection of enforced deviations, despite my best efforts to keep it straight; but such is the nature of the landscape and the real world. The Romans may have enjoyed moving about in straight lines. My attempt to do the same in sixteen directions had come a close as made sense under my rules, which – after all – include the important requirement to keep it fun. At a granular level, my progress has been deviant; but I remain confident that when the whole thing is viewed from afar, upon completion, there will be an unmistakeable compass-like shape to it.
The dull morning was given personality bŷ the autumn colours of the heathy landscape, while the small villages were given personality by their enticing pubs. It was good cycling country and I had time to enjoy it. A small highlight came in the form of a windmill, complete with old sails, standing in private land in the quiet backwater of Shipley village. It looked like it was built entirely of wood, the octagonal sides and four sails painted white. All of that structure stood on a lower wooden platform, painted black and surrounded by a fenced walkway. There was nothing touristy about it. No signs or gift shops. Shipley wasn’t that sort of place.
Old Barn Garden Centre was, though! I found my chance for a tea and pasty stop there a couple of miles further up the road, where I bisected a very busy main road with some difficulty. A good portion of the traffic seemed to be heading for the same large car park of a garden centre on a quite unnecessarily large scale. It was a trek through the buildings even to reach the coffee shop. When I got there, I was further delayed by the man in front of me paying with a fifty pound note. This threw the lady on the till who went away to find her boss. It took a while but they accepted it. So by the time I got moving again, I was feeling the presence of a deadline. My train to London couldn’t be missed or I wouldn’t make the ride across town to Kings Cross in time for my connection home.
Tucked in the shadow of the South Downs is the very pretty old town of Steyning where on a different day I might have lingered and perhaps lunched. But after a few photos of its delightful ancient buildings, I pushed on. The tops of the Downs were shrouded in cloud as I followed a lane along the valley of the River Adur through a breach in the hills to Shoreham-by-Sea.
As I neared the main A27, a strange building briefly caught my eye in the foothills to my right. I thought I was seeing things. It looked like a very tall, gothic cathedral – a bit like Cologne without its spires – but seemed quite out of place here. For a moment I imagined I was in a film set, so unexpected was this sight. But signs soon told me that I was looking up at Lancing College Chapel, which dominated the campus of this prestigious private school. Construction of the chapel began in 1863 and was not considered complete until 2022, although the main portion of this soaring, buttressed structure was completed in 1911. It contains the largest rose window built since the Middle Ages. It has claims to be the largest school chapel in the world. I didn’t get very close, but I wouldn’t argue with that from the impression it left on me. It is open to the public for viewing and I feel compelled to return. Unfortunately, it was around this time that light rain began to fall and so a detour felt like the wrong thing.
I made it as far as Shoreham by crossing an old wooden bridge over the Adur and then the drizzle turned to proper wet rain. I sat it out under cover for five minutes until it eased, making good use of the lych gate of the old cruciform (and partly Saxon) St Nicolas church, but I didn’t feel I had time to wait any longer. The rain did stop as I made my way along the five miles of cycle path that ran alongside the shingle and the unbroken line of beach huts – really just brightly painted sea-front sheds. I had enjoyed this ride once before, in fading light in November 2022, as I cycled with Jon (of Ordnance Survey) from Southampton to Brighton in unseasonably summery weather.
Worthing Pier, my finish point, was visible from a couple of miles away, and as I closed in on it, things got more built up. The pier is a proper Victorian extravaganza, started in 1861 and the thirteenth such structure to be built around the coast of England. It has a colourful history that includes elements being blown down, washed away and burnt down. Part of the decking was even deliberately blown up in the face of possible invasion in 1940. It later became a recreation centre for troops from 1942. It is still very much in use and forms a centre piece to the promenade, and a definite end to my SSE line today!
And so to Scotland. Again.
