Things went wrong for Eliot this weekend. Just after leaving Avonwick he was stung on the tongue by a bee (Michael said he shouldn't talk so much). Then at Plymouth youth hostel he burnt his first piece of toast and dropped the second piece on the floor.

Eliot's bad luck continued today: while descending the rough track near the Monkey Sanctuary at Looe, he fell off just when he was trying to show off his mountain bike skills. Poor Eliot!

Looe was the venue for our afternoon tea stop, where we indulged in huge and extravagant ice-creams. Some of the lads were slow in getting ready to leave, so Michael took Richard around the corner to start him up the long, steep hill out of the town. In those sixty seconds the rest of the gang became ready to leave, couldn't see Michael anywhere and foolishly took a best guess at the route. It was a dead end, and involved them in quite a bit of back-tracking to rejoin Michael. Meanwhile, Richard had come back down the hill to see where Michael was...!

Golant was friendly and welcoming as always. We divided the evening between playing Frisbee on the lawn with another family and practising one of Michael's card leagues in the comfortable top-floor dormitory.

Sunday's ride was more of an achievement than a pleasure. We wanted to avoid an expensive train fare from Plymouth to Totnes if we could, so we set our heads into the wind and drizzle and rode for all we were worth along the main roads. Somehow we all covered the 55 miles to Buckfastleigh by 6pm - quite an achievement for Eliot, Paul, Chris and Richard.