Rain. It seems to be an integral part of an English summer. It is being particularly English summery in the wet sense this morning, so we linger over breakfast, and wait, hoping that the weather will clear.

Melbourne is a much more busy place in the morning, with people going about their business, taking children to school, and boarding buses to head to Derby. In Harpur’s a young couple are enjoying a champagne breakfast. It is her birthday. He drinks beer while eating his fruit and yoghurt; champagne is obviously not to his taste.

The rain dies down a little, and we load up the bikes and get moving. It is not a long day today, and we have a special destination tonight: an old abbey, in a park in the middle of apparent nowhere, just east of Coventry.

I have a bit of a caffeine addiction, but I am not a coffee drinker. My caffeine comes cold and with bubbles, and is generally not served at breakfast. I want a Coke. One with the sugar and caffeine and all the calories. We pass through village after village, with no sign of a shop. Maybe it is the Tesco influence, and all the little shops in villages have closed, so people must to drive to larger towns to shop. Imagine not being able to walk down to the local shop to buy a loaf of bread? Or not being able to buy a bubbly black soft drink when going through a caffeine crisis.

We find a post office/off licence in Ravenstone; caffeine crisis over.

Sometimes you can research the life out of the trip and sometimes you can come across happy surprises. Today is a happy surprise day. As we ride south, passing signposts for places with names like Barton in the Beans (seriously?) I start seeing signs for the Bosworth Battlefield.

Now, I’m no war geek, but I do have more than a passing interest in Tudor history, sparked by watching a movie about Henry VIII as a child, and fanned by the Plantagenet and Tudor novels by Philippa Gregory.  (Definitely also fuelled by watching Jonathan Rhys Meyers in the TV series The Tudors.) (And one day I will get through Wolf Hall. I will.)

I am not a great reader of history textbooks, but Philippa has taken me on an historical journey with her novels, all written from the viewpoint of female characters. She fictionalises the inner world of the women of the time, while maintaining historical accuracy. So it is through her books that I read about the battle at Bosworth Fields, and recognised this as a true turning point in history.

The Battle of Bosworth Field was the last significant battle of the Wars of the Roses, the struggle for the English throne between the Houses of York and Lancaster. This struggle raged for some 30 years, with the crown passing back and forth, and culminated in 1485, when Henry Tudor (Earl of Richmond, and later, Henry VII) defeated Richard III at Bosworth Field, thus starting the Tudor Dynasty.

After a quick map consultation, I find that with only a short detour, we can make a visit to the Bosworth Battlefield Visitor’s Centre which, while it may not lie on the exact site of the battle, is good enough for me. The centre has an exhibition (which we did not visit) and runs events throughout the year. I was happy to just take a walk, look around, and try to feel something of the place where a king and a challenger (or their armies) faced each other, and fought a significant battle, culminating in the death of Richard III and the very quick crowning of Henry Tudor as King Henry VII.

Richard III’s remains were discovered in 2012 under a car park in Leicester which was on the site of the former Greyfriars Friary Church. After extensive testing the University of Leicester concluded beyond reasonable doubt that the remains were indeed those of Richard III, and he was reburied, with great ceremony, in Leicester Cathedral in 2015. If I’d been on the ball, we may have had to make a detour to Leicester as well.

After that very satisfactory detour, we continue on toward Coombe Abbey. I am expecting a fairly unremarkable journey, but there is more excitement awaiting us.

Just south of Hinckley we encounter the mother of all roundabouts. It is the junction of the M5 and the M69, neither of which are roads we cyclists want to be anywhere near, but also has a smaller exit to Wolvey. That’s where we want to go.

Neil the daredevil launches himself into the roundabout and I have no option but to follow.  It is like riding a bike in a washing machine along and across three lanes of traffic. The cars and trucks are kind to us, letting us cross lanes while we try to find our way, but I feel like a sitting duck. We eventually wash out, almost back where we started, having missed our exit.

Not again. I am not heading into the traffic again. I point out the bike route, which travels around the outside of the roundabout. We dismount, and walk our way around. It takes longer, but we get around alive, and pedal off toward Wolverton.

Fortunately, that is the last adventure for the day. I am relieved when we arrive at Coombe Abbey.

This magnificent hotel has its own fair share of history, having been founded as an abbey in the 12th century, surrendered to King Henry VIII during the dissolution of the monasteries, and was even the home of Elizabeth Stuart, daughter of King James I (great-great-granddaughter of Margaret Tudor, Henry VIII’s sister), who was targeted to replace her father as Queen if Guy Fawkes’ attempt to blow up the king and his parliament in 1605 had succeeded.

These days, Coombe Abbey is a drawcard for travellers seeking a splendid bed, party-goers and the afternoon tea set. As we arrive in the late afternoon, people leave clutching paper parcels of goodies left over from their afternoon teas, and young medical students arrive for their graduation ball.

We retire to our room bedchamber to scrub up for dinner, and enjoy a beer in the garden bar before taking our place in the garden restaurant for dinner. I am overwhelmed with vegetarian choice for dinner, and settle for asparagus followed by twice-baked smoked applewood soufflé. The UK so far has provided great vegetarian dining, a long way from the fried cheese of central and eastern Europe.

After dinner we stroll around the grounds, mixing it with the very cheerful medical students, whose function is well underway by now. The abbey is an extremely pleasant place to unwind after a long ride through history.

Stats for the day

• Distance: 61km
• Moving time: 3:33:57
• Average speed: 17.1km/h
• Climb: 531m
• Average temperature: 19C
• See our route on Strava.