A ride around some rather nice Kent lanes with a simple pub lunch planned at a rather hidden pub with great beer and cider from the barrel. Lunch stop is over half way through the 33 mile ride so bring the odd snack if you like to keep you going up the odd hill. 

Pace decidedly moderate – I’ll just be pushing to ensure that we get to the pub by 1pm. If we get there particularly early, hey, more cider. 

Mumsy advice – bring a decent lock which you are happy to entrust your bike to as we will have to lock the bikes outside to each other while we sit inside by the wood-burning stove. Check your brakes as there is one very steep downhill. Bring warm layers – it can be far colder in Kent than balmy Lewisham. 

Bring lights of course. 

Ride suitable for any bike. 

Total distance about 33 miles. 

Meet ticket office at Catford railway station at 8:40 for the 9:02 train to Otford – arrive early to maximise your chances of a Groupsave discount – tickets can be suprisngly cheap from here. 

NB: NOT Catford Bridge. Catford is the one of the two side-by-side stations closest to Forest Hill, just opposite the Halfords in the retail park. To get there, head round the South Circular or go straight down the Waterlink Way. Check it out on old London Cycling map 15 or numbers 10 or 11 of new ones

 More info from Paul: 07957 209322 – NO TEXTS - I love your voice 

A Lewisham Cyclists/LCC ride

Report

 Concerns about meeting at Catford vanished when I found nine there – those of us who got into a Groupsave got a return fare out to Otford for £2.85 – an almost bizarrely unBritish bargain. At this rate, I’ll have to stop dragging folk over the North Downs.

 Andrew joined us at Bromley South and William at Otford, making a round 12 (don’t forget me).

 At Otford I did my good-turn for the week, maybe year, by pumping up Katie’s tyres. After sorting this I found that Andrij had left his bag on the train, complete with door keys, though he seemed kind of relaxed about starting the ride and sorting it later. A quick call and it turned out that the folks down the line at Sevenoaks had found it and would hold it until he went there, so with that sorted we set off.

 Pilgrim’s Way, round the back of Knole Park, down the fearsome hill to Underriver with folk suitably cautioned to brake and take it slowly. Cars come up the hill in the middle of the road because it is so narrow and if you have to brake suddenly on the debris-laden surface there is a real chance you will lose it. We all got down, paused for a breather near the White Hart - fondly remembered by some for my great wheeze of a while ago – "let’s fly down one of southern England’s worst cycling hills, have lunch, drink two pints, then risk throwing it all up by going back up" – must do it again sometime.

 Tootled through lots of nice lanes, hit Leigh, the village that socks built apparently. Tact prevents me referring to Jane’s particular knowledge of the family behind the sock fortune but suffice it to say that they built large numbers of cottages/houses with distinctively patterned brickwork and then went on to repeat the motif on their rather impressive much-turreted Victorian stately home complete with landscaped lake.

 Folk were invited to follow to have a look at the family’s old pile, now private flats, but only myself, Alan and Andrij braved the free roaming lions to take a peek. I was surprised and not a little disappointed– always seemed to me that one of the wonders of cycling is that you can be a kid again and go places maybe strictly you shouldn’t be – you don’t look threatening on a bike and of course you can always pedal away from trouble. And besides we’re such nice folk.

 We rejoined the rest of the group on the road and set off for more meandering. Down to Penshurst, up the great traffic-free path that opens up a fine view of the house, back somewhat perversely, though briefly, through Leigh, paused at Ightham Mote moated (not a spelling error) manor house to take a quick free look, then off to lunch – liquid and solid. Rounded a bend and the Golding Hop appeared magically out of a haze of perfumed wood smoke. Doesn’t look like your average pub – in fact it very much isn’t, and it’s very easy to go straight past. Doubtless delightful outside in summer and if the weather’s foul outside, a great reason to cosy up inside by the stove and let the cider give you a summery glow.

 Hadn’t expected 12 on the ride so we were a bit nervous that the landlord, who very much runs his pub his way (one of its strange delights in a plastic “have a nice day” world of ersatz service and concern) might not be too keen to accommodate us and our food demands so me and Jane went in to check things out before we all got settled. Bit of teeth sucking but we were in. Just as well we’d got there earlyish as although I was pretty sure our reccie visit had established that food was served until 2 on Saturdays we were told last orders were at 1:30. Good simple food, perfect for cycling –  and the beer was all from barrels. Including Thwaites, drunk like water in home town of Clitheroe, and in fact some would say it was suspiciously similar. But then that allowed me to join the others on the 7.3 per cent cider.

 I was in no hurry to leave but needs must. We will return. Next time we’ll phone ahead to Eddie and Sonya with numbers.

 Filled water bottles at the adjacent spring (tasted great – no ill effects so far) then, wahay, a post-lunch hill.

 More lanes, got slightly lost trying to find the route I’d missed on the reccie and in the process missed Alan’s favourite primal Kent bit – we’ll do it next time. Onto the Pilgrims Way at Wrotham, back to Otford in daylight – Andrij trained it down to Sevenoaks to retrieve his bag, some took the Victoria fast train and the rest followed on the train to Catford. Trevor and Andrew enticed Katie into visiting another pub, blaming each other for wimping out of taking the obvious by-bike route over the hill to Eynsford and instead waiting for the train. If you like pubs, I can recommend the Bromley Cyclists rides.

 Good ride, great pub, good company – usual wide-ranging conversation on the move and over beers. The things you learn. The anectode about the pit pony definitely can’t be repeated.

 I intend to return this way soon – love those lanes and I’m determined to enjoy the Golding Hop while it lasts in its unspoilt state. Go elsewhere for “have a nice day”. In the Golding Hop you can just have one.

 Thanks to Jane and Alan for helping me reccie this ride (Jurek was there in spirit) and to everyone for coming. Twelve in the depths of winter. Great.

 Paul