Richmond to York: a history lesson and a traffic jam

July 15, 2017 margie Comments 0 Comment

I’ve been to a few Richmonds in my time. There’s Richmond (Victoria, Australia), where I live. There’s Richmond (Virginia, USA), Richmond (Vancouver Canada), Richmond (Tasmania, Australia), RIchmond-upon-Thames (London, UK) and now, Richmond, (York, UK) the mother of all Richmonds.

The name Richmond actually comes from the French town of Richemont in Normandy; the town was founded in 1071 when William the Conqueror gifted land to a friend. The Earl of Richmond (Henry VII) took the name to London when he renamed Sheen to Richmond in the 16th century at the time he built Richmond Palace, and from there it spread across the world. There are at least 57 Richmonds worldwide. The name has also been applied to an Australian Rules football team, beloved by my nearest and dearest.

The area is home to many well known and well-to-do, including Ian Botham, former English cricketer and now Chairman of Durham, and Lord David Dundas, famous for the 1977 hit (I pull my blue) Jeans On, who is a member of one of the wealthiest families around Richmond.

This Richmond does not seem keen for us to leave, as it throws up huge hill obstacles on our way out – with grades reaching upward of 15%. I walk. Walking is quite nice, unless you are pushing a loaded barge. However, I know that once we hit the final high point leaving Richmond, it is essentially downhill to York.

Today it is raining a little. We wait out most of the rain over coffee and chocolate in Mocha, a lovely little chocolate shop in town, where several of the customers took the time to chat ad offer trip advice.

Everybody wants to talk to us. I leave Neil by the bikes for a few minutes, and he meets an Irish cyclist first, then an older man who just stops for a chat.

I think that people always want to talk to us when they see us with our bikes, but it is only on this trip, where we speak the language, we are able to actually engage in conversation. It is lovely. Everybody wants to give us a hint or a tip about where to go and what to do. Or just to make a passing comment about he weather.

The same happens when we are stopped for a lunch break in Bedale when a fellow cyclist takes time from his young family to have a chat. It’s a bit like going shopping in the country back home in Victoria where you have to allow extra time just to talk to people.

Our route today takes us on a road that runs alongside the busy A1. We arrive at the roundabout that turns us onto that road only to be met by “Road Closed” signs and workers barring the way. If you’ve ever ridden a bike long distance, and know how painstaking route planning can be, and how much a detour can take out of your day (not to mention your legs), you will understand the sinking feeling we both had as we pulled up.

“I’ll let you through on your bikes,” says the worker, after turning around a car and sending it away. “As long as you keep to the left and ride carefully.” We promise faithfully to do exactly that, When we reach the other end a worker approaches us “The road is closed for your safety and the safety of the workers.” Too bad, too sad. Nothing is stopping us from going through now.

Some way further along we cross the A1 and head into quieter country roads. We are still around 40km from York, but the riding is easy, and there are few cars. Until … we cross another main highway (assuming it is the A1 again, but it turns out to be the A61) where traffic in one direction is at a complete standstill, with people even out of their cars and chatting. Feeling smug, we roll along until there are suddenly many cars passing us by. And not the friendly wait-behind-us-till-safe type of cars. They are more like the BMW and Audi cars that rush by, leaving litttle space. A few cars stop and drivers ask us for directions, as their GPS devices only know how to get places via the A1.

bikes resting in yorkshire — Bikes resting in Yorkshire

Once we leave the stream of cars behind – well, the stream of cars turns off our quiet country road – we roll along happily until we reach more busy roads on the outskirts of York. We do manage to come quite a way without even seeing the city or heavy traffic, but of course the last five or so kilometres is in busy traffic. We are operating on one Garmin, as mine lost its brain some way back, so I follow Neil as he navigates to our apartment.

We are in a pub area, and it is busy on a Saturday night, with a steady parade of bucks’ parties and well dressed racegoers (I have to say the women look a lot more well dressed and refined than women heading home from a day at Flemington!). We are in an apartment inside the town walls, and easily find pubs and restaurants within walking distance. We do a bit of a turn around town, down a beer, and scoff some Italian food, grateful to be somewhere again where you can get food after 8pm.