Like most trips I found myself passing through some wonderful fenland countryside, those long straight drains that seem to stretch for mile after mile and of course the water meadows that ease the risk of flooding every winter and all lit by the low morning sun. Heading along "Hundred Foot Bank" which follows the "New Bedford River" was as ever a feast of virgin sights for me, one such sight was a stunning old pumping station with some really interesting stone plaques upon it's wall.
Uncovering these small hidden treasures of fen history is fast becoming a great pleasure for me and the miles seem to pass with far less effort. It was soon after passing this old station that I noticed the great sight of bulrushes, without fail seeing these reeds always brings memories of my mum flooding back, she used them in many autumn flower arrangements, sometimes in high glass vase with dried seed heads, willow and thistles and at times just alone in bunches. I remember watching her cut the stems to length and the way the bulrush heads (pokers as we kids called them), would over the weeks start to turn into fluff as if shedding their skin.
So into the small village of Pymoor I rode, very quiet little parish, I never saw a soul walking the streets, I guess the lack of shops etc is gradually turning these small settlements into "commuter villages" rather than the once self-sufficient communities of the Victorian and Edwardian periods.
All in all a very enjoyable trip and yet another small fen village crossed off my list, now trying to decide where to go next but until then the same 20 mile cycle each morning.
