Saturday morning and we're going to Paris. No rosy fingered Dawn to greet us but instead it was cloudy, gray weather and the need to put on glare filters instead of the regular sun glasses from previous days. Breakfast at the Ibis more than made up for dinner the night before. Lots of lovely fresh croissants and a tremendously tasty potato frittata along with plenty of fresh orange juice; plenty to fill up on, even though we were only travelling about 95km or so for the day. A good nights sleep had me feeling much better too.
It was quite exciting to think that by around 2pm we'd be in Paris waiting to take our bow at the Arc de Triomphe before heading to the Eiffel Tower. Bag packed and into the waiting DA van, bike checked out and ready to go. Plenty more water this time, plus plenty of gel packs in reserve to get me through the day if needed. One of the bikes was being worked on by the DA team and upon return to its owner, he complained that the motor didn't seem to be working. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits at the thought of finishing our adventure that day.
Following the orange arrows, it was far quicker getting out of Compiegne and onto a bicycle path that ran alongside one of the main roads through the Foret dominalie de Compiegne heading in the direction of Lacroix St. Ouen. That was a gentle warm up to get us going. Lacroix St Ouen was very quiet, some traffic lights to slow us down, and then to St Vaast and up a hill of about 150 metres spread over 2km with me sputtering on 1 and 2 (i.e. the lowest ratio gears before you start breaking your chain) at about 11km/h. I will do this trip again, and when I do I'll have spent plenty of time climbing hills in order to take on these undulations. Especially after Matt and Alex steamed past me with Matt calling out "down and give me 20"! Sometimes it felt like I couldn't even cycle over a railway bridge.
The first water stop appeared suddenly at a much shorter distance than I had expected. We were next to the Golf du Raray - lovely French Chateau with a proper golf course. The group was quite large as we hadn't spread out too much by this time. It was nice to meet up with the others after being separated in Compiegne and there was a real buzz that this was our final day and Paris was just down the road.
Off again and Karen and I travelled through some very nice, not too hilly, countryside following the D100 south. At one point, and I think this was near Montepiloy, we crossed some cobbles (spoke breaking territory here for the heavier boned) and I was admiring the beauty of the village and stopped to take a photo. As I was putting the camera away I hear Rachel calling out "You OK Tony?". "I'm fine I replied" in my happy little world, as I was just about to clip myself back in to start following the path. "You know you missed an arrow back there?" "Ah, thank you very, very much!!" I humbly replied as without this warning who knows where I would have ended up. I think I still own Rachel a beer!
Now, fortunately back on the right path thanks to Rachel and continuing on to the lunch stop we caught up with the Uni Boys in a largish bunch as we cycled through a couple of larger towns that even had people outside in the daylight. In one town there was a boy of about 10 using an electric scooter to travel back from a shopping errand. I began to seriously contemplate offering him a swap of my bike for the scooter as it looked so easy to be bobbing along the pavement on it. A little later and we passed through another town with cobbles; in hindsight I probably should have walked my bike over them but luckily I navigated them unscathed. On the other side of the cobbles, Alex had popped a spoke and was waiting for the DA van to come and collect.
Coming up to lunch and we saw a sign labelled "Survilliers"; I suddenly realised with great excitement that we weren't all that far from Paris. On our summer journey, we'd stayed at the Survilliers St Witz Novotel for a night when going to Paris and I knew we didn't have much further to travel. Lunch was in a car park by the local indoor swimming pool. Not much protection from a biting wind that had sprung up and lots more grey blankets to keep everyone warm. However with smiling faces everywhere and an energetic buzz about the lunchtime chat you could tell we weren't far from our goal.
Second last big briefing from Jo. We had to be at the Parc Monceau by 2pm or we'd miss the chance to do our lap of honor in Paris. Mark from DA was la voiture balai, tagging along at the back and sweeping up any stragglers into his van that might miss the cut off time.
This last leg into Paris was the most enjoyable one for me. Just out of Survilliers we had a little climb and then a dip into a village, another climb out and then, and I'm guessing here because I really lost track of time and space at this point, about an hour on a fairly exposed ridge and then a cycle path beside an N road where Matt, Alex, Karen, Martin (from the Uni Crew), Ian, myself and maybe a 6th person (possibly Nathan, maybe Olivia but again, no idea who as I was just lost in the moment), spent the time cycling in formation, rotating the front rider, tailing each other like a proper group of cyclists and, for a bunch of pure amateurs, basically belting along at around 30 km/h into a pretty stiff wind. It was really disappointing to hit the outer reaches of Paris and be back in a big city with lots of traffic and slow progress. Karen's chain came off and it took a few minutes to get it sorted and we ended chasing hard until we caught up with Matt and Alex again. Then Alex came to a rapid halt; I thought he needed a rest for his foot but he'd popped an intercostal muscle in his back and was in great pain. I gave him a quick massage of his shoulder to help ease the pain (it's a really nasty place because you can't reach it yourself) and to get him back on the bike. The four of us plus John the Builder (who'd caught up at this point) continued to navigate the outer suburbs of Paris.
We eventually reached the Seine and followed, in what seemed like a very big circle, to eventually find an orange arrow to the left and after a little bit more cycling we found ourselves at Le Garcon de Cafe for a well earned cup of tea, water and beers with Matt, Alex, Barry, John, Karen and myself. We spent about half an hour relaxing, and Barry very kindly paid for our drinks. Back on our bikes and we passed a large contingent of our group sitting in a bar enjoying the sunshine. We eventually found our way to the Parc Monceau, parked up our bikes and waited around for instructions from Jo. Lots of time for photos, chit chat and the odd ice-cream, but the simmering excitement of being so close to the end was palpable.
Finally, the final briefing, well almost, from Jo about how we needed to travel as a bunch and stick together to stop the Parisian traffic from cutting us off and we were off on our bikes being book-ended by the two DA vans. For me, it seemed to take ages to get to the Arc de Triomphe, but it was quite a sight to travel round it on bicycle and then onto the Champs Elysses with lots of cycle bells ringing. Past the offices of HSBC (which felt quite odd as I was there only a couple of weeks earlier), and then some major excitement as some idiot driver of a people mover decided to open a door in front of Em. Fortunately he missed but it was very tempting to punch him as I went past.
Right off the Champs Elysses and another circular trip to get round to the front of the Eiffel tower and then past the tower, left and left, round the fountain and we were there!!!! Lots of excited friends and family to great the various people in the group and then time for hundreds of photos, group photos, more screaming ( mostly Em's friends) some annoying gorilla suited people, but more than anything, the feeling of accomplishment at finishing the challenge. I felt elated for being there.
At the end, Cat, Em, Nathan, Karen and I headed for our hotel at the Pullman Rive Gauche. Em said she needed to stop for a post card. Which was a lie. She was actually getting cards as it was Karen's birthday, which was a really nice touch. We pedalled very slowly for our hotel; I honestly didn't want to stop cycling but knew we'd completed this trip. We met up with Dr John and managed to find the DA van at the back of the hotel and left behind some bikes that had served us faithfully, some more than others, through four days of our journey. I hadn't suffered any mechanical failures and, despite my man-flu, had not suffered any physical problems that stopped me from finishing the ride. Jenny from DA was there to had out room keys and we had a quick drink of champagne before finding our backs and staggering off to our rooms. Mine did smell a bit weird, but I was too tired to really care.
After a shower, it felt quite strange to be wearing proper clothes and know that tomorrow I'd be on the Eurostart back home. Downstairs and the bar was just getting warmed up. The hotel prices were ridiculously expensive, even by Paris standards. I didn't feel like drinking, so instead I managed to get some really good photos of the people we'd travelled with over the last four days. I couldn't care less that Australia had managed to lose to Ireland in the rugby, I was just happy to be in the bar.
Dinner was in the banquet hall at the back of the hotel. More photos and lots of smiles all round when we found our medals for completing the journey. The food was pretty good, although there seemed to be some confusion again about how many vegetarians they had to serve. Old John gave a very good speech thanking the DA team for their efforts. It was quite entertaining, though borderline as you never knew quite where some of his insinuations were going. Jo gave a speech and what turned out to be the final briefing, along with the direction from the DA crew to head for the pizzeria over the road for cheaper beer and the chance to party all night.
In the pizzeria, Karen had the Uni Crew sing a very good basso-tenor "Happy Birthday" and the place was filled with the DA crew and Alzheimer's cyclists, all having a brilliant time. I spoke to many of the people I'd travelled with in the pizzeria, and it was a fitting end to a colossal four days where people cycled their hearts out for a great cause but were there for each other when needed. For me, before I had started the journey and was stood on Blackheath with a bunch of random strangers, I thought it would be like any other tour with a large group where you follow the chosen route and at the end don't speak to each other ever again. This felt more like a pilgrimage with an outcome of great joy; I met some fantastic people along the way who made it possible to simply love the time I had on the road with them; without these people, the experience would have been a long cycle with those unknown strangers.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Day 3 - Arras to Compiegne - Part 2
Nathan, Claire, Stewart, Olivia, Karen and myself left the lunch stop together and with the weather starting to warm up it was promising to be a better afternoon for cycling then the rain and cold of the morning. We headed along the main road for a couple of kilometres before taking a left onto the back roads once more. Nathan, Karen and I stopped at the next corner for the others to catch up and then headed off again in convoy. Nathan and Karen were keen to forge ahead and I just tagged along behind. We noticed that Claire, Stewart and Olivia had stopped moving and Karen went back to find Claire had a front puncture from an earlier pitstop. Luckily Jo showed up in the DA van and fixed it, which included removing the nasty little bit of stone from the tyre that was the cause of the problem.
After this was all sorted, Nathan, Karen and I continued on some fairly open terrain between various mounds of sugar beet that were deposited by the road side. I had thought they were turnips, but apparently Emma, our resident farm girl, had set Karen straight on the type of vegetable being harvested. In one village, an elderly resident gave us a wave and a cheer of "Allez", which was quite heartening.
Jo went past us in the DA van, heading for the water stop. Karen, Nathan and I were directed slightly further right down a very rough country lane with lots of dirt and mushed up vegetable matter on the road. At least it wasn't fertiliser! We came into a little village and left onto the main road and Nathan and I charged ahead until we heard Karen call us back. Missed an orange arrow, so lucky one of us was paying attention. I'm sure that Nathan has repaid his debt for being saved!
Up another "undulation" just before the water stop and back onto the flat and then off into the forest and stopping by a little lake surrounded by trees. At this point I realised I probably hadn't had enough to drink at the lunch stop as I felt quite light headed and in need of a rest before continuing on. In the end I just sat on the grass for a while, eating and drinking plenty to make sure I could get to Compiegne. Karen and Nathan kindly agreed to take it slowly on the final leg as I wasn't sure I'd make it to the hotel without assistance from the DA team if we kept up our previous pace.
Cat, Emma, Stewart, Claire and Olivia caught up with us and a little later Vicki and Holly arrived. Em tried taking off her cycling outer top without removing her helmet, a tricky manoeuvre that failed miserably. It ended with me unclipping the helmet for her, which is something I've only ever done for my children. Em started getting out her gel packs to see if anyone was interested in them; Em and Nathan were then engaged in some light hearted banter about the opportunities for dealing in gel packs in Wales. They were certainly tastier than the Powerbar ones that I'd brought with me; mind you though it's difficult to disguise the taste of the equivalent of six teaspoons of salt and 50mg of caffeine. I gulped down my gel pack to help with the last 30 km and Nathan, Karen and I headed off for the last leg of the day.
There was a sweeping long down hill into the village of Lachelle, big open road and well made (a general feature of the French roads was that they are less potholed than their British equivalents) and we were able to zoom into the village at high speed. After passing school kids on the way home and crossing a little bridge over a small stream, the buzz from the zoom was tempered by the need to cycle up a fairly steep hill. The next down hill took us to an Artisan boulangerie and choclatiere. The tarte au sucre was great, and Karen had some chocolates but alas there was no cafe to sit and have a coffee or a drink of any sort. Back on the bikes and up another hill to find a very busy dog running up and down chasing the cars and bikes from the inside of its fence. Karen realised she'd left her sun glasses behind and went back to get them while I waited with the dog watching me. The hound was definitely quite annoyed that I wasn't moving, this clearly wasn't part of his game. He started running up and down again when Karen came back and we headed towards Compiegne.
Down the hill, over the railway crossing and we found Cat, Emma, Nathan and others looking to figure out which way we were supposed to go. No orange arrows in Compiegne, so a little tricky to navigate through the town. Google maps works as well in France as it does in the UK, which is fortunate, and just as we'd agreed which way to go, Jo showed up and pointed us in the right direction with the added bonus that we were able to follow her for a while rather than trying to use our tired minds to follow the directions we were given. I think we missed the correct turn to take a diversion under the main road into town and instead found ourselves at a give-way sign waiting for gaps to appear in some very busy evening traffic. I managed to find a smallish gap and then cycled slowly waiting for the others to catch up. I eventually reached the bridge where we were to cross the river and turn back for our hotels and waited there until the group was back together.
We then cruised through some fairly leafy suburbia and after what seemed a very long while found our turn offs to our hotels. I was in the Ibis with about 22 or so of the group, the rest were billeted in the Campanile which according to reports did a much better meal than the one we ended up with. Disturbingly, the Ibis was inside a fenced off compound and surrounded by what appeared to be the sort of social housing estates that exist in London in places like Peckham Rye, White City and Croydon.
Arrival time was around 6:30, which made for a very long day and even though we'd cycled at the same average as the day before, around 22km/h, we'd obviously had a lot of down time with our various stops during the day. In all, we'd travelled about 135 km for the day.
Feeling totally knackered, Matt offered me a beer but it seemed I'd developed an allergy to the stuff, possibly from the previous night, and I decided it would be better to sort my room out and get changed for dinner. Turns out that the hotel only had 1 vegetarian on it's list out of 7 and our vegetarian meal was boiled rice with carrots and beans. Quite unappetising and difficult to eat, though the company of Angus and Alan and his daughter Claudia and her best friend Carly helped take my mind off what I was eating.
At 8:30 pm I decided to call it quits and headed for bed. That was the third day and, after another Lemsip, I slept until the early hours of the next morning, and that was much better.
After this was all sorted, Nathan, Karen and I continued on some fairly open terrain between various mounds of sugar beet that were deposited by the road side. I had thought they were turnips, but apparently Emma, our resident farm girl, had set Karen straight on the type of vegetable being harvested. In one village, an elderly resident gave us a wave and a cheer of "Allez", which was quite heartening.
Jo went past us in the DA van, heading for the water stop. Karen, Nathan and I were directed slightly further right down a very rough country lane with lots of dirt and mushed up vegetable matter on the road. At least it wasn't fertiliser! We came into a little village and left onto the main road and Nathan and I charged ahead until we heard Karen call us back. Missed an orange arrow, so lucky one of us was paying attention. I'm sure that Nathan has repaid his debt for being saved!
Up another "undulation" just before the water stop and back onto the flat and then off into the forest and stopping by a little lake surrounded by trees. At this point I realised I probably hadn't had enough to drink at the lunch stop as I felt quite light headed and in need of a rest before continuing on. In the end I just sat on the grass for a while, eating and drinking plenty to make sure I could get to Compiegne. Karen and Nathan kindly agreed to take it slowly on the final leg as I wasn't sure I'd make it to the hotel without assistance from the DA team if we kept up our previous pace.
Cat, Emma, Stewart, Claire and Olivia caught up with us and a little later Vicki and Holly arrived. Em tried taking off her cycling outer top without removing her helmet, a tricky manoeuvre that failed miserably. It ended with me unclipping the helmet for her, which is something I've only ever done for my children. Em started getting out her gel packs to see if anyone was interested in them; Em and Nathan were then engaged in some light hearted banter about the opportunities for dealing in gel packs in Wales. They were certainly tastier than the Powerbar ones that I'd brought with me; mind you though it's difficult to disguise the taste of the equivalent of six teaspoons of salt and 50mg of caffeine. I gulped down my gel pack to help with the last 30 km and Nathan, Karen and I headed off for the last leg of the day.
There was a sweeping long down hill into the village of Lachelle, big open road and well made (a general feature of the French roads was that they are less potholed than their British equivalents) and we were able to zoom into the village at high speed. After passing school kids on the way home and crossing a little bridge over a small stream, the buzz from the zoom was tempered by the need to cycle up a fairly steep hill. The next down hill took us to an Artisan boulangerie and choclatiere. The tarte au sucre was great, and Karen had some chocolates but alas there was no cafe to sit and have a coffee or a drink of any sort. Back on the bikes and up another hill to find a very busy dog running up and down chasing the cars and bikes from the inside of its fence. Karen realised she'd left her sun glasses behind and went back to get them while I waited with the dog watching me. The hound was definitely quite annoyed that I wasn't moving, this clearly wasn't part of his game. He started running up and down again when Karen came back and we headed towards Compiegne.
Down the hill, over the railway crossing and we found Cat, Emma, Nathan and others looking to figure out which way we were supposed to go. No orange arrows in Compiegne, so a little tricky to navigate through the town. Google maps works as well in France as it does in the UK, which is fortunate, and just as we'd agreed which way to go, Jo showed up and pointed us in the right direction with the added bonus that we were able to follow her for a while rather than trying to use our tired minds to follow the directions we were given. I think we missed the correct turn to take a diversion under the main road into town and instead found ourselves at a give-way sign waiting for gaps to appear in some very busy evening traffic. I managed to find a smallish gap and then cycled slowly waiting for the others to catch up. I eventually reached the bridge where we were to cross the river and turn back for our hotels and waited there until the group was back together.
We then cruised through some fairly leafy suburbia and after what seemed a very long while found our turn offs to our hotels. I was in the Ibis with about 22 or so of the group, the rest were billeted in the Campanile which according to reports did a much better meal than the one we ended up with. Disturbingly, the Ibis was inside a fenced off compound and surrounded by what appeared to be the sort of social housing estates that exist in London in places like Peckham Rye, White City and Croydon.
Arrival time was around 6:30, which made for a very long day and even though we'd cycled at the same average as the day before, around 22km/h, we'd obviously had a lot of down time with our various stops during the day. In all, we'd travelled about 135 km for the day.
Feeling totally knackered, Matt offered me a beer but it seemed I'd developed an allergy to the stuff, possibly from the previous night, and I decided it would be better to sort my room out and get changed for dinner. Turns out that the hotel only had 1 vegetarian on it's list out of 7 and our vegetarian meal was boiled rice with carrots and beans. Quite unappetising and difficult to eat, though the company of Angus and Alan and his daughter Claudia and her best friend Carly helped take my mind off what I was eating.
At 8:30 pm I decided to call it quits and headed for bed. That was the third day and, after another Lemsip, I slept until the early hours of the next morning, and that was much better.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Day 3 - Arras to Compiegne - Part 1
Another early alarm. My Blackberry starts singing "Chasing Cars" at the usual 6:45am and I stagger up for a Lemsip, pack my bag and get ready for breakfast. Surprisingly I feel OK, but that might be the paracetamol kicking in. Breakfast is in the street level dining room overlooking the paving that leads to the market square and the train station. At 7:30 am on a Friday morning it's surprising to see people hurrying across the brick work towards the station, some even breaking into a little jog.
Another great breakfast with plenty of fresh croissants, baguettes and boiled eggs. A dodgy orange juicer for use with whole oranges seemed to make more noise than was warranted, given the amount of juice it was producing. Lots of people milling around, some looking a little lost or just stunned; breakfast with Dave was quiet by my standards. This was due to the fact that I could barely talk, a fact that may have related to the bug I was carrying rather than the small amount of Stella I'd consumed the night before.
Finish breakfast, clear out my room, bags in the hall for delivery to DA and the Hotel Ibis in Compiegne and then off to the balcony to find my bike. A little tricky due to the sheer number of bikes squashed together. I carried out a few bikes before mine could be retrieved. Lots of bikes on the ramp outside the hotel, and strangely not too many owners to claim them. Interesting to be leaving from the side of a reasonably busy city road where local buses would come round the corner and charge up the hill while avoiding the milling cyclists and DA vans that were hogging their lane.
Another lovely cool morning, not too cold, but just right for another day of cycling. I wasn't too keen to get started and watched two waves of people leave for the top of the hill. Then I noticed that both lots I'd seen depart were just sitting at the lights waiting to turn left. After a short pause, I decided I might as well join up. Quick sprint to the lights. And stop. We seemed to wait for ages, in reality not more than a couple of minutes; even pressing the button for the pedestrian light didn't facilitate a change. Finally the lights went green and we were able to get underway for the day.
Long straight road heading south out of Arras with a few lights at junctions but not much traffic along the way. I was tailing Alex and Matt when a Porsche overtook me, separating me from them. The driver was clearly frustrated by having to keep to the 30 km/h speed limit and started revving his engine and threatening to overtake them but was thwarted by the nasty bumpy separator in the middle of the road. Eventually he managed to whiz round and head off for his very important appointment.
At this point I realised I couldn't keep up with Alex and Matt; they were too far ahead of me to chase as we turned onto a track with a sign saying that only farm machinery could use the path ahead. As this was our signed route, we just followed it through the fields; it was quite rough and not great for cycling. Here I was cycling along with Olivia and Claire and again it was the pleasant chitter chatter along the way that helped keep our minds off the distance in front of us and just enjoy the moment cycling. Claire insisted in cycling in 8th gear, which is really hard work on the legs. Apparently a friend she cycled with used to call the higher, easier, gears "Granny Gear" and taunt here about cycling in granny gear when they were going to work. Olivia on the other hand had joined a cycling group and was really quick up the hills and zipped along at great speed. We passed through some small towns and at one point over took a group who were watching one of their number get up from the road side; apparently one of them had touched some scree at high speed and suddenly found themselves lying on the road.
We continued on to the water stop at Thiepval which is located at the Thiepval Memorial to the Missing, a massive monument containing the names of over 75,000 French and British soldiers whose bodies were never recovered. Alex found his grandfather's name on one of the plaques, which was quite humbling as it's hard to appreciate just what those soldiers went through in the name of a very stupid war.
Back on the bikes and Claire, Olivia and I headed off for the next stop and continued through the side roads before getting onto a more main road and then heading up a hill to stop at a panoramic view looking over the marshy expanse of the Somme. At this point the weather, which had slowly been getting colder and grayer, finally decided it was time to rain. Fortunately this was the only time on the whole trip we had any precipitation whilst cycling, but it was a little tricky heading down the hill to the river as the water on the road made for wet brake pads and almost no stopping power. There was another climb to a ridge above Eclusier Vaux and as we cycled along the wet road, Olivia reached for her water bottle, clipped the soft verge of the road and fell off her bike, hitting her elbow on the tarmac and giving her shin a good scrape. I stopped and looked back to see her lying under her bike, which is a very unusual way to crash. This was also quite worrying as the shock caused Olivia to get cold and start shivering; we were a long way from lunch and hadn't seen the DA team since the water stop. Turns out Olivia was OK, some antiseptic wipes and the application of a plaster and then back on the bikes again.
Down hill into the transcendently beautiful Eclusier Vaux; a series of lakes and trees with the road passing between them into the village. Local people fishing and canoing in the still, mirror like waters that ran past the village. I could have stopped here for the day. We passed through the village and saw the orange arrows pointing left up a hill and as we headed out of the village we met a group of school students heading down the hill back where we'd been. Later we found out that others who reached the same village saw the orange arrows pointing right and had managed to get totally lost. No prizes for guessing who changed the direction of these arrows!
Karen caught up with us at this village and a number of us continued towards our luncheon prize. Along the way we swapped our stories of why we were raising money for Alzheimer's. My grandmother had suffered from dementia and it was just the gradual loss of her that seemed so sad. When my father moved his mother from her him, she spent 8 months living with us before my father could find her a bed in a nursing home. I just remember my father having a really tough time with the challenges of my Grandma's mental state and the difficulties he went through trying to find her a decent place to live.
We managed to get over a major motorway and over a busy crossroad without further incident, passing Stan with a flat tire on onr really dodgy side ride and past Jo who was mending puncture 72 for the day. Then it was onto the final stretch to find the lunch stop. And no food.
Apparently the lunch crew thought they were supposed to wait for Jo to arrive before they could serve up lunch. According to Jo when we were having dinner, lunch was supposed to be ready for 11:30 am. Net results, 20 or so damp, very hungry and very cold cyclists waiting to get something to eat whose patience was wearing quite thin. One of the DA vans showed up and the food magically appeared. By this time though, 75 year old John with one eye had decided he'd prefer to head off and keep warm rather than hanging around freezing to death and was arguing the point with the DA crew member. Matt was shaking at the picnic table with a plate of food and starting to turn an alarming color of purple. Our very sensible DA rep quickly took out blankets for the colder ones and old John was sat in the passenger seat of the van with the heater running to warm him up. I've a great photo of a motley mob of refugees in the back of the DA van scarfing down their lunch and trying to warm up by sharing body heat like penguins. While we were there, the sun came out and for me it was refreshingly warm just to stand in the shelter of the DA van and warm up in the glorious sunshine.
This was a long stop; the DA team didn't want us to head off until Jo had caught up (lots of punctures on some of the more scrappy roads we'd been on) as they needed to have one of the DA vans ahead of us for the second water stop. We ended up hanging around for a quite a while until everyone had eaten and sorted themselves out. This was quite a low point for some people as it was just chaotic and unpleasant to be so cold and hungry
Another great breakfast with plenty of fresh croissants, baguettes and boiled eggs. A dodgy orange juicer for use with whole oranges seemed to make more noise than was warranted, given the amount of juice it was producing. Lots of people milling around, some looking a little lost or just stunned; breakfast with Dave was quiet by my standards. This was due to the fact that I could barely talk, a fact that may have related to the bug I was carrying rather than the small amount of Stella I'd consumed the night before.
Finish breakfast, clear out my room, bags in the hall for delivery to DA and the Hotel Ibis in Compiegne and then off to the balcony to find my bike. A little tricky due to the sheer number of bikes squashed together. I carried out a few bikes before mine could be retrieved. Lots of bikes on the ramp outside the hotel, and strangely not too many owners to claim them. Interesting to be leaving from the side of a reasonably busy city road where local buses would come round the corner and charge up the hill while avoiding the milling cyclists and DA vans that were hogging their lane.
Another lovely cool morning, not too cold, but just right for another day of cycling. I wasn't too keen to get started and watched two waves of people leave for the top of the hill. Then I noticed that both lots I'd seen depart were just sitting at the lights waiting to turn left. After a short pause, I decided I might as well join up. Quick sprint to the lights. And stop. We seemed to wait for ages, in reality not more than a couple of minutes; even pressing the button for the pedestrian light didn't facilitate a change. Finally the lights went green and we were able to get underway for the day.
Long straight road heading south out of Arras with a few lights at junctions but not much traffic along the way. I was tailing Alex and Matt when a Porsche overtook me, separating me from them. The driver was clearly frustrated by having to keep to the 30 km/h speed limit and started revving his engine and threatening to overtake them but was thwarted by the nasty bumpy separator in the middle of the road. Eventually he managed to whiz round and head off for his very important appointment.
At this point I realised I couldn't keep up with Alex and Matt; they were too far ahead of me to chase as we turned onto a track with a sign saying that only farm machinery could use the path ahead. As this was our signed route, we just followed it through the fields; it was quite rough and not great for cycling. Here I was cycling along with Olivia and Claire and again it was the pleasant chitter chatter along the way that helped keep our minds off the distance in front of us and just enjoy the moment cycling. Claire insisted in cycling in 8th gear, which is really hard work on the legs. Apparently a friend she cycled with used to call the higher, easier, gears "Granny Gear" and taunt here about cycling in granny gear when they were going to work. Olivia on the other hand had joined a cycling group and was really quick up the hills and zipped along at great speed. We passed through some small towns and at one point over took a group who were watching one of their number get up from the road side; apparently one of them had touched some scree at high speed and suddenly found themselves lying on the road.
We continued on to the water stop at Thiepval which is located at the Thiepval Memorial to the Missing, a massive monument containing the names of over 75,000 French and British soldiers whose bodies were never recovered. Alex found his grandfather's name on one of the plaques, which was quite humbling as it's hard to appreciate just what those soldiers went through in the name of a very stupid war.
Back on the bikes and Claire, Olivia and I headed off for the next stop and continued through the side roads before getting onto a more main road and then heading up a hill to stop at a panoramic view looking over the marshy expanse of the Somme. At this point the weather, which had slowly been getting colder and grayer, finally decided it was time to rain. Fortunately this was the only time on the whole trip we had any precipitation whilst cycling, but it was a little tricky heading down the hill to the river as the water on the road made for wet brake pads and almost no stopping power. There was another climb to a ridge above Eclusier Vaux and as we cycled along the wet road, Olivia reached for her water bottle, clipped the soft verge of the road and fell off her bike, hitting her elbow on the tarmac and giving her shin a good scrape. I stopped and looked back to see her lying under her bike, which is a very unusual way to crash. This was also quite worrying as the shock caused Olivia to get cold and start shivering; we were a long way from lunch and hadn't seen the DA team since the water stop. Turns out Olivia was OK, some antiseptic wipes and the application of a plaster and then back on the bikes again.
Down hill into the transcendently beautiful Eclusier Vaux; a series of lakes and trees with the road passing between them into the village. Local people fishing and canoing in the still, mirror like waters that ran past the village. I could have stopped here for the day. We passed through the village and saw the orange arrows pointing left up a hill and as we headed out of the village we met a group of school students heading down the hill back where we'd been. Later we found out that others who reached the same village saw the orange arrows pointing right and had managed to get totally lost. No prizes for guessing who changed the direction of these arrows!
Karen caught up with us at this village and a number of us continued towards our luncheon prize. Along the way we swapped our stories of why we were raising money for Alzheimer's. My grandmother had suffered from dementia and it was just the gradual loss of her that seemed so sad. When my father moved his mother from her him, she spent 8 months living with us before my father could find her a bed in a nursing home. I just remember my father having a really tough time with the challenges of my Grandma's mental state and the difficulties he went through trying to find her a decent place to live.
We managed to get over a major motorway and over a busy crossroad without further incident, passing Stan with a flat tire on onr really dodgy side ride and past Jo who was mending puncture 72 for the day. Then it was onto the final stretch to find the lunch stop. And no food.
Apparently the lunch crew thought they were supposed to wait for Jo to arrive before they could serve up lunch. According to Jo when we were having dinner, lunch was supposed to be ready for 11:30 am. Net results, 20 or so damp, very hungry and very cold cyclists waiting to get something to eat whose patience was wearing quite thin. One of the DA vans showed up and the food magically appeared. By this time though, 75 year old John with one eye had decided he'd prefer to head off and keep warm rather than hanging around freezing to death and was arguing the point with the DA crew member. Matt was shaking at the picnic table with a plate of food and starting to turn an alarming color of purple. Our very sensible DA rep quickly took out blankets for the colder ones and old John was sat in the passenger seat of the van with the heater running to warm him up. I've a great photo of a motley mob of refugees in the back of the DA van scarfing down their lunch and trying to warm up by sharing body heat like penguins. While we were there, the sun came out and for me it was refreshingly warm just to stand in the shelter of the DA van and warm up in the glorious sunshine.
This was a long stop; the DA team didn't want us to head off until Jo had caught up (lots of punctures on some of the more scrappy roads we'd been on) as they needed to have one of the DA vans ahead of us for the second water stop. We ended up hanging around for a quite a while until everyone had eaten and sorted themselves out. This was quite a low point for some people as it was just chaotic and unpleasant to be so cold and hungry
Friday, September 30, 2011
Day 2 - Calais to Arras - Part 2
Back on the bike after lunch, but I was a bit slow to tag along with some of the others and too quick for the rest who were still lunching. That meant I ended up cycling on my own for the next 32 km/20 mile stretch to the second water stop for the day. Which seemed a whole lot longer than it should have been, and definitely was not fun.
I stopped for a few photo opportunities along the way. One house I passed had a large drive and lots of figurines on the window sills and patio, plus fountain, seats and planters. Another stop at the Cafe du Centre, labelled "Chez Isabelle", was ferme. In fact, this was quite a feature of the three days before we reached Paris. We all had expectations of being able to stop at little Cafes for coffee and pastries but most of the towns we passed through seemed deserted and Cafes were non-existent or closed.
There was one large "undulation" of 130 metres across a kilometre, and then the terrain flattened out, or indeed seemed to be a bit more down hill. There was a right hand turn across a set of railway tracks and I had to wait for the crossing gates to lift before continuing on. Heading to the water stop a sign to the right said "Arras 10 km" but the orange arrows were pointing left; by my rough calculations we still had more than 30 kilometres to travel on our route and it was a real downer to know that there was more than an hour to go before stopping. Apparently the right hand turn led to the motor way, a less than ideal route for us amateurs to be taking. This didn't stop a few people from attempting to take the short cut.
Water stop was just a lay-by with a fenced off sports field. Jack had overtaken me well before I reached the stop and he was there along with a few others who I'd seen in the distance but just couldn't keep up with. Karen arrived shortly after, having covered the route on her own as well. John the Builder was grumping around as his knees hurt and he just wanted the day to be over with. The rest of us seemed quite happy with our progress and were keen to get to Arras and end the day.
Karen, Jack and I headed off for the final leg into Arras. We'd been told that the orange arrows would disappear just before we reached the town and I don't think one of us quite remembered exactly which direction we were supposed to take when we arrived.
The road in was more urban, with a few twists and turns in towns as we closed in on the outskirts of Arras. At one point my legs started feeling tired and I moaned something to Karen about not being able to keep up. Employing all of her experience as a fitness trainer, she just ignored me and I'm sure that she started to peddle faster. I just did my best to try and keep up.
Arras is a big town and we continued to follow the signs for the centre. At one point we were concerned about the direction we were taking, so Karen stopped some of the locals to check exactly which way we needed to go to find the train station. They pointed us along the street we were on, so we just kept on keeping on. Ian and Barry caught up with us at a set of lights not far from our hotel. I nearly managed to run a red light, but Barry's voice kept me from taking on the traffic crossing from our left.
At the hotel, right in the centre of Arras by the main square and train station, we found our way up to the balcony and parked up our bikes. Jenny from DA helped me sort out a room and then it was off for a shower and change and ready to relax in the late afternoon sunshine. I found Cat enjoying a beer and introduced myself to Nathan and sat down with them to enjoy a large Stella. And another one. Then we decided to move on and found Matt, Alex and assorted others sitting at another bar. This forced us to stop for a couple more Stella's.
Dinner was in the hotel next to ours, so we all headed over to for a lovely risotto and more beer. At dinner on my table I met Stewart, born a Pom but talks Kiwi, along with Holly, and Vicki who were travelling together and we were sat with Angus, Cat and Nathan and had a great evening chatting away. I recall Vivienne and blond haired Nicky arriving well into dinner to a huge round of applause - I hope that helped lift their spirits after what sounded like a really tough day. Then back to the hotel and Matt made me drink another pint of Stella as the fitter ones kept up a tough pace.
Bed and lots of water were quite welcome, but I woke at 3 in the morning unable to breathe properly and my throat was really sore. Lemsip, more water, lay in bed to watch TV, more water as I realised that I did need to re-hydrate after cycling all day, more water, more water. Dodgy French/Canadian Sci-Horror called "Splice" about a scientist couple who genetically engineer a monster. Finally fell asleep around half four in the morning. That was the second day, it was was really very good.
I stopped for a few photo opportunities along the way. One house I passed had a large drive and lots of figurines on the window sills and patio, plus fountain, seats and planters. Another stop at the Cafe du Centre, labelled "Chez Isabelle", was ferme. In fact, this was quite a feature of the three days before we reached Paris. We all had expectations of being able to stop at little Cafes for coffee and pastries but most of the towns we passed through seemed deserted and Cafes were non-existent or closed.
There was one large "undulation" of 130 metres across a kilometre, and then the terrain flattened out, or indeed seemed to be a bit more down hill. There was a right hand turn across a set of railway tracks and I had to wait for the crossing gates to lift before continuing on. Heading to the water stop a sign to the right said "Arras 10 km" but the orange arrows were pointing left; by my rough calculations we still had more than 30 kilometres to travel on our route and it was a real downer to know that there was more than an hour to go before stopping. Apparently the right hand turn led to the motor way, a less than ideal route for us amateurs to be taking. This didn't stop a few people from attempting to take the short cut.
Water stop was just a lay-by with a fenced off sports field. Jack had overtaken me well before I reached the stop and he was there along with a few others who I'd seen in the distance but just couldn't keep up with. Karen arrived shortly after, having covered the route on her own as well. John the Builder was grumping around as his knees hurt and he just wanted the day to be over with. The rest of us seemed quite happy with our progress and were keen to get to Arras and end the day.
Karen, Jack and I headed off for the final leg into Arras. We'd been told that the orange arrows would disappear just before we reached the town and I don't think one of us quite remembered exactly which direction we were supposed to take when we arrived.
The road in was more urban, with a few twists and turns in towns as we closed in on the outskirts of Arras. At one point my legs started feeling tired and I moaned something to Karen about not being able to keep up. Employing all of her experience as a fitness trainer, she just ignored me and I'm sure that she started to peddle faster. I just did my best to try and keep up.
Arras is a big town and we continued to follow the signs for the centre. At one point we were concerned about the direction we were taking, so Karen stopped some of the locals to check exactly which way we needed to go to find the train station. They pointed us along the street we were on, so we just kept on keeping on. Ian and Barry caught up with us at a set of lights not far from our hotel. I nearly managed to run a red light, but Barry's voice kept me from taking on the traffic crossing from our left.
At the hotel, right in the centre of Arras by the main square and train station, we found our way up to the balcony and parked up our bikes. Jenny from DA helped me sort out a room and then it was off for a shower and change and ready to relax in the late afternoon sunshine. I found Cat enjoying a beer and introduced myself to Nathan and sat down with them to enjoy a large Stella. And another one. Then we decided to move on and found Matt, Alex and assorted others sitting at another bar. This forced us to stop for a couple more Stella's.
Dinner was in the hotel next to ours, so we all headed over to for a lovely risotto and more beer. At dinner on my table I met Stewart, born a Pom but talks Kiwi, along with Holly, and Vicki who were travelling together and we were sat with Angus, Cat and Nathan and had a great evening chatting away. I recall Vivienne and blond haired Nicky arriving well into dinner to a huge round of applause - I hope that helped lift their spirits after what sounded like a really tough day. Then back to the hotel and Matt made me drink another pint of Stella as the fitter ones kept up a tough pace.
Bed and lots of water were quite welcome, but I woke at 3 in the morning unable to breathe properly and my throat was really sore. Lemsip, more water, lay in bed to watch TV, more water as I realised that I did need to re-hydrate after cycling all day, more water, more water. Dodgy French/Canadian Sci-Horror called "Splice" about a scientist couple who genetically engineer a monster. Finally fell asleep around half four in the morning. That was the second day, it was was really very good.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Cycling to Paris: Day 2 Calais to Arras - Part 1
Up bright and early, silly o'clock is the technical term for being on holiday and out of bed before 7am, and down for breakfast. The great thing about being in France is plenty of freshly baked croissants and baguettes. Excellent food if you're going to be cycling all day. The Kyriad provided a lot of them and I managed to consume quite a few, washed down with orange juice and a couple of eggs. Lovely view from the breakfast room of the mini golf course next door and a large number of beach huts on the plage.
My room mate informed me that I'd snored the night before. If my wife says this, it's equivalent to her saying that she was camped at Victoria Bus Station pretending to sleep while every thirty seconds a fleet of buses departed. It's that bad when I have a throat infection. Decided that it might be best to see if I could get a single room for the rest of the trip.
Bag packed and in the front room and ready to go. I asked Jo to have a look at my brake pads as the front brake kept screeching down the frame when I used it. Note to self: must learn how to replace and realign brakes. Then I checked the tyres and decided the front one needed more air. Undo Presta valve, get large bike pump, inflate tyre to correct pressure and remove pump. Presta valves blows out and tyre goes flat. Bother. Take off wheel, replace tube, put tyre back on and reattach wheel and inflate new tube to correct pressure. This means I'm the last to leave the hotel at about 8:30 and tootle off looking for orange arrows to head out of town. I bumped into Mark from DA who promptly ended up with a flat and headed back.
Calais is nice enough, but when looking for orange arrows it's difficult to remember much than a bunch of roundabouts and a bridge before getting onto the main road out of town. The morning was beautifully sunny and the fresh air felt great on my face as I cycled along. Left over a bridge and past some fields, and then right onto a long flat D road beside a canal. Lots of interesting houses on the other side of the canal, all with little bridges that provided access to them. Really pretty, especially with the dew rising into a morning mist.
I cruised past three locals who were out for a morning cycle and worked myself up to a speed of about 30km/h for the next half hour. At one point I noticed that Stan was sitting on my shoulder enjoying the tow; it was certainly a great feeling to be zipping along and be quick enough to stay out in front.
The canals gave way to a larger road and Stan and I caught up with a group who'd made a stop in Louches; one of them needed to visit a local bike shop to sort out a wheel. Apparently one guy had a stick catch in his rear wheel and throw him off on the first day, which sounds nasty but luckily he weren't hurt. It also meant the wheel was not running true and needed sorting.
Ten minutes later and we were heading up a smaller hill and getting closer to the first water stop. After going up one reasonably small hill we were then faced with a climb of about 110 metres spread over 2 km. It doesn't sound much when you write it down. But being novice cyclists it seemed quite a long way. We were catching up with a few of the slower people who'd chosen to get off their bikes and admire the view on the way to the top. At the top of the ridge I took a great photo of some cows heading towards us; brilliant blue sky in the background with low white cloud on the horizon, all quite breathtaking.
Water stop was at the top of the next ridge in a car park, right in the middle of a national park. Very peaceful surrounds as there were only a couple of cars. Surrounded by trees and the sounds of wildlife, I could easily have spent the rest of the day sitting there. At the supply table, the rotten bananas from day 1 had disappeared and were replaced by varying sorts of biscuits. The routine was a little more familiar; drink plenty of water with some cordial in it. Fill up your water bottle, have an energy bar, drink more water, top up the water bottle and get back on the road.
Back out onto the road and I was travelling with the Uni team as we headed onto one of the better quality D roads that took us through two larger towns on the way to lunch. At one point I was chatting with Nick and mentioned that the road headed up the hill and over to the right. He queried if I'd been this way before; it never occurred to me that looking ahead and noticing that there were trees higher up with a gap between them was a useful skill!
At some point I left the Uni crew behind and started tailing Stan again and in one of the towns Karen caught up with us. It was around this time that I had one of my first "wobbles"; I went round a corner going up a hill and suddenly felt "wrong" all over. A weird sort of dizzy feeling, like all the blood is leaving your body. I figured it was a lack of food; 1 energy bar later and I was feeling alright again. Chatting to Karen, turns out that her bike was the one with the broken chain from the day before. Mike couldn't get the connecting pin sorted and it broke, leaving Karen to spend most of day one either in one of the vans or riding a bike that was too large for her. This all sounded very frustrating.
Going up another "undulation" before lunch, Stan started on a few songs to keep us going on the incline. Roger Miller's "King of the Road" was one of them. My lack of speaking ability due to my dodgy throat was a boon for my cycling mates as it prevented me from singing tonelessly loud. Stan started to put in a sprint to the luncheon; obviously keen to get plates full of the sumptuous feast that awaited us.
On the next undulation, there were a few cows loose on the road. A number of fellow cyclists all concluded that cows in France come equipped with horns. This makes it difficult to know if they are boys or girls. At lunch I discovered that Cat and Emma were quite worried by the appearance of these marauders threatening to take them out on what was an otherwise quiet roadside, so much so they were unable to identify the sex of the animals. I believe that, based on the udders on show, they were girls and relatively benign. Not that I was willing to tempt fate and just kept going.
On the map, lunch was somewhere near Perne; going up another longish undulation there was a large and very welcome sign saying "Lunch" with an arrow to the left. A slight downhill and bend took me to a playing field with the vans parked up and lunch tent ready to serve.
Matt and Alex had arrived well ahead of me, having got a head start on the day, and there were about 20 or so of the group there, including Stan.
Another big serving of all sorts of food; pasta, salads, mint cucumbers (very interesting) and lots for the carnivores. I grabbed mine and sat at one of the picnic tables and met Cat who filled me in on the problems with the cows.
We'd covered about 50 miles or 80 kilometres at this point, so we were over halfway for the day, and with the great company along the way all of it had passed by in a flash. Certainly easier than many of the long cycles I'd done on my own.
My room mate informed me that I'd snored the night before. If my wife says this, it's equivalent to her saying that she was camped at Victoria Bus Station pretending to sleep while every thirty seconds a fleet of buses departed. It's that bad when I have a throat infection. Decided that it might be best to see if I could get a single room for the rest of the trip.
Bag packed and in the front room and ready to go. I asked Jo to have a look at my brake pads as the front brake kept screeching down the frame when I used it. Note to self: must learn how to replace and realign brakes. Then I checked the tyres and decided the front one needed more air. Undo Presta valve, get large bike pump, inflate tyre to correct pressure and remove pump. Presta valves blows out and tyre goes flat. Bother. Take off wheel, replace tube, put tyre back on and reattach wheel and inflate new tube to correct pressure. This means I'm the last to leave the hotel at about 8:30 and tootle off looking for orange arrows to head out of town. I bumped into Mark from DA who promptly ended up with a flat and headed back.
Calais is nice enough, but when looking for orange arrows it's difficult to remember much than a bunch of roundabouts and a bridge before getting onto the main road out of town. The morning was beautifully sunny and the fresh air felt great on my face as I cycled along. Left over a bridge and past some fields, and then right onto a long flat D road beside a canal. Lots of interesting houses on the other side of the canal, all with little bridges that provided access to them. Really pretty, especially with the dew rising into a morning mist.
I cruised past three locals who were out for a morning cycle and worked myself up to a speed of about 30km/h for the next half hour. At one point I noticed that Stan was sitting on my shoulder enjoying the tow; it was certainly a great feeling to be zipping along and be quick enough to stay out in front.
The canals gave way to a larger road and Stan and I caught up with a group who'd made a stop in Louches; one of them needed to visit a local bike shop to sort out a wheel. Apparently one guy had a stick catch in his rear wheel and throw him off on the first day, which sounds nasty but luckily he weren't hurt. It also meant the wheel was not running true and needed sorting.
Ten minutes later and we were heading up a smaller hill and getting closer to the first water stop. After going up one reasonably small hill we were then faced with a climb of about 110 metres spread over 2 km. It doesn't sound much when you write it down. But being novice cyclists it seemed quite a long way. We were catching up with a few of the slower people who'd chosen to get off their bikes and admire the view on the way to the top. At the top of the ridge I took a great photo of some cows heading towards us; brilliant blue sky in the background with low white cloud on the horizon, all quite breathtaking.
Water stop was at the top of the next ridge in a car park, right in the middle of a national park. Very peaceful surrounds as there were only a couple of cars. Surrounded by trees and the sounds of wildlife, I could easily have spent the rest of the day sitting there. At the supply table, the rotten bananas from day 1 had disappeared and were replaced by varying sorts of biscuits. The routine was a little more familiar; drink plenty of water with some cordial in it. Fill up your water bottle, have an energy bar, drink more water, top up the water bottle and get back on the road.
Back out onto the road and I was travelling with the Uni team as we headed onto one of the better quality D roads that took us through two larger towns on the way to lunch. At one point I was chatting with Nick and mentioned that the road headed up the hill and over to the right. He queried if I'd been this way before; it never occurred to me that looking ahead and noticing that there were trees higher up with a gap between them was a useful skill!
At some point I left the Uni crew behind and started tailing Stan again and in one of the towns Karen caught up with us. It was around this time that I had one of my first "wobbles"; I went round a corner going up a hill and suddenly felt "wrong" all over. A weird sort of dizzy feeling, like all the blood is leaving your body. I figured it was a lack of food; 1 energy bar later and I was feeling alright again. Chatting to Karen, turns out that her bike was the one with the broken chain from the day before. Mike couldn't get the connecting pin sorted and it broke, leaving Karen to spend most of day one either in one of the vans or riding a bike that was too large for her. This all sounded very frustrating.
Going up another "undulation" before lunch, Stan started on a few songs to keep us going on the incline. Roger Miller's "King of the Road" was one of them. My lack of speaking ability due to my dodgy throat was a boon for my cycling mates as it prevented me from singing tonelessly loud. Stan started to put in a sprint to the luncheon; obviously keen to get plates full of the sumptuous feast that awaited us.
On the next undulation, there were a few cows loose on the road. A number of fellow cyclists all concluded that cows in France come equipped with horns. This makes it difficult to know if they are boys or girls. At lunch I discovered that Cat and Emma were quite worried by the appearance of these marauders threatening to take them out on what was an otherwise quiet roadside, so much so they were unable to identify the sex of the animals. I believe that, based on the udders on show, they were girls and relatively benign. Not that I was willing to tempt fate and just kept going.
On the map, lunch was somewhere near Perne; going up another longish undulation there was a large and very welcome sign saying "Lunch" with an arrow to the left. A slight downhill and bend took me to a playing field with the vans parked up and lunch tent ready to serve.
Matt and Alex had arrived well ahead of me, having got a head start on the day, and there were about 20 or so of the group there, including Stan.
Another big serving of all sorts of food; pasta, salads, mint cucumbers (very interesting) and lots for the carnivores. I grabbed mine and sat at one of the picnic tables and met Cat who filled me in on the problems with the cows.
We'd covered about 50 miles or 80 kilometres at this point, so we were over halfway for the day, and with the great company along the way all of it had passed by in a flash. Certainly easier than many of the long cycles I'd done on my own.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Cycling to Paris - Day 1 Part 2
Leaving the second water stop at Stelling Minnis, Matt, Alex and myself
headed for the Port of Dover via a short, steep climb reaching a peak at just
on the other side of Swingfield Minnis. Keeping me going was Matt's
suggestion of fish and chips in Dover. At the water stop, Matt had
sounded out Mark, the mechanic, for advice on decent watering holes along the
way into Dover but after cycling past some unappealing places we just ploughed
ahead and into Dover. None of us fancied eating ferry food.
The castle was on the hill above us to our left and the orange arrows continued to show the way to our destination. A quick stop at Morrison's for cash and cold spray for Matt's knee and then a right turn and another right at the roundabout and up a short hill and we found a decent looking cafe to sit down for a meal. We ordered large fish and chips and a beer and what arrived was truly magnificent. Freshly cooked, beautifully prepared cod and chips that were clearly cooked in some very fresh oil. Along with a cool glass of lager, you couldn't ask for more. Even if I drove down for the day, it wouldn't taste that good.
Back on the bikes and we started following more orange arrows which we'd noticed from the sidewalk whilst watching other charity riders go by. Down the hill, left at the roundabout and then into a car park to find ourselves amongst a complete group of strangers and, more importantly, no Discover Adventure banner and no sign of the Tourist Centre that we were supposed to stop at. Matt just kept going and we headed straight through the car park and found ourselves on the right road with the right orange signs to guide us. We arrived after about two thirds of the group had already parked up, which meant time for a few snaps of us standing outside the port and then we headed round the cycle paths to get our tickets.
Parking lane139 at 18:40 said our tickets. Given that it was about quarter past 5, which meant a long stay hanging around in the port getting cold. We even had a curmudgeonly dock worker tell us how dangerous it was to ride around in our high viz gear with all the heavy trucks charging to and from the ferries. There was a collective debunking of walking to our destination, so back on the bikes and a 5 minute cycle to reach our departure point. This turned out to be literally a line numbered 139 in the car park. Offering no shelter from the nagging wind, someone pointed to the services and we all scurried to it in the hope of warmth, a loo stop and a nice cup of hot fresh tea.
Inside there was Costa Coffee and a WH Smith and some horrible smelling fast food place. If you've ever travelled in the UK you'll know that all motorway stops, ferry ports and the Channel Tunnel offer exactly the same formula. Overpriced food that you would only buy if you had nowhere else to go that's served by teenagers with, judging by the state of their nails, questionable personal hygiene. With everyone inside the building, there was still the excited buzz of first day chatter as the little groups who'd travelled together sat down to recap what had happened. Lots of talk about punctures and falling off (mostly those new to wearing clip-ins) and looking forward to reaching Calais. I also met Rachel and Angus from the Alzheimer's team who were doing the whole ride, which I thought was quite impressive and I later found that the DA team thought the same as they normally end up ferrying charity reps between the stops.
Another briefing from Jo, telling us about having to walk onto the ferry due to the metallic nature of the ramp and the risk of falling off and hurting ourselves, and we were off to get our bikes. And stand in the wind waiting to board. We walked over the ramp and had our bikes stacked at the end of the ferry by some churlish French stevedores who seemed affronted by our temerity to bring so many bikes onto their boat. With bikes safely chained up we made our way into the seating on the boat and waited for the bars and restaurants to open. By this stage, I was smugly thinking how great it was to have had a proper meal before leaving. Ferry food is, by all accounts, even less appetising then ferry services food. Still, the lager was cold and wet and that was good.
At Calais we were the last off the ferry, which seemed to take ages to unload the trucks in a pattern designed to stop it from overturning, while we waited in the diesel fumes for our chance to disembark. After being released, we headed over the front gangway and into the car park to meet up with the DA team. Unfortunately we had the wrong car park but, after a quick call to Jo, we headed up over a road bridge and down to where we should have been, between the two DA vehicles that would convoy us to our hotels.
We had to wait for a group of 100 or so charity cyclists to go past before we took off into the night. No passport checks either, despite having it to hand all day. We cycled through the very quiet streets of Calais before the bulk of our peleton was delivered to the more central of the two hotels. A smaller group of about 22, including me, headed for the Kyriad Plage, arriving about 10 minutes later at our chosen point. The bike lock up was a conference room in the hotel which also contained the welcome sight of our backs waiting for collection.
I found my way to my room and talked to Dave my roommate about him getting the first shower while I admired just how small the twin bed room was; one which I was about to share with some random bloke I'd just met earlier that day. I wandered back out to talk to the DA reps on some random topic and then chatted to Rachel as we headed back to the rooms. Dave headed off for a beer, so I grabbed a shower and put on the kettle to make a Lemsip. I really didn't feel like drinking, I just wanted to lie in my bed and get some sleep and try and shake off this sick feeling. I tried writing down what we'd done that day, but started to just nod straight off, so I put my iPod on and passed out.
135km travelled, including the bit to the hotel in Calais. 6 hours 30 minutes on the bike plus a couple of hours of stops for food, water and the 90 minutes spent crossing the English channel plus unrecorded down time waiting around to get on and off the ferry. Bed was probably around 11pm French time. That was the first day.
The castle was on the hill above us to our left and the orange arrows continued to show the way to our destination. A quick stop at Morrison's for cash and cold spray for Matt's knee and then a right turn and another right at the roundabout and up a short hill and we found a decent looking cafe to sit down for a meal. We ordered large fish and chips and a beer and what arrived was truly magnificent. Freshly cooked, beautifully prepared cod and chips that were clearly cooked in some very fresh oil. Along with a cool glass of lager, you couldn't ask for more. Even if I drove down for the day, it wouldn't taste that good.
Back on the bikes and we started following more orange arrows which we'd noticed from the sidewalk whilst watching other charity riders go by. Down the hill, left at the roundabout and then into a car park to find ourselves amongst a complete group of strangers and, more importantly, no Discover Adventure banner and no sign of the Tourist Centre that we were supposed to stop at. Matt just kept going and we headed straight through the car park and found ourselves on the right road with the right orange signs to guide us. We arrived after about two thirds of the group had already parked up, which meant time for a few snaps of us standing outside the port and then we headed round the cycle paths to get our tickets.
Parking lane139 at 18:40 said our tickets. Given that it was about quarter past 5, which meant a long stay hanging around in the port getting cold. We even had a curmudgeonly dock worker tell us how dangerous it was to ride around in our high viz gear with all the heavy trucks charging to and from the ferries. There was a collective debunking of walking to our destination, so back on the bikes and a 5 minute cycle to reach our departure point. This turned out to be literally a line numbered 139 in the car park. Offering no shelter from the nagging wind, someone pointed to the services and we all scurried to it in the hope of warmth, a loo stop and a nice cup of hot fresh tea.
Inside there was Costa Coffee and a WH Smith and some horrible smelling fast food place. If you've ever travelled in the UK you'll know that all motorway stops, ferry ports and the Channel Tunnel offer exactly the same formula. Overpriced food that you would only buy if you had nowhere else to go that's served by teenagers with, judging by the state of their nails, questionable personal hygiene. With everyone inside the building, there was still the excited buzz of first day chatter as the little groups who'd travelled together sat down to recap what had happened. Lots of talk about punctures and falling off (mostly those new to wearing clip-ins) and looking forward to reaching Calais. I also met Rachel and Angus from the Alzheimer's team who were doing the whole ride, which I thought was quite impressive and I later found that the DA team thought the same as they normally end up ferrying charity reps between the stops.
Another briefing from Jo, telling us about having to walk onto the ferry due to the metallic nature of the ramp and the risk of falling off and hurting ourselves, and we were off to get our bikes. And stand in the wind waiting to board. We walked over the ramp and had our bikes stacked at the end of the ferry by some churlish French stevedores who seemed affronted by our temerity to bring so many bikes onto their boat. With bikes safely chained up we made our way into the seating on the boat and waited for the bars and restaurants to open. By this stage, I was smugly thinking how great it was to have had a proper meal before leaving. Ferry food is, by all accounts, even less appetising then ferry services food. Still, the lager was cold and wet and that was good.
At Calais we were the last off the ferry, which seemed to take ages to unload the trucks in a pattern designed to stop it from overturning, while we waited in the diesel fumes for our chance to disembark. After being released, we headed over the front gangway and into the car park to meet up with the DA team. Unfortunately we had the wrong car park but, after a quick call to Jo, we headed up over a road bridge and down to where we should have been, between the two DA vehicles that would convoy us to our hotels.
We had to wait for a group of 100 or so charity cyclists to go past before we took off into the night. No passport checks either, despite having it to hand all day. We cycled through the very quiet streets of Calais before the bulk of our peleton was delivered to the more central of the two hotels. A smaller group of about 22, including me, headed for the Kyriad Plage, arriving about 10 minutes later at our chosen point. The bike lock up was a conference room in the hotel which also contained the welcome sight of our backs waiting for collection.
I found my way to my room and talked to Dave my roommate about him getting the first shower while I admired just how small the twin bed room was; one which I was about to share with some random bloke I'd just met earlier that day. I wandered back out to talk to the DA reps on some random topic and then chatted to Rachel as we headed back to the rooms. Dave headed off for a beer, so I grabbed a shower and put on the kettle to make a Lemsip. I really didn't feel like drinking, I just wanted to lie in my bed and get some sleep and try and shake off this sick feeling. I tried writing down what we'd done that day, but started to just nod straight off, so I put my iPod on and passed out.
135km travelled, including the bit to the hotel in Calais. 6 hours 30 minutes on the bike plus a couple of hours of stops for food, water and the 90 minutes spent crossing the English channel plus unrecorded down time waiting around to get on and off the ferry. Bed was probably around 11pm French time. That was the first day.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
What a blast - London to Paris by Cycle Day 1 Part 1
Last time I wrote, I was close to succumbing to a flu like virus that might have kept me from completing my challenge of cycling from London to Paris. Today I'm very pleased to say that it didn't and that I managed the entire 485 kilometres without suffering mechanical, physical or mental failure in the entire time I was on the road.
At the end of the journey, sitting in my hotel room in Paris, I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment like I've ever felt before. Not even passing my final year of secondary school gave me such a feeling of satisfaction. I've raised over £1,100 for the Alzheimer's society and am really pleased with that too.
The night before leaving I had about five hours of restless, sweat soaked lying on my bed that might be called sleep but felt more like one of those dreams where you're trapped in a sauna.
Without seeing the sun, I crawled out of bed at 5am, finished packing my bag, twice in the end as I swapped to a larger back pack, and put my bike into the back of the car. As my wife drove me to the starting point at Blackheath I felt oddly relaxed as the SatNav assured us we'd arrive in plenty of time but nervous about who and what I would find when I arrived.
At Blackheath the sun was starting to come up and I saw the first of many "Discover Adventure" sails surrounded by cyclists, a welcome sight in the days to come. Check in was pretty simple, swap your name for an envelope containing tags for your bike and bags, a quick check that you were in possession of your passport and then standing around in the biting wind waiting for the first briefing from Jo, the Discover tour lead.
My wife left just before we set off and didn't get home for two hours, which shows just how rubbish traffic in inner London can be. That left me standing with a bunch of strangers in a strange part of London, accompanied by the biting wind of the early morning.
We were then taken through the various health and safety elements of cycling on the road and given instructions to follow the orange arrows as they marked out the route. The first water stop was, we were told, a mere 20 miles, or 32 kilometres, away in the little village of Harvel with a few small hills, or "undulations" as we came to know them, on the way there. How hard could this be?
Starting was a nightmare; a set of temporary lights meant you had 20 cyclists at a time trying to squeeze through the contra-flow and upsetting the gentile London motorists. Once that was out of way, we were heading east into the rising sun and trying to spot our orange triangles. Up Shooters Hill was mostly stop start at the various lights, and with the narrow roads not conducive to getting up a good head of steam, we traveled in single file towards the edge of London. First fall of the day happened when one of the group forget to unclip when stationary. No harm done, just bruised ego! But it was stop-start all the way to the edge of London.
My first experience of being lost made me realise that spotting the orange triangles was one of the most important activities to perform on the trip. Somehow a group of us managed to miss a turn heading out of London and went clockwise around the A207 near Crayford when we should have taken a right and used a different route. Didn't work out badly though, we caught up with the rest of the group shortly after and luckily found ourselves back on the main route.
Once we cleared the M25 the traffic thinned out, as did my companions, and at this point I realised that hills were more problematic than I had supposed. The basic issue with hills is that they tend to go upwards, and when you're on a bicycle this requires you to peddle or you fall off. So far, so good, but I found that I just couldn't get over about 12km/h on any given incline and this didn't improve in the next four days.
Being mindful of not getting lost, and largely being on my own, I kept an eye out for arrows and successfully managed to get to the first water stop in Kent. This was a lovely village green with a couple of trees and the Discover Adventure flag by the way side.
The next 30 miles to lunch all passed by in a blur. Apart from some excitement before lunch where a hare appeared on the road. One of the group started chasing the hare, which took off at about 35 km/h along the road in front of us. Eventually a car overtook us and almost took out the hare which, after a few unsuccessful attempts, managed to find a haven on the other side of a fence.
Eventually we reached the very charming village of Charing in Kent and the orange arrows pointed us right towards a 15th century barn and Bishopric and a church hall for our lunch stop.
Good to get some decent grub and nice to sit out in some sunshine rather than the rain of Blighty these last few weeks. Others started to arrive in dribs and drabs and by the time I was ready to go most of the people had arrived. I wasn't too keen to be on my own, so I tailed along behind a couple of guys who looked like they knew what to do. Matt and Alex, mates from Derby who trained in the Pennines, introduced themselves and I basically tailed along on their wake for the rest of the day.
As we headed further south into Kent, the hills became bigger and more challenging. Particularly interesting was going on very step incline only to find a digger taking up the whole of the lane heading towards us. This was the only time I stopped on a hill as Matt, Alex and myself had to carry our bikes around its enormous wheels and then start peddling uphill again. The Kent lanes were quite small and narrow and dark. We were going down one hill and all of us were wondering what would happen if a car appeared from the other direction; on cue a large Land Rover appeared at the bottom. We were traveling slowly enough to be able to avoid it, but that was quite scary. Alex picked up a puncture and that slowed us down a bit before continuing up the hills and on to the next water stop.
At the van, Mark from DA was wondering if anyone had brought a decent chain tool with them as he was busy trying to repair a chain which he'd fixed earlier but the pin had snapped not long after the owner had ridden off with it. I hadn't brought mine; even though my bike maintenance manual had suggest taking it with me. The unknown recipient of this chain was going to get it back in somewhat dodgy condition.
Next up - Water stop 2 to Dover and onto Calais.
At the end of the journey, sitting in my hotel room in Paris, I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment like I've ever felt before. Not even passing my final year of secondary school gave me such a feeling of satisfaction. I've raised over £1,100 for the Alzheimer's society and am really pleased with that too.
The night before leaving I had about five hours of restless, sweat soaked lying on my bed that might be called sleep but felt more like one of those dreams where you're trapped in a sauna.
Without seeing the sun, I crawled out of bed at 5am, finished packing my bag, twice in the end as I swapped to a larger back pack, and put my bike into the back of the car. As my wife drove me to the starting point at Blackheath I felt oddly relaxed as the SatNav assured us we'd arrive in plenty of time but nervous about who and what I would find when I arrived.
At Blackheath the sun was starting to come up and I saw the first of many "Discover Adventure" sails surrounded by cyclists, a welcome sight in the days to come. Check in was pretty simple, swap your name for an envelope containing tags for your bike and bags, a quick check that you were in possession of your passport and then standing around in the biting wind waiting for the first briefing from Jo, the Discover tour lead.
My wife left just before we set off and didn't get home for two hours, which shows just how rubbish traffic in inner London can be. That left me standing with a bunch of strangers in a strange part of London, accompanied by the biting wind of the early morning.
We were then taken through the various health and safety elements of cycling on the road and given instructions to follow the orange arrows as they marked out the route. The first water stop was, we were told, a mere 20 miles, or 32 kilometres, away in the little village of Harvel with a few small hills, or "undulations" as we came to know them, on the way there. How hard could this be?
Starting was a nightmare; a set of temporary lights meant you had 20 cyclists at a time trying to squeeze through the contra-flow and upsetting the gentile London motorists. Once that was out of way, we were heading east into the rising sun and trying to spot our orange triangles. Up Shooters Hill was mostly stop start at the various lights, and with the narrow roads not conducive to getting up a good head of steam, we traveled in single file towards the edge of London. First fall of the day happened when one of the group forget to unclip when stationary. No harm done, just bruised ego! But it was stop-start all the way to the edge of London.
My first experience of being lost made me realise that spotting the orange triangles was one of the most important activities to perform on the trip. Somehow a group of us managed to miss a turn heading out of London and went clockwise around the A207 near Crayford when we should have taken a right and used a different route. Didn't work out badly though, we caught up with the rest of the group shortly after and luckily found ourselves back on the main route.
Once we cleared the M25 the traffic thinned out, as did my companions, and at this point I realised that hills were more problematic than I had supposed. The basic issue with hills is that they tend to go upwards, and when you're on a bicycle this requires you to peddle or you fall off. So far, so good, but I found that I just couldn't get over about 12km/h on any given incline and this didn't improve in the next four days.
Being mindful of not getting lost, and largely being on my own, I kept an eye out for arrows and successfully managed to get to the first water stop in Kent. This was a lovely village green with a couple of trees and the Discover Adventure flag by the way side.
The next 30 miles to lunch all passed by in a blur. Apart from some excitement before lunch where a hare appeared on the road. One of the group started chasing the hare, which took off at about 35 km/h along the road in front of us. Eventually a car overtook us and almost took out the hare which, after a few unsuccessful attempts, managed to find a haven on the other side of a fence.
Eventually we reached the very charming village of Charing in Kent and the orange arrows pointed us right towards a 15th century barn and Bishopric and a church hall for our lunch stop.
Good to get some decent grub and nice to sit out in some sunshine rather than the rain of Blighty these last few weeks. Others started to arrive in dribs and drabs and by the time I was ready to go most of the people had arrived. I wasn't too keen to be on my own, so I tailed along behind a couple of guys who looked like they knew what to do. Matt and Alex, mates from Derby who trained in the Pennines, introduced themselves and I basically tailed along on their wake for the rest of the day.
As we headed further south into Kent, the hills became bigger and more challenging. Particularly interesting was going on very step incline only to find a digger taking up the whole of the lane heading towards us. This was the only time I stopped on a hill as Matt, Alex and myself had to carry our bikes around its enormous wheels and then start peddling uphill again. The Kent lanes were quite small and narrow and dark. We were going down one hill and all of us were wondering what would happen if a car appeared from the other direction; on cue a large Land Rover appeared at the bottom. We were traveling slowly enough to be able to avoid it, but that was quite scary. Alex picked up a puncture and that slowed us down a bit before continuing up the hills and on to the next water stop.
At the van, Mark from DA was wondering if anyone had brought a decent chain tool with them as he was busy trying to repair a chain which he'd fixed earlier but the pin had snapped not long after the owner had ridden off with it. I hadn't brought mine; even though my bike maintenance manual had suggest taking it with me. The unknown recipient of this chain was going to get it back in somewhat dodgy condition.
Next up - Water stop 2 to Dover and onto Calais.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Almost ready to go
Dear Friends, almost ready indeed. Just need to gather up my belongings in my kit bag, including spare tyres and caffeinated goo for the days when I'm running out of energy, find my passport and make sure I've a few Euros in the wallet for snacks along the way.
I also need to shake off this snotty throat infection that one of my children brought back from a recent holiday. I won't go into detail, just would like to say that I'm not ill and will be pushing myself along on my bike from Wednesday to Saturday this week.
I'll be home Sunday night. Then I can be sick. Right now, I'm not interested in being ill as I don't want to miss out on this opportunity to deliver on my end of the bargain after so many people have sponsored this endeavour. I'm madly keen to do the ride, and perhaps the signs of illness represent some apprehension at the journey. I don't want to be put off by illness.
So I'm keeping myself rugged up and dosing up on vitamin C to ward off whatever virus or bacteria is lurking in my system.
Yesterday I put a new chain on my bike, the first time I've done anything more than change a tyre, and tested it out. I'm happy to report that it all works smoothly and I can't believe how much difference a new chain makes too; the old one was a bit stretched and this means you don't get all your energy into driving the back wheel. The new chain feels smoother and I don't need to work as hard, even into the wind, to maintain the same speeds.
There are 70 people making the ride this week, so plenty of company along the way. The hurricane tail will pass over Europe tonight and hopefully the weather will be drier and less windy later this week.
Before I head off, just a final word of thanks to all of you who've donated to this cause. Your support is greatly appreciated and I'm very pleased that you've pledged so much for Alzheimer's here in the UK.
I also need to shake off this snotty throat infection that one of my children brought back from a recent holiday. I won't go into detail, just would like to say that I'm not ill and will be pushing myself along on my bike from Wednesday to Saturday this week.
I'll be home Sunday night. Then I can be sick. Right now, I'm not interested in being ill as I don't want to miss out on this opportunity to deliver on my end of the bargain after so many people have sponsored this endeavour. I'm madly keen to do the ride, and perhaps the signs of illness represent some apprehension at the journey. I don't want to be put off by illness.
So I'm keeping myself rugged up and dosing up on vitamin C to ward off whatever virus or bacteria is lurking in my system.
Yesterday I put a new chain on my bike, the first time I've done anything more than change a tyre, and tested it out. I'm happy to report that it all works smoothly and I can't believe how much difference a new chain makes too; the old one was a bit stretched and this means you don't get all your energy into driving the back wheel. The new chain feels smoother and I don't need to work as hard, even into the wind, to maintain the same speeds.
There are 70 people making the ride this week, so plenty of company along the way. The hurricane tail will pass over Europe tonight and hopefully the weather will be drier and less windy later this week.
Before I head off, just a final word of thanks to all of you who've donated to this cause. Your support is greatly appreciated and I'm very pleased that you've pledged so much for Alzheimer's here in the UK.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Ypres, War Memorials and Chocaholic Alert
For our summer holiday, our children said they'd like to go to the Menin Gate in Ieper, Belgium, as they'd been there on a school trip and wanted to revisit the town.
The Menin gate is very moving, 55,000 soldiers without graves whose names are carved onto pretty much every wall at the gate. They came from all over the world to serve the British Empire; the memorial itself is maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission and is an extraordinary tribute to men who traveled thousands of kilometers to serve a King that most of them probably knew very little about.
When my children went, they were given the name of a distant relative to look up on the wall, as was everyone in their class. The fact that our uncommon surname was on the wall, with the same spelling, is testimony to just how many lives were wasted in the name of nation building.
We attended the last post, which had the same solemnity to it from Anzac Day's I've spent in places like Wakool and Barham/Koondrook. There was a much larger crowd than I had anticipated, and judging from the languages and accents there were people from Spain, Italy, Germany, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa present. The ceremony is very simple, there are no speeches, just the volunteers from the Fire Brigade bugling the Last Post and then a laying of wreaths.
At the conclusion of the ceremony there is no clapping or acknowledgment of the moment, people simply head back to wherever they came from. The walk back to our hotel left me wondering about why this war happened and what were people thinking at the time to travel from places like India, Nepal, Malaysia and Australia
The British still refer to the city by it's French name of Ypres, but these days it goes by it's Flemish name of Ieper.
The Grote Markt is impressive, particularly as the Cloth Hall was razed during the war, and as a Unesco World Heritage site it's worth visiting the city to see this building alone. The Cloth Hall was rebuilt around 1926 onwards but the rebuild is so close to other Gothic structures of that period that to the untrained eye there's no difference. If you want to see how the Cloth Hall looked at the end of the war, the CWGC has a photo at Cloth Hall.
Finally, if you do go to Ieper, and you want to buy chocolate, and let's face it, buying chocolate in Belgium is heaven for choco lovers, then you should go to the VanDaele store in the Grote Markt http://www.vandaele-ieper.be/. You really should.
The Menin gate is very moving, 55,000 soldiers without graves whose names are carved onto pretty much every wall at the gate. They came from all over the world to serve the British Empire; the memorial itself is maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission and is an extraordinary tribute to men who traveled thousands of kilometers to serve a King that most of them probably knew very little about.
When my children went, they were given the name of a distant relative to look up on the wall, as was everyone in their class. The fact that our uncommon surname was on the wall, with the same spelling, is testimony to just how many lives were wasted in the name of nation building.
We attended the last post, which had the same solemnity to it from Anzac Day's I've spent in places like Wakool and Barham/Koondrook. There was a much larger crowd than I had anticipated, and judging from the languages and accents there were people from Spain, Italy, Germany, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa present. The ceremony is very simple, there are no speeches, just the volunteers from the Fire Brigade bugling the Last Post and then a laying of wreaths.
At the conclusion of the ceremony there is no clapping or acknowledgment of the moment, people simply head back to wherever they came from. The walk back to our hotel left me wondering about why this war happened and what were people thinking at the time to travel from places like India, Nepal, Malaysia and Australia
The British still refer to the city by it's French name of Ypres, but these days it goes by it's Flemish name of Ieper.
The Grote Markt is impressive, particularly as the Cloth Hall was razed during the war, and as a Unesco World Heritage site it's worth visiting the city to see this building alone. The Cloth Hall was rebuilt around 1926 onwards but the rebuild is so close to other Gothic structures of that period that to the untrained eye there's no difference. If you want to see how the Cloth Hall looked at the end of the war, the CWGC has a photo at Cloth Hall.
Finally, if you do go to Ieper, and you want to buy chocolate, and let's face it, buying chocolate in Belgium is heaven for choco lovers, then you should go to the VanDaele store in the Grote Markt http://www.vandaele-ieper.be/. You really should.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
And finally
Just under two weeks to go before I get to spend four days intimately connected with my bike. This weekend will be the last long cycle and then it's time to get spare tyres, tubes and assorted accessories together.
Last weekend I was organised enough to take a trip through the Chilterns with my support crew, aka my wife, and spend the night in a lovely country hotel before coming back to London in the reverse direction.
Total distance was just short of 125 km and, being naive and not used to hills, I thought I'd probably make this in about 6 hours, including breaks. This didn't quite go to plan as I reached the 50 km mark about 3 hours and the first of five big climbs into the journey. After a rough estimate that 75km averaging 20 km/h would take just under 4 hours I merrily headed up the next big climb heading towards Oxford.
After another hour I'd kept my pace up at 20 km/h and felt that I'd still be on track to finish well within the time I'd set myself.
Country roads are quite narrow, especially when you have cars lurking on your shoulder and champing at the bit to get around. The A roads are alright as there's enough room to get past and the surfaces are reasonably good. Being without suspension, you do notice that there are all kinds of dips, missing bits of tarmac and some alarmingly large holes that you blithely clump over in your car. Most alarming in Britain is the placement of drainage grills about 50 cm in from the road side. These are lethal for cyclists. The road around them tends to crumble and when it's wet, later in the journey, they are like steel plated ice rinks.
Onto the B roads around Uffington, which has a famous "White Horse" cut into the hill side that dates back around 3,000 years, the road gets narrower and the quality deteriorates into a bumpy ride. Taking into account that I'd reached the 90km mark, it also meant a more cautious approach was required to ensure that I was able to avoid damage to myself or the bike.
About 10km later, and getting towards 4:30pm, the support crew informed me that pubs in Wiltshire usually stop serving food around 5pm. This was not good news as I was feeling pretty knackered and very hungry by this time, even after eating energy bars every hour.
4:45pm and it rained. Lots. And then more. At one point I had to stop as the rain was splattering my face so had it was hurting my eyes, forcing them closed and making it difficult for me to feel safe if I continue to ride. The rain also caused the sunscreen on my forehead to wash down into my right, with the subsequent chemical and sweat induced stinging of my eyeball. Another stop and a desperate attempt to rinse my eye and I was able to get back on the road.
After the final 2 climbs of 60 metres over 2km, I reached the hotel at 5:45 pm, about 7 1/2 hours after I set off. Dinner, bath and straight to sleep.
Next day, I picked up the trail in Henly-On-Thames and headed for home. 50km of mostly downhill travel took me just on 2 hours.
I'm ready for the four days of travel, certainly mentally prepared now, and know that physically I'm able to just get back on the bike and keep going.
Last weekend I was organised enough to take a trip through the Chilterns with my support crew, aka my wife, and spend the night in a lovely country hotel before coming back to London in the reverse direction.
Total distance was just short of 125 km and, being naive and not used to hills, I thought I'd probably make this in about 6 hours, including breaks. This didn't quite go to plan as I reached the 50 km mark about 3 hours and the first of five big climbs into the journey. After a rough estimate that 75km averaging 20 km/h would take just under 4 hours I merrily headed up the next big climb heading towards Oxford.
After another hour I'd kept my pace up at 20 km/h and felt that I'd still be on track to finish well within the time I'd set myself.
Country roads are quite narrow, especially when you have cars lurking on your shoulder and champing at the bit to get around. The A roads are alright as there's enough room to get past and the surfaces are reasonably good. Being without suspension, you do notice that there are all kinds of dips, missing bits of tarmac and some alarmingly large holes that you blithely clump over in your car. Most alarming in Britain is the placement of drainage grills about 50 cm in from the road side. These are lethal for cyclists. The road around them tends to crumble and when it's wet, later in the journey, they are like steel plated ice rinks.
Onto the B roads around Uffington, which has a famous "White Horse" cut into the hill side that dates back around 3,000 years, the road gets narrower and the quality deteriorates into a bumpy ride. Taking into account that I'd reached the 90km mark, it also meant a more cautious approach was required to ensure that I was able to avoid damage to myself or the bike.
About 10km later, and getting towards 4:30pm, the support crew informed me that pubs in Wiltshire usually stop serving food around 5pm. This was not good news as I was feeling pretty knackered and very hungry by this time, even after eating energy bars every hour.
4:45pm and it rained. Lots. And then more. At one point I had to stop as the rain was splattering my face so had it was hurting my eyes, forcing them closed and making it difficult for me to feel safe if I continue to ride. The rain also caused the sunscreen on my forehead to wash down into my right, with the subsequent chemical and sweat induced stinging of my eyeball. Another stop and a desperate attempt to rinse my eye and I was able to get back on the road.
After the final 2 climbs of 60 metres over 2km, I reached the hotel at 5:45 pm, about 7 1/2 hours after I set off. Dinner, bath and straight to sleep.
Next day, I picked up the trail in Henly-On-Thames and headed for home. 50km of mostly downhill travel took me just on 2 hours.
I'm ready for the four days of travel, certainly mentally prepared now, and know that physically I'm able to just get back on the bike and keep going.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Three Weekends to Go
That's right, just three full weekends to get out and make sure I'm fit enough for the Alzheimers fund raiser 500km in four days on a bike. Donations are going well, but there's a challenge now to hit my target before I head off on the 14th for Paris. See Just Giving for the details if you want to contribute to my cycle.
Yesterday was 65km in the saddle and the first long ride since our trip to Europe. Nuremberg, Prague, Berlin and Ieper for a very rounded, cultural expedition of castles, medieval street plans and a visit to the very sobering Menin gate where the Commonwealth War Graves Commission has a monument to the 55,000 soliders from the British Commonwealth who lost their lives during World War 1 and were never found.
Along the way was some very good food, good beer in the Czech Republic, good cakes in Dresden and Berlin and great breakfasts at the Guest House Union in Osthausen and the Hotel Ariane in the center of Ieper. Plenty of walking, our holidays do not generally involve time spent lying on the beach, so that helped keep the fitness levels up. Which was good; today I cycled to and from work again, another 40km on the bike, so I'm pretty certain that I can manage two days in a row!
Found a tremendous chocolate Artisan in the Grote Markt in Ieper; right next door to Leonidas. The Leonidas chocolates are reliable, but the ones from next door were exquisite - some of the best I've ever eaten.
Yesterday's trip took me out the A4 past Heathrow and onto the sleepy little village of Eton. I was quite taken with the sign on the gates by one of the playing fields "Boys must not/Use This Gate". I can imagine there's a challenge for "the boys" in using the caretakers gate to slip by on the way from a playing field as a "short cut" without getting caught. The village is quite stunning in character, and right beside the Thames. The way back took me past Slough, which is one large sprawling mass of office blocks, and back into Heathrow before heading home.
Definitely need some more stretching, I may have to invest in a rack just to loosen up some of my muscles. Either that or a masseuse with a meat tenderiser for a hand.
I received the room allocations for the trip - luckily I get to share with some complete random stranger for the 4 nights of the journey.
The last night is spent in Paris. I'm quite looking forward to a croissant in a Parisian cafe.
Yesterday was 65km in the saddle and the first long ride since our trip to Europe. Nuremberg, Prague, Berlin and Ieper for a very rounded, cultural expedition of castles, medieval street plans and a visit to the very sobering Menin gate where the Commonwealth War Graves Commission has a monument to the 55,000 soliders from the British Commonwealth who lost their lives during World War 1 and were never found.
Along the way was some very good food, good beer in the Czech Republic, good cakes in Dresden and Berlin and great breakfasts at the Guest House Union in Osthausen and the Hotel Ariane in the center of Ieper. Plenty of walking, our holidays do not generally involve time spent lying on the beach, so that helped keep the fitness levels up. Which was good; today I cycled to and from work again, another 40km on the bike, so I'm pretty certain that I can manage two days in a row!
Found a tremendous chocolate Artisan in the Grote Markt in Ieper; right next door to Leonidas. The Leonidas chocolates are reliable, but the ones from next door were exquisite - some of the best I've ever eaten.
Yesterday's trip took me out the A4 past Heathrow and onto the sleepy little village of Eton. I was quite taken with the sign on the gates by one of the playing fields "Boys must not/Use This Gate". I can imagine there's a challenge for "the boys" in using the caretakers gate to slip by on the way from a playing field as a "short cut" without getting caught. The village is quite stunning in character, and right beside the Thames. The way back took me past Slough, which is one large sprawling mass of office blocks, and back into Heathrow before heading home.
Definitely need some more stretching, I may have to invest in a rack just to loosen up some of my muscles. Either that or a masseuse with a meat tenderiser for a hand.
I received the room allocations for the trip - luckily I get to share with some complete random stranger for the 4 nights of the journey.
The last night is spent in Paris. I'm quite looking forward to a croissant in a Parisian cafe.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Summer in England - Today's the day
Such a rubbish summer here in the UK that there's now a group to Like on Facebook for that one sunny day in Blighty - today.
To be fair, it was a proper English summer day; slightly breezy, slightly overcast and temperatures in the low 20's centigrade. Perfect weather for cycling.
Only challenge on the way out, travelling west, was the wind blowing east. Total distance covered was 95km in just on 4 hours. You could fly to Iceland in this time, and I'm sure that your seat would still be comfortable at the end of the journey.
Today's journey was out to Uxbridge, then onto Gerrards Cross on the A40 and into High Wycombe. From there I went south towards Marlow, taking a detour towards Cookham, then Maidenhead to Slough, back to Uxbridge and then home.
High Wycombe was brilliant - 75 metre climb over 2km at an incline of 3.1%. Map My Ride were kind enough to rate this as a category 5 climb; I only have 4 of these on day 1 when we cycle to Dover. Average speed today was 24 km/h, and I'm able to maintain about 30 km/h on the flatter terrain. With just on two months until I spend four days in the saddle, I think I'm on track to be able to enjoy a day riding and not be totally knackered at the end of it.
I'd never heard of Cookham before, but it's a beautiful little town right on a section of the Thames where there's a chance of a billabong forming. Went past a pub called The Ferry, which has seating right by the river. Will book mark this for the next English Summer.
Even managed to get a little more tan-like color on my arms. Given that I'm quite pale and that my natural condition when exposed to the sun is to burn, I'm quite chuffed. May keep up this cycling lark after my charity ride, just so I can keep my arms from their natural pale state.
Capped the day off with a lovely grilled piece of lightly smoked salmon and a very Med style spread of sun dried tomatoes, artichokes and olives. Plus a very nice Cloudy Bay sauvingon blanc that I'd picked up at Waitrose. Perfect.
To be fair, it was a proper English summer day; slightly breezy, slightly overcast and temperatures in the low 20's centigrade. Perfect weather for cycling.
Only challenge on the way out, travelling west, was the wind blowing east. Total distance covered was 95km in just on 4 hours. You could fly to Iceland in this time, and I'm sure that your seat would still be comfortable at the end of the journey.
Today's journey was out to Uxbridge, then onto Gerrards Cross on the A40 and into High Wycombe. From there I went south towards Marlow, taking a detour towards Cookham, then Maidenhead to Slough, back to Uxbridge and then home.
High Wycombe was brilliant - 75 metre climb over 2km at an incline of 3.1%. Map My Ride were kind enough to rate this as a category 5 climb; I only have 4 of these on day 1 when we cycle to Dover. Average speed today was 24 km/h, and I'm able to maintain about 30 km/h on the flatter terrain. With just on two months until I spend four days in the saddle, I think I'm on track to be able to enjoy a day riding and not be totally knackered at the end of it.
I'd never heard of Cookham before, but it's a beautiful little town right on a section of the Thames where there's a chance of a billabong forming. Went past a pub called The Ferry, which has seating right by the river. Will book mark this for the next English Summer.
Even managed to get a little more tan-like color on my arms. Given that I'm quite pale and that my natural condition when exposed to the sun is to burn, I'm quite chuffed. May keep up this cycling lark after my charity ride, just so I can keep my arms from their natural pale state.
Capped the day off with a lovely grilled piece of lightly smoked salmon and a very Med style spread of sun dried tomatoes, artichokes and olives. Plus a very nice Cloudy Bay sauvingon blanc that I'd picked up at Waitrose. Perfect.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Sunday morning - easy like
Cool, but warm and no breeze; perfect weather for cycling. Did 50km today in just under 2 hours, even though I took a wrong turn and ended up about 10 km east of where I thought I was going! At least I was doing an out-and-back circuit and not looking to meet someone in a given place.
Mad moment as I went under a railway bridge and past a large set of buildings thinking "I really don't recall any of this last time I was out here". When I checked out the map at home, I discovered a large set of lakes running parallel with my route, some of them look quite nice plus there's a couple of boat clubs. Will check these out in the car another time.
Definitely need to invest in another handle bar holder for the Blackberry. At least when I'm doing the charity run I'll be with 30 others and someone is bound to know where we're going - that and the marked trail might keep me on the right path.
I've been cycling regularly for three months now and don't feel daunted at the prospect of spending 5 hours a day on my bike. Commuting is easier, I'm able to keep in the low 30 k's on the flatter stretches, even when there's a strong head wind, and the quickest trip was 48 minutes door to door, including stopping for lights.
Fund raising is still going on; I'm just on a third of the way to my target with a couple of months to go. As I've now paid for the trip all I need to do is raise the remaining part of my target. If you're reading this and want to contribute, use the Just Giving link on the right. UK taxpayers can Gift Aid their donations, making your contribution more effective.
Mad moment as I went under a railway bridge and past a large set of buildings thinking "I really don't recall any of this last time I was out here". When I checked out the map at home, I discovered a large set of lakes running parallel with my route, some of them look quite nice plus there's a couple of boat clubs. Will check these out in the car another time.
Definitely need to invest in another handle bar holder for the Blackberry. At least when I'm doing the charity run I'll be with 30 others and someone is bound to know where we're going - that and the marked trail might keep me on the right path.
I've been cycling regularly for three months now and don't feel daunted at the prospect of spending 5 hours a day on my bike. Commuting is easier, I'm able to keep in the low 30 k's on the flatter stretches, even when there's a strong head wind, and the quickest trip was 48 minutes door to door, including stopping for lights.
Fund raising is still going on; I'm just on a third of the way to my target with a couple of months to go. As I've now paid for the trip all I need to do is raise the remaining part of my target. If you're reading this and want to contribute, use the Just Giving link on the right. UK taxpayers can Gift Aid their donations, making your contribution more effective.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Weather - it's outside the door
And when you're on a bike, you're in the middle of it. Monday night ride home, raining when I left work, raining when I reached the half way point, still raining when I arrived home. Everything was soaked, at least the rain hood for my back pack keeps the rain out.
That's another 21km chalked up in preparation for the trip to Paris. 40km for Monday, rest Tuesday, back on the bike Wednesday, 80km this week.
Day 1 ride, found a map showing how tough it's going to be getting out of Blighty. MapMyRide says there are 5 category 5 climbs on the route shown. This means great pain. Mostly because the west side of London doesn't have that many hills and gentle climbs just on 400 metres in length don't prepare you for the reality of this nastiness.
At least the northern parts of France are nice and flat!
That's another 21km chalked up in preparation for the trip to Paris. 40km for Monday, rest Tuesday, back on the bike Wednesday, 80km this week.
Day 1 ride, found a map showing how tough it's going to be getting out of Blighty. MapMyRide says there are 5 category 5 climbs on the route shown. This means great pain. Mostly because the west side of London doesn't have that many hills and gentle climbs just on 400 metres in length don't prepare you for the reality of this nastiness.
At least the northern parts of France are nice and flat!
Friday, June 17, 2011
And it rained, and it rained and it rained
Morning cycle to work, light breeze, slightly overcast but perfect weather for cycling. Not too hot, not too cold. Good run in and made it in plenty of time for an 8am kick off. 50 minutes, averaging around 24km/h, so good time and I'm pleased with the training so far.
Rain clouds rolled in this afternoon, getting darker and darker and feeling more like a winter's afternoon. Then I noticed the sheets of rain start to drift across the city scape. Yes, it's Summer in London.
Left work at half five and it was raining. An hour later, it was still raining. Soaked, but happy, I parked my bike in the garage and deposited my kit in the wet room. Hopefully it's dry tomorrow as I'd like to get out for a longer training ride early doors.
That's 3 commutes this week for 120km; happy with that as my times are starting to average out at around 52 minutes.
If you haven't done so already, drop by my fund raising link in the next panel to sponsor me.
Rain clouds rolled in this afternoon, getting darker and darker and feeling more like a winter's afternoon. Then I noticed the sheets of rain start to drift across the city scape. Yes, it's Summer in London.
Left work at half five and it was raining. An hour later, it was still raining. Soaked, but happy, I parked my bike in the garage and deposited my kit in the wet room. Hopefully it's dry tomorrow as I'd like to get out for a longer training ride early doors.
That's 3 commutes this week for 120km; happy with that as my times are starting to average out at around 52 minutes.
If you haven't done so already, drop by my fund raising link in the next panel to sponsor me.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
More Rain on the way
Fully recovered from my man flu. Hmm, not sure if men are ever fully recovered, it's just one long list of moans.
Start again.
Determining that I'm now well enough to resume cycling, I've done a couple of cycles this week and found it exhilarating after a week of slumming on London Underground stuffed into spaces that I can't stand up straight in.
The roads are getting busy now that the weather's improved. If I leave after 7:30am I run into hoards of fair weather cyclists clogging up the road ways. I'm often surprised that people cycle fully kitted out with suits or dresses that are clearly meant for the office; it's quite the fashion parade out there. For me, by the time I reach my office, I need a stretch and then a shower to cool down and get myself clean so I don't offend my colleagues.
http://www.mapmyride.com is fab for keeping track of my rides. Ok, the app for the Bberry is a little flaky and keeps uploading my rides as runs (who's mad enough to run 20km to and from work each day?) and doesn't take into account waiting time when calculating average speeds. But it is cheaper than getting a fancy Garmin device with built in HRM. I'm hoping this will be my father's day present. Dreaming again!
Quickest ride to work so far is 48 minutes - and that included stopping for traffic lights. I overtook one guy on a three wheeler on 3 occasions as he kept running the lights. Average speed through London is a shade under 25 km/h as it's difficult to get a good run without being stopped by lights.
This weekend will be another run out to Amersham. I'll pop the details up along with the map so you can see how I'm doing.
Please continue to sponsor my ride.
Start again.
Determining that I'm now well enough to resume cycling, I've done a couple of cycles this week and found it exhilarating after a week of slumming on London Underground stuffed into spaces that I can't stand up straight in.
The roads are getting busy now that the weather's improved. If I leave after 7:30am I run into hoards of fair weather cyclists clogging up the road ways. I'm often surprised that people cycle fully kitted out with suits or dresses that are clearly meant for the office; it's quite the fashion parade out there. For me, by the time I reach my office, I need a stretch and then a shower to cool down and get myself clean so I don't offend my colleagues.
http://www.mapmyride.com is fab for keeping track of my rides. Ok, the app for the Bberry is a little flaky and keeps uploading my rides as runs (who's mad enough to run 20km to and from work each day?) and doesn't take into account waiting time when calculating average speeds. But it is cheaper than getting a fancy Garmin device with built in HRM. I'm hoping this will be my father's day present. Dreaming again!
Quickest ride to work so far is 48 minutes - and that included stopping for traffic lights. I overtook one guy on a three wheeler on 3 occasions as he kept running the lights. Average speed through London is a shade under 25 km/h as it's difficult to get a good run without being stopped by lights.
This weekend will be another run out to Amersham. I'll pop the details up along with the map so you can see how I'm doing.
Please continue to sponsor my ride.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Man flu stops training
Struck down with sniveling cold symptoms. Blocked nose, headache and general lethargy. Sounds like business as usual for most blokes.
Did 35 km on Saturday thinking this would shift the problem. It didn't. So this week I've not cycled to work and feel distinctly rubbish.
Hopefully this represents just a minor blip in my training for the ride to Paris.
Did 75km out and back to Amersham the weekend before. Discovered you really do need those energy bars when you hit the wall around the hour mark.
Am now using Map My Ride via the Blackberry to record my training. It's easier than trying to note down times and distances via the computer on the bike. For some reason the app thinks I weigh 220kg. This is great for pretending I'm burning more calories than I'm eating. I like the altitude tracking on the site and there's lots of ideas for rides of the daily distance I'll be doing, so I'm finding it very helpful.
Did 35 km on Saturday thinking this would shift the problem. It didn't. So this week I've not cycled to work and feel distinctly rubbish.
Hopefully this represents just a minor blip in my training for the ride to Paris.
Did 75km out and back to Amersham the weekend before. Discovered you really do need those energy bars when you hit the wall around the hour mark.
Am now using Map My Ride via the Blackberry to record my training. It's easier than trying to note down times and distances via the computer on the bike. For some reason the app thinks I weigh 220kg. This is great for pretending I'm burning more calories than I'm eating. I like the altitude tracking on the site and there's lots of ideas for rides of the daily distance I'll be doing, so I'm finding it very helpful.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Eh by gum, it's windy out here today
On Sunday the wind picked up and started to blow our trees and pot plants around our garden. Cycling in through Green Park today and there's large amount of detris in the car parks along the Mall. Seriously big sticks as well - like big enough to buckle a wheel and cause an involuntary dismount if you ran over one extra large lump lying on the pavement. Lots of dried seeds and tree flotsam in the gutters too. We do need a big thunder storm to wash this rubbish away, and soon (maybe tonight, maybe).
Face mask is therefore a totally inspired decision. Not only does it keep the obvious rubbish out of my lungs, but I feel that I'm not sucking in so much of the car fumes that I'm oxygen poor by the time I reach my destination.
Coming home and the wind was even stronger; a couple of times it felt like I was about to be blown into the Thames!
That's another 40km chalked off this week - I'm aiming for three consecutive rides totalling 120km this week and then a weekend excursion of around 70km to get myself into the swing of being on the road.
Face mask is therefore a totally inspired decision. Not only does it keep the obvious rubbish out of my lungs, but I feel that I'm not sucking in so much of the car fumes that I'm oxygen poor by the time I reach my destination.
Coming home and the wind was even stronger; a couple of times it felt like I was about to be blown into the Thames!
That's another 40km chalked off this week - I'm aiming for three consecutive rides totalling 120km this week and then a weekend excursion of around 70km to get myself into the swing of being on the road.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
There and back again
This week, three days of 40km cycles and a pick up in my average pace. I'm still able to keep at 25 km/h as I head home into a stiff evening breeze blowing down the Thames and along the Embankment. It's been a struggle to get this basic level of fitness, six weeks of huffing up and puffing down hills. I feel this week is a real milestone in sorting out my fitness.
Total time out on Friday was just under 50 minutes - fully 5 minutes quicker than a month ago and this included having to stop for more than the usual number of traffic lights.
Next goal is to cycle up to Notting Hill Gate without dropping below 25 km/h; once I can do that I'm set. If I leave after atbout 7:15am there are plenty of trucks heading into the West End which means ducking and diving around parked food deliveries and drivers suddenly popping out into your path.
Hyde Park in the evening is getting dangerous; Boris Bikers are often like an escargatoire of snails. They move slowly in front of you, gently weaving back and forth as you approach them and sometimes veer directly into your path! They mostly travel two abreast so they can chat with their cycling partner. Pulling out to get round them is difficult, especially when someone is steaming down the hill towards you. With the other side of the path full of pedestrians, I often end up travelling at 10km/h while waiting for the traffic to subside.
Fundraising is going well; I've added the Just Giving widget to my home page and my preparations feel all the more worthwhile as your generours donations arrive. This really helps me get out of bed and get onto my bike!
Total time out on Friday was just under 50 minutes - fully 5 minutes quicker than a month ago and this included having to stop for more than the usual number of traffic lights.
Next goal is to cycle up to Notting Hill Gate without dropping below 25 km/h; once I can do that I'm set. If I leave after atbout 7:15am there are plenty of trucks heading into the West End which means ducking and diving around parked food deliveries and drivers suddenly popping out into your path.
Hyde Park in the evening is getting dangerous; Boris Bikers are often like an escargatoire of snails. They move slowly in front of you, gently weaving back and forth as you approach them and sometimes veer directly into your path! They mostly travel two abreast so they can chat with their cycling partner. Pulling out to get round them is difficult, especially when someone is steaming down the hill towards you. With the other side of the path full of pedestrians, I often end up travelling at 10km/h while waiting for the traffic to subside.
Fundraising is going well; I've added the Just Giving widget to my home page and my preparations feel all the more worthwhile as your generours donations arrive. This really helps me get out of bed and get onto my bike!
Monday, May 16, 2011
Hayfever
We could do with some rain around these parts. It's been windy and dry for April and May, meaning a load of bitesize flotsam from the flora and fauna is available to eat whenever you step outdoors.
After one ride home the other week, I decided a face mask was in order; I'd spent most of the evening coughing and spluttering whilst trying to clear out whatever had lodged itself in my lungs. Reminded me of the time we went to Morocco; lot's of dust everywhere and a well developed nagging cough.
Unfortunately come Friday evening and my eyes are sore and nose blocked - yes, it's hayfever big time. First bout ever for me and I was most unhappy about it. Half a box of tissues over the weekend and not sleeping properly. Deeply unimpressed, although I now have first hand sympathy for what the other half of the family suffer from.
Another 40km today. Good time this morning, though I suspect it was wind assisted given the head wind on the way home. Kept at around 30 km/h in the way in with a high cadence and my legs didn't feel rubbery by the time I arrived at work. Home leg was harder, it's also uphill most of the way, but I managed 25 km/h although there were a few tricky rises where I couldn't quite keep the pace up that I was looking for.
To keep me on track, I think of staying in front of the "voiture balai"; although no one chasing me it helps having a mental image of being swept up and out of the circuit if I can't match the pace I've set myself.
After one ride home the other week, I decided a face mask was in order; I'd spent most of the evening coughing and spluttering whilst trying to clear out whatever had lodged itself in my lungs. Reminded me of the time we went to Morocco; lot's of dust everywhere and a well developed nagging cough.
Unfortunately come Friday evening and my eyes are sore and nose blocked - yes, it's hayfever big time. First bout ever for me and I was most unhappy about it. Half a box of tissues over the weekend and not sleeping properly. Deeply unimpressed, although I now have first hand sympathy for what the other half of the family suffer from.
Another 40km today. Good time this morning, though I suspect it was wind assisted given the head wind on the way home. Kept at around 30 km/h in the way in with a high cadence and my legs didn't feel rubbery by the time I arrived at work. Home leg was harder, it's also uphill most of the way, but I managed 25 km/h although there were a few tricky rises where I couldn't quite keep the pace up that I was looking for.
To keep me on track, I think of staying in front of the "voiture balai"; although no one chasing me it helps having a mental image of being swept up and out of the circuit if I can't match the pace I've set myself.
Friday, May 13, 2011
4 days on a bicycle
My decision to spend 4 days travelling 500 km to raise money for the Alzheimers society seemed sensible enough. After all, you're only doing 125 km a day; an avergate 20km an hour means you should spend about 6 hours in the saddle and the rest of the day will be spent with long lunches and relaxing evenings from about 5pm.
I'd forgotten about the bit that requires you to be fit enough to spend this time sat on a very hard object. That's right, the training bit. The last couple of weeks I've managed 40km a day, 20km each way to work and back, three times a week. Good progress, I hope. In June I'm aiming to put in a couple of late evening rides that add about 20km to the homeward trip.
This week I needed a new rear tyre, the old one had covered about 1,000km so it was pretty thin by the time I dumped it in the bin at the bike shop. Amazingly, the journey home was much easier! Guess I better read more of my bicycle maintenance book before I head off.
If you want to sponsor me, go to my link at to donate to this worthy cause!
I'm paying for the trip myself, so all your donations go directly to the charity.
I'd forgotten about the bit that requires you to be fit enough to spend this time sat on a very hard object. That's right, the training bit. The last couple of weeks I've managed 40km a day, 20km each way to work and back, three times a week. Good progress, I hope. In June I'm aiming to put in a couple of late evening rides that add about 20km to the homeward trip.
This week I needed a new rear tyre, the old one had covered about 1,000km so it was pretty thin by the time I dumped it in the bin at the bike shop. Amazingly, the journey home was much easier! Guess I better read more of my bicycle maintenance book before I head off.
If you want to sponsor me, go to my link at to donate to this worthy cause!
I'm paying for the trip myself, so all your donations go directly to the charity.
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