Day 1 - St David's to Brecon - projected distance 93 miles.

After scrambled eggs in our hotel in St David's we set off in the car to the coast, a couple of miles down the road, at St Justinian's. After the obligatory photo (there it is, on the right), I started cycling just after 9.30am.

Light rain had been forecast, and light rain we had. A couple of weeks ago in Corsica I noticed that the most expensive restaurants had special machines to spray a fine mist of water over their select clients. In Wales, it is much more democratic - everyone who ventures outside gets sprayed with a fine mist of water. In a way, I liked the rain to start with - it cemented the idea that St David's is a wet and wild coastal outpost of Britain. The scenery and the mist reminded me of Dartmoor, which does have a grandeur about it.

As I headed towards Haverfordwest the mist had thickened into a fog and I was glad I had re-attached a rear light to my bike. To add to the drama, the rain started to hammer down with more force, and as I edged gingerly down the 16% hill to the coast at Newgale I thought it aptly named. This part of the ride was quite 'lumpy', although none of the hills were too long.

Every now and again I would pull into a lay-by to smear the water across my glasses. I couldn't clean them completely because I had no dry clothing whatsoever, and everything in my pockets was completely sodden. It wasn't all that much fun, and my focus really was on turning the pedals and covering the miles. My GPS had offered me a scenic route this morning, but as it was 121 miles, I declined and opted for the joys of the A40 instead. I spent most of the day on the A40, and it's not very pretty.

Even the A40 has its moments of pleasure though, and mine came when I overtook (or rather, undertook) hundreds of cars which were stationary on the road, waiting for the police to clear away an accident. I could just zip up the inside, trying not to feel too superior.

At Camarthen, my halfway point for the day, it finally stopped raining and I could see where I was going - for about half an hour. Then the drizzle was back - not pleasant, although I was used to it by now. Fortuitously, after 65 miles or so, I was just pulling into a garage to buy some water when Sarah spotted me in the car and pulled in. She employed her wifely skills to provide a couple of much-appreciated marmite sandwiches to help me on my way.

Then it was a steady climb up towards Brecon. I was worrying that the climb - which never seemed to end - might stretch all the way to Brecon, but I was able to enjoy the respite of a few downward swoops. Today wasn't really a day for speed, but I was quite pleased to have breached 40mph this morning and averaged over 16mph for the day.

Overall, the distance today was 95 miles - not at all enjoyable in these dreadful conditions, but satisfying nevertheless. I enjoyed my conversation when I checked into the hotel in Brecon, wearing my helmet and my dripping lycra. "Have you cycled here, then", the man on reception asked. "Oh yes", I replied, "from St David's." He looked at me aghast. "St David's, Pembroke? Crikey - that's a three-hour trip by car, that is." Later this evening, I spotted an old photograph on the stairs which shows this fine building used to be the HQ for the Brecon bicycle touring club. We're staying in the right place, then.