We woke up early, knowing that it was going to rain during the day and that Martina’s bicycle needed some attention from someone more qualified than myself. Indeed, it started raining at 7, and the rain didn’t seem to quiet down while we had our breakfast Quaker oats (we were a bit tired of having full breakfast every morning, and breakfast wasn’t included in the price of accommodation anyway).

I’ve made a couple of calls to local cycling shops trying to arrange the bicycle to be fixed. Apparently, Yatton is home to at least two mobile bike services, which operate along the Strawberry Line and get your bike fixed wherever you are. Unfortunately, one of them didn’t pick up the phone, and another one informed us they don’t do any work until 4 pm since the person running it also has another full-time job. A local shop with a name confusingly ending with ‘Motorcare’ said he’s got the whole week fully booked, but maybe he can spare about 10 minutes to have a look.

​​Time to use our waterproof clothes — Martina’s got both a jacket and some trousers she’s bought in the Netherlands, I decided to only wear a Peter Storm waterproof jacket. My cycling shorts immediately went wet, but actually they dried quickly as the rain stopped for a moment, so I decided not to use the trousers at all.

At the cycling shop, we were told there’s nothing wrong with the bike at all, because apparently the repairman couldn’t hear the rubbing noise — but after a bit back and forth he agreed to have a closer look, and then he found the screws holding the front disc brake weren’t tight enough.

I also bought another bell, since the Dutch-style one I brought from Slovakia and had on my bike broke when the bicycle fell on its side a day earlier, and a rear view mirror for Martina, as I supposed we were going to cycle on regular roads a lot — and I personally found the mirror I bought at Decathlon immensely useful. Martina’s mirror was a bit smaller, but on the other hand slightly easier to adjust than mine. I installed the mirror and the new bell during a coffee break in Yatton, and just as we were going to set off, it started raining again.

Soon we found that cycling in the rain wasn’t as difficult as it seemed, and we actually learnt to stop and either take off our rain jackets or put them back quickly as weather conditions changed.

At one point we were passing through a village, and I felt a new smell. At first, it seemed like the usual farm smell, but then I realised it were apples! Indeed, we were passing through apple tree gardens. They must make cider here, I thought. That was exactly it — it was the place where they made Thatcher’s!

Cycling on a mostly flat cycle path converted from a former railway line, we entered Axbridge, a beautiful little town, where we stopped for coffee, beer and a bit of sightseeing.

Immediately following Axbridge was Cheddar, a village famous for its strawberries and the cheese it gave a name to. At first, we quickly cycled through the village and didn’t notice any hint of the cheesemaking. Turned out, all of the touristy cheese stuff was a bit off the main road, towards Cheddar Gorge.

After getting our Cheddar cheddar, we headed towards Wells. The signed cycle path ends in Cheddar, so we had to make our way on our own. We’ve got a bit lost near the east end of Cheddar Canal, but managed to find our way out of Cheddar:

We continued through the outskirts of Draycott, Westbury-sub-Mendip and Wookey, with just a short stretch of the main road.

Dinner at a café opposite of St Cuthbert’s church in Wells, which a lot of tourists apparently mistake for Wells Cathedral.

Vicars’ Close, apparently the oldest residential street in Europe:

A short but enjoyable ride on the 26, and we’re in the centre of Glastonbury.

Our AirBnB, Raven Haven, was directly at High Street, so having checked in, we headed to a nearby pub, the George & Pilgrims, which some believe to be haunted.

Amidst the second beer, we realised we don’t have any accommodation booked for the next night, and we’ve got no idea how to proceed on our way to Yeovil or beyond. Having finished the beer, we headed back to our room, only to our horror to find out we cannot go to Weymouth as we originally planned as either the accommodation is unaffordable, or we’re going to ride up some really steep hills, or possibly both. Half past midnight, we called it a night, hoping that we figure out what to do in the morning.