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I've written an account of my cycle on Saturday 9 September which I hope you enjoy!

I set off later than I meant but managed to touch base at the home church by 9.50am before the heat of the day set in. Rhodri had wanted to come with me but had to work as clients were arriving from India and wanted to meet him on Sunday.

We were on the edge of the thunderstorm warning area and I reckoned my cycling jacket and a church porch would see me through any brief downpours – if they happened. On to St Johns in Harpenden, very welcoming with lots of tempting homemade cake on offer but I managed to resist and pushed on to Wheathampstead. I signed in at the back of their pretty church with a lovely Saxon Spire - there were around 20 people having coffee in the chancel.

Then on uphill via the lovely well shaded Ayot Greenway to Ayot St Peter. As usual the church was decorated with flowers and fruit. The church itself is the most exquisite and ornate high Victorian church I have ever seen. The Rector of 1870 onwards was a mover and shaker. After the original church was destroyed by lightning and fire he connected with everyone he knew (he was well connected with wealth in Liverpool) to raise funds for the new church. The 1874 building project was well conceived. Home made jam for sale too, the bells rang - twinkle, twinkle little star sounded as I made my way up the increasingly warm road. Lots of people visiting from far and wide and lots of excited chatter and a great welcome. I drank from my water store – two bottles on my bicycle. 

On to St Giles, Codicote. Down to the Mimran Valley whizzing in the cooling breeze and then up the hill, slowly, warm work!

St Giles is in Bury Lane on the edge of the old market town – markets permitted since 1279 it says on their town sign. I think the church was built in years when the plague carried fear and burial sites and churches were put at the edge of the town. I was offered water and downed two glasses easily. I happily chatted to the welcomers. They told me it was lovely to have their church open, but normally it wasn’t. A few years ago, in broad daylight the church cleaner saw an unfamiliar van leave. It turned out to have taken half of the church central heating pipes. Water was running over the church floor from what remained. Sadly, they cannot leave the church open unattended.

Onwards from Codicote via Nup End (with one wrong turning adding two miles in the heat of the day) to Old Knebworth, St Mary’s church. The shade of the church yard was most welcome. The welcomers were handing over and I renewed my acquaintance with an 80 year old lady who learned to swim to help her knees work last year. The cyclamen in the churchyard was a pretty sight.

Then downhill to Knebworth. The butcher deli beckoned. I had skipped breakfast and needed to fill my fuel tank. Pork pie and quiche with the saltiest bacon ever (just what I wanted) together with a takeaway coffee were eagerly consumed.

Then down the busy high street to St Martins in Knebworth – a Lutyens Church and nearly modern, sadly not open, or manned. I dived into Swangleys Lane from the church yard avoiding as much of the unshaded tarmac as possible. 33 degrees and the tarmac radiated the heat. I went along a back route uphill to All Saints Datchworth. This church is old and stands out on high ground with views for miles around. I was welcomed and shown round the church. A tapestry shows the Rectors going back to around 1200. The gaps are poignant – one around 1536, the reformation and then again around 1650 the tapestry reads ‘(sequestrated)’ and then a gap until 1663. A momentous time with Charles the second on the throne and the new Book of Common Prayer emerging in 1661. The church did not lose its beauty and has some wonderful new stained glass too. I was invited to use the facilities in the hall. I was relieved that their and my waterworks were on good form. I was not dehydrated. I splashed water all over my head and shirt to introduce cool. I then cycled out of Datchworth to a great long offroad track in the woods, all in deep shade with a gentle downhill gradient. The shade from the tall trees was glorious. The silence beautiful – I met no-one over several miles. I emerged onto Queen Hoo Lane – it felt an exciting place to be with a big old Tudor house and more glorious shade, then onto another track into Tewin. The ladies at Tewin were most welcoming with a cup of tea and a glass of water – though I realised after I had taken it that this was intended for someone else!

The welcomers were showing others around the church as I sipped tea on the welcoming bench. I welcomed them and offered to find the welcomers. It turned out that one of the cyclists was rector of Tewin and didn’t need my help or welcome. I met them again at St Mary’s Welwyn. More water consumed to the sound of organ music. I took a wrong turning out of Welwyn and arrived on the edge of Codicote. I dived down on the St Albans road (familiar but now a downhill run) crossed the Kimpton road and up to Ayot St Lawrence. No churches to visit now as it’s 5.30pm. More liquid consumed and then down to Marford. A swim in the river was tempting. Up the slope to Ceasar’s Dyke where the Romans defeated the Icaeni. The sense of history and how long the land around us has been cultivated, enjoyed and fought over struck. Here I am enjoying it now, just a speck in the time and place.

I sent a message home in case anyone was worrying about me in the heat.

My return to civilisation a traffic jam on the other side of the road from me between the roundabouts at Southdown. The radiant heat and fumes from the stopped cars with engines running affronted me. Climate change, we do need to change! Bicycles are great!

Home by 6.30pm another large cup of tea and then a tepid/cool bath. I found the energy to cook supper and dance the hornpipe - a sing along to the last night of the Proms.

I slept soundly after a long happy day. Thank you all for your donations. If you still want to give – please do.