After a relaxed evening planning the next two days, enjoying some gin and tonic, and sharing good conversation with Alan’s family, it was time to set off for another day in the TWIKE. Today’s route would take me towards the southern coast of England, with plenty of interesting stops along the way.
The plan was to cross the Surrey Hills, visit an artisanal distillery, pass through the historic market town of Petworth, have lunch by the sea, stop at West Wittering Beach, and eventually make my way towards Southport for the ferry to Guernsey. The day ahead promised variety and new sights, with enough flexibility to enjoy each place as it came.
After a strong morning cup of tea, I thanked Alan warmly for his hospitality and said my goodbyes.
The weather was clear, the air mild, and the TWIKE had more than 400 km of range ready. It felt like the kind of day that would be good for both driving and exploring.
Within about half an hour I reached the Silent Pool Distillery, nestled beside the spring-fed Silent Pool itself. This small lake has been a source of fresh water for centuries, a fitting neighbour to a distillery known for its carefully crafted gins.
Arriving right at opening time, I was the first visitor and had the shop to myself.
They offered a tasting of their full range, each gin with its own distinct flavour profile inspired by the surrounding countryside. Sampling them in the quiet of the morning was a surprisingly pleasant way to start the day.
Being the only guest also meant I was given a quick, informal tour of the distillery. The copper stills and shelves lined with bottles showed just how much care goes into every batch.
Leaving the distillery, I wound my way along narrow country lanes through the Surrey Hills, a designated Area of ‘Outstanding Natural Beauty’. The scenery shifted between wooded slopes, hidden streams, and small hamlets where time seemed to pass gently.
The roads became even narrower at times, lined with trees that formed green tunnels overhead. In places, two vehicles could not pass at the same time, even something as compact as the TWIKE.
At one point I found myself behind a small group of horse riders accompanied by dogs who announced my presence with enthusiastic barking. We shared the lane for a good while before parting ways, each continuing at an unhurried pace.
I felt calm and content, enjoying the journey.
Reaching Petworth, I parked the TWIKE and explored on foot. The town is known for its antique shops, charming streets, and Petworth House, an impressive National Trust.
The centre offered quiet pedestrian lanes, small cafés, and friendly shopkeepers. It felt well cared for and proud of its history.
Even the Queen once visited, a detail the locals seem quietly pleased to mention.
From Petworth, I continued through the South Downs National Park. The landscape here is a patchwork of rolling chalk hills, open fields, and ancient woodland, dotted with villages whose stone cottages seem almost unchanged for centuries.
My route led me towards Bognor Regis, a classic seaside town that has been a holiday destination for generations. Its promenade, amusements, and long shingle beach give a sense of traditional British seaside life.
After parking the TWIKE, I was greeted by a local man from a nearby booth who asked the familiar questions about my unusual vehicle. In return, I asked where he would go for fish and chips. He pointed across the road to an unassuming spot that, he assured me, was the place everyone in town favoured. I followed his advice and was not disappointed.
This was one of the best plates of fish and chips I have had in a long while. The batter was perfectly crisp, the fish tender and full of flavour, and the chips rich and satisfying. As a welcome bonus, the place seemed known mostly to locals.
After this satisfying lunch, I walked through Bognor Regis. The pier offered a fine vantage point over a beach that felt resolutely British, with its muted tones, shingle shore, and that unmistakable smell of salt in the air.
When I returned to the TWIKE, a small crowd had gathered. People were curious, asking questions and peering inside. It reminded me that I should create a QR code linking to this page so anyone can learn more even when I am not there.
My next stop was West Wittering, known for its sweeping sandy beach and clear waters.
Parking at the beach was managed by an automated camera system, with payment handled online later. That could wait. The soft sand and gentle sound of the tide made it easy to settle down and simply enjoy the warmth of the day.
Two hours later, I woke from an impromptu nap with a hint of sunburn and a craving for something cold and sweet.
Even in the height of the summer break, the ice cream kiosk was almost empty. I ordered a Mr. Whippy with a flake of chocolate. It is a simple pleasure and one that carries many childhood memories from my visits to the UK when I was young.
That simple cone somehow made the day feel complete.
Later, when leaving the car park, I made a note of the payment website and decided to handle it while on the ferry to Guernsey.
My last stop before the port was a small pub. I wanted a pint of cider and some pork scratchings to mark my farewell to the UK. The pub had a modest but welcoming car park with a tablet for customers to register their vehicles to avoid parking charges. Seeing my license plate appear in the style of a British number plate was an oddly pleasing detail.
The pub was small and comfortable, and the cider was exactly what I had hoped for. The pork scratchings were crisp, salty, and full of flavour. It felt like a fitting send-off.
After this stop, I made my way to Portsmouth port.
At ticketing, I joined a short queue and was directed toward the security area after declaring my vehicle as electric. This earned me a large green sticker and a few questions that reminded me of border checks in the US or Israel, though the inspection itself was brief.
By the time I reached the ferry, most of the trucks had already boarded, including one rather large dumper truck. Soon, the TWIKE rolled up the ramp and into its place for the night.
Inside, the trailers were plugged into 22kW connectors, though the crew were unsure how to manage charging for my TWIKE during the crossing. It was not an issue; I was confident I could find a charger in Guernsey.
Once I settled into my seat for the night, I tried to pay the beach parking fee from earlier in the day, but the system refused to cooperate. That, I decided, was a problem for another time.
The ferry departed at 8 pm sharp. I enjoyed one last cider, then let the gentle sway of the ship carry me toward sleep. We were scheduled to arrive in Guernsey at 4 am, though disembarkation for cars would not begin until commercial vehicles had cleared, sometime after 5.30 am.
Good night.
