DAY 3 - Okehampton to Wellington

We retrieve our bikes from a locked shed near the railway line and head off towards Exeter criss crossing the busy A30 through Stcklepath, Whiddon Down with Dartmoor still to our right. At Cheriton Bishop we stop for coffee and one of our dwindling supply of energy bars. Simon suggests we "might get bored biking every day for the next two & a half weeks".  I remind him once again that it was his idea that it was all for a good cause and what better way to kick off his retirement.

Lovely ride downhill into Exeter, an historic University town but very difficult to navigate through on bikes. We stop at an ATM near some shops for a sandwich and seemed surrounded by pastie eating pensioners.
There are differences of opinion on the way north out of town and we strike a number of one way streets. Is this the start of the blind leading the blind ( see pic below). Simon kept wanting to turn right towards the sea...thank goodness for the GPS on the i-phone!

We had  no accommodation booked for the night in and around Wellington and nominally had in mind to stay at Hangeridge Farm south of town.  Sadly they were fully booked so we headed into town to the bike shop before they closed at 5:30 as Simon's gears were playing up again. Very helpful owner Dennis King who convinced Simon that it was just his imagination.  We find our hotel just around the corner. Today has been around 56 miles

Simon Sez,

A breezy, windy day with showers. The first proper rain. Ok for cycling. Got lost in Exeter partly due to John’s questionable sense of direction.  But I found two sausage rolls for £1.

Hilly but after Dartmoor one could cope. Lunch at the Red Lion, Broadclyst. Spent far too long on the dreaded A38 but finally made it into Wellington, 53.6 miles - although John will have it differently (ie slightly wrong).  Excellent pint of Doomsday at The Barlow Mow. Accommodation at the The Blue Mantle was tight, just room for two beds, shower & loo with 3 inches in between.  Spotlessly clean and a very pleasant landlady with a Chaucerian nose.

I look forward to the plains of Somerset where the hills are flat.

I could murder a cigar