As the riders wandered down to breakfast on the final day, everyone seemed to be feeling a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The enthusiasm for riding 100 miles to Paris with the great Miguel Indurain was only slightly dampened by the aches and pains which had built up over the previous 2 days and the knowledge that this leg was comfortably the longest. Miguel was trying to make people feel better by trying to look nervous and rubbing his thighs but we weren’t buying it.
A chilly morning in Bernay. Miguel is 4th from right.
There was also a bit of a shock as we discovered that a September morning in Northern France is, as one memeber of the group put it, “effing freezing”. So the two groups set off with a few numb fingers and toes, but all agreed that riding through the morning mist with the sun slowly rising was a breathtaking experience. As we reached the morning rest stop, the day had started to warm up and, helped by a few strong coffees from the local ‘tabac’, we all started to thaw out.
Even cycling legends need a mid-morning coffee...
What a day! Despite the 5.15 start we left the Portsmouth Travelodge in high spirits. Although the Tall Stories support van was given the full drugs and weapons search by customs officials, we managed to get on the ferry first and secure the best seats. Incredibly the ferry even left 10 minutes early and we had a quick a fairly smooth journey across the channel. Yes, it was going to be a good day.
The first 21 mile leg to lunch flew by as we raced across a reasonably flat section of the Normandy countryside. The aches and pains of the South Downs drifted away and the world seemed wonderful place as we passed through the open fields and quaint villages in warm sunshine.
Lunch, as ever, was a treat with the Tall Stories boys providing homemade baguettes and all sorts of other goodies. Graeme, the slower* group’s guide, gave a short masterclass on drafting and working as a team, which meant that the overall pace of the day was significantly higher.
*I’ve referred to them as the slow group but I can guarantee that they’ve been travelling at a pace far higher than most people can manage – it’s just that the so-called fast group are full of annoying Ironmen and women.
After lunch, we had to deal with two reasonably difficult hills and the girls of the fast group continued to show some of the boys how it was done. It probably doesn’t help that Ken continues to use lunch and rest stops for a cheeky cigarette break but he knows the consequences. Marcus has no excuse other than eating his own bodyweight in food each evening.
It’s 9pm and I’m shattered so it’s not going to be the longest or most coherent post in the world.
We set off from Kingston at around 9.30 this morning after a certain Mr Daley Thompson arrived a little behind shcedule. we’ll forgive him. Anyway, the group gathered and everyone was in high spirits particularly as the skies were blue and the sun was shining.
The Team
Our friends from Tall Stories split us into a fast and slow group (though these would later prove to be misnomers) and we left towards Surrey and the North Downs.
