The Peacock Tearooms at Ely had attracted the attention of the 'Independent' reading faction of the Wednesday Ride, who just couldn't wait to test the quality of tea, cakes and scones.

There are only two basic routes to Ely, with marginal variations on one of them. Each route looks remarkably like the other, the only difference being traffic volume. More miles of fenland or fewer miles of traffic. Choices, choices.

We were a group of eleven at the bus stop, and we welcomed two new pairs of legs in form of 'Ed' (whose last name I didn't get) and Mr Hogg (whose first name I have already - to my shame - forgotten). Mr H demonstrated that five gears are quite sufficient for round these parts. Tricia Dennison joined us for the first time, and Ann Fish had come back for more - riding her second WR.

The tail wind out ensured a rapid but unchallenging ride. Because it is possible to see all the scenery in one go, I can dispose of it with the words 'flat' 'straight' 'impressive' 'sky' 'soil' 'black' 'poplars' (the last coupled with 'tall' 'new' and 'why didn't they do it hundreds of years ago?') There was discussion about the origins of Queen Adelaide

After a circuit of historic Ely with its 21st century-installed 19th century-style paving and terribly old and impressive (that word again) cathedral we found 'Peacocks'. We didn't enquire whether the name related to the bird or birds - or maybe to a retirement project for Captain Peacock. We were certainly served, and served really well. Some of us realised that we had been before, in darkest winter and recalled how fine a tea experience it had been. No different now, but with the added endorsement of selection by the Tea Council as one of the 50 best in the land.

We had a room to ourselves, with a huge oval table that comfortably seated us all. Tony Panting reminded us that yesterday had been the anniversary of 'Operation Pied Piper' which involved the evacuation of children from London at the start of WWII, (including a tiny Tony) his account was very moving - though with no trace of self-pity. The china was fine, the teas bewilderingly various, my scones were superb, the toasted teacakes looked wonderfully generous and the cake portions were substantial. Some might feel that £2.50 for a pot of tea is a bit strong, and that a total that topped £6 was a bit rich; but I thought that for this Wednesday ride, it was the icing on the cake.

An incautious remark about a road sign led to me being the man with the plan for the return journey. I repaid this misplaced faith by taking us in a near-circle, joining the A142 Ely to Soham road about one mile out of Ely but about three miles into our route. Nothing for it but to grit our teeth and tough it out all the way to Soham and thence Fordham to pick up a standard route home.

Now headwinds can, and do, keep a bunch together. But on-the-nose winds are short lived and travel with their sneaky and destructive allies, the cross winds. Unless an echelon can be organised right across the road, there's no way eleven riders can all get shelter. Thus it was that , nearing Soham, Tricia came alongside me at the front with news of riders off the back. Rolling back to investigate, I reach rider nine - look behind - and see two specks down the road. Recover Ann and Ed, and begin to shepherd them back to the fold.

Suddenly, the distant bunch shoots off to the left. When we reach the junction, I can read 'Prickwillow'. This would lead all the way back to within three miles of Ely, and I didn't think it a good idea to drag Ann the extra distance so, now joined by Tricia, we trundled on along the 142. My mistake was also a left turn (so tempting when stuck on a main road) - to Isleham, it wasn't a huge error, but I made it a bit worse by going via Fordham. In the olden days, of course, I could've bluffed it and not let on that I was navigationably fallible; but I had Tricia and her unforgiving Garmin to face, so I knew the truth would out when she sent me the map with its wiggly blue line.

I don't yet know about the Prickwillow faction, but it was yet another eighty miler at over 16mph, for me and maybe 90 for Ann. I think there are lessons to be learned about distance, vigilance and communication. Not an insurmountable problem, we just need to concentrate a bit more and especially when we are a line of eleven riders, which makes the last wheel about 30yds away from the driver (and if they're struggling, they'll hardly have breath to shout)

Don't ignore the comments box at the bottom - have your say; make a suggestion; did you make it to P'willow?