I used to joke about saddle soreness being for wimps (ed: no, not Weakly Interacting Massive Particles) but it seems eight solid days cycling on a thin, racing saddle have taken their toll and today it feels like I'm sitting on razor blades.

So approaching Selby I decide something has to be done. Spotting a Halfords on the outskirts of town, I swap my light-weight, stream-lined saddle for Gel. This costs just 12 quid, but I’d have happily paid 100! The payoff is instant. It now feels like I’m sat on a duvet.

Selby seems a nice kinda place, with a cool church at the center, but I linger only long enough for a photo and then carry on along the B1223 towards York.

Making the switch east of the Pennines earlier in the week will give me a run of over two hundred miles with virtually no hills and I’m cashing in big style today. I hit York mid-afternoon and find my way to the awesome minster, where it’s ice cream time!

With a fair wind and sun shining down, I hope to be in Durham by the close of play tomorrow.