Travellers’ tales: Guy rode around Britain

A man in an orange cycling jersey and cap and sunglasses is standing by the side of a road next to a little row of cottages with wildflowers in front
Starting from his hometown of Hove, Cycling UK member Guy Roebuck cycled around the British coast, experiencing everything from stunning Cornish scenery to midges in Scotland along the way

Where: British coast
Who: Guy Roebuck
When: May to August 2025

The start of my journey from home in Hove on what I’d named GRAB – Guy Rides Around Britain – was a rare chilly day. I was riding for the charity National Axial Spodylioarthritis Society, mostly camping. I kept the sea on my left for easier-to-navigate left turns.

May felt more like August in the south-easterly tailwind I had. I discovered a beautiful place in Cornwall called Fowey after catching one of the many ferries. Later the whole of the wonderful Welsh coast was a joy, which I shared with my friend Pat, who joined me.

After the mixed weather of Wales, I was impressed with the west coast and its surprisingly huge sea defences. The first biting midges arrived near Stranraer; I gave wild camping a break for a couple of weeks and stayed at the amazing Scottish Youth Hostels.

After the sudden scenery change from the north coast of Scotland to the gentle east coast, I visited an old friend I’d not seen in 25 years. The Moray coast was another revelation to me.

The whole experience had been definitely the best journey of my lifetime: 5,091 miles, 84 cycling days, and about 270 pieces of cake scoffed Guy Roebuck, Cycling UK member

Mental exhaustion had caught up with me by Hull. No fault of Hull: I love the place. So I had three days off at my best friend’s house in Nottinghamshire, taking a return train back to the coast.

From there I had the remaining 12 nights of accommodation booked. What a weight off! A friend of a friend put me up near Skegness. He even cleaned my bike!

I met my cousins and family at Southwold, home to some very humorous pier attractions, and had my only swim in the sea of the three-month trip. The Isle of Grain was properly, restfully, off the tourist route.

In Hastings, my final night saw me in a hot tub. “Oh, my leg muscles are more sore than I thought!”, I realised. I was met by the Brighton and Hove Cycling UK group at Berling Gap. I had raised over £3,900 for NASS.

The whole experience had been definitely the best journey of my lifetime: 5,091 miles, 84 cycling days, and about 270 pieces of cake scoffed. Burp.

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