Day 4

Dear Diary...

Got our act together well this morning. Rob must be a good influence, or is it the arrival of the 'team manager' Terry?

We need to make a quick run down to North Shields to catch the ferry across the river. We make the ferry with four minutes to spare. A couple of locals stepped out in front of me in the town and I explained to them my displeasure in nearly knocking them over. As I sped on the rest of the group were entertained by the sparkling wit and repartee of this fine couple!

The sun is shining and we have a lovely passage. Cycling on in the sunshine we travel down the coast to Sunderland and across the bridge. We get really confused with signage but eventually find our way out of Sunderland city centre.

We picked up an old railway track and head uphill, and uphill...and uphill...eventually making the top and a great downhill which made up for the climb.

The mileage is wrong and we have to do more than planned....we are going to be late into Hartlepool for lunch. Trying to check the mileage on a signpost at speed I look up and have to brake suddenly for a gate and crash quite hard, grazing my knee and shoulder. I bounce up and claim to be OK but it really hurts and there's this horrible egg appeared on my elbow. I tough it out but that tumble will give me pain for the next couple of days.

Eventually we arrive in Hartlepool and we are VERY late. Phone calls to Smiley Miley (Terry) establish that we are not going to reach the Harbour of Rest, our planned stop, before they stop serving food.

Bless him, he's pleaded on our behalf, but they aint budging. We miss him in Hartlepool and arrive at the Harbour of Rest. We too try the silver tongue but it isn't going to work. Terry has found an alternative that does 'two for one' and serves all day. Great sausage and mash in a Yorkshire pudding!

I'm still in shock from my tumble, but the show rides on and I get over it.

It's cycle tracks through the industrial north of Middlesbrough which is far from inspiring. We circumnavigate a prison and through some rough housing estates. Good signposting and map reading get us through the tangle of roads and get us close before we switch on the GPS. We follow this blindly until the 'you have reached your destination' message.

Good old Florrie delivers us faultlessly to the doorstep of The Grey House Hotel, our booked overnight. An Edwardian property built in 1910, surrounded by attractive gardens, with trees, shrubs, conifers, rose and herbaceous borders, in the quiet residential area of Linthorpe, about 1˝ miles from the town centre.

We are all spellbound by the lovely Czech lady who greets us and makes us so welcome. Trev and I have a huge triple room to share.

We set off in search of somewhere to eat. An abortive visit to the recommended Yellow Rose, not serving food tonight because the chef had been to a funeral and taken the night off. We eventually found ourselves in an OK Chinese after seemingly walking miles through some very dodgy parts of the city.

In bed for 22.30 having agreed an early 8.30 start in the morning

Preparing for the days ride	Ready to go, now with 'added Rob'
On the ferry from North to South Shields	Jan gets an update from Ray

Interesting sculptures on the Sunderland riverfront
...it's high up here!	coffee break on the riverside
Trev gives it some welly!	Sign commemorating the great local cyclist Tommy Simpson
Dear Diary... Got our act together well this morning. Rob must be a good influence, or is it the arrival of the 'team manager' Terry? We need to make a quick run down to North Shields to catch the ferry across the river. We make the ferry with four minutes to spare. A couple of locals stepped out in front of me in the town and I explained to them my displeasure in nearly knocking them over. As I sped on the rest of the group were entertained by the sparkling wit and repartee of this fine couple! The sun is shining and we have a lovely passage. Cycling on in the sunshine we travel down the coast to Sunderland and across the bridge. We get really confused with signage but eventually find our way out of Sunderland city centre. We picked up an old railway track and head uphill, and uphill...and uphill...eventually making the top and a great downhill which made up for the climb. The mileage is wrong and we have to do more than planned....we are going to be late into Hartlepool for lunch. Trying to check the mileage on a signpost at speed I look up and have to brake suddenly for a gate and crash quite hard, grazing my knee and shoulder. I bounce up and claim to be OK but it really hurts and there's this horrible egg appeared on my elbow. I tough it out but that tumble will give me pain for the next couple of days. Eventually we arrive in Hartlepool and we are VERY late. Phone calls to Smiley Miley (Terry) establish that we are not going to reach the Harbour of Rest, our planned stop, before they stop serving food. Bless him, he's pleaded on our behalf, but they aint budging. We miss him in Hartlepool and arrive at the Harbour of Rest. We too try the silver tongue but it isn't going to work. Terry has found an alternative that does 'two for one' and serves all day. Great sausage and mash in a Yorkshire pudding! I'm still in shock from my tumble, but the show rides on and I get over it. It's cycle tracks through the industrial north of Middlesbrough which is far from inspiring. We circumnavigate a prison and through some rough housing estates. Good signposting and map reading get us through the tangle of roads and get us close before we switch on the GPS. We follow this blindly until the 'you have reached your destination' message. Good old Florrie delivers us faultlessly to the doorstep of The Grey House Hotel, our booked overnight. An Edwardian property built in 1910, surrounded by attractive gardens, with trees, shrubs, conifers, rose and herbaceous borders, in the quiet residential area of Linthorpe, about 1˝ miles from the town centre. We are all spellbound by the lovely Czech lady who greets us and makes us so welcome. Trev and I have a huge triple room to share. We set off in search of somewhere to eat. An abortive visit to the recommended Yellow Rose, not serving food tonight because the chef had been to a funeral and taken the night off. We eventually found ourselves in an OK Chinese after seemingly walking miles through some very dodgy parts of the city. In bed for 22.30 having agreed an early 8.30 start in the morning	The Grey House Hotel