Bristol (UK) - Calais (France)
The months of h
I crawled up the hill on my fully laden steed (that appeared to weigh as much as a small car) to the 'official' starting point where all my best Bristol mates had gathered to see me off early on a crisp february morning. Amidst a great start banner and some suitably dry english wit, I starte d cranking the pedals, and with a lump in my throat from the touching send off and a big grin spread across my face, I headed out into a generous splattering of British winter sunshine and an imminent future that I dreamed would hopefully comprise some of the most challenging, interesting and defining moments of my existence
ard graft and living out of all my mate's spare rooms were finally over (Andy, Sal, Mulvs, Sam & Rich - much appreciated!!) and my emotions were evenly split between a kid on christmas eve and the same kid on the first day of big school.
I crawled up the hill on my fully laden steed (that appeared to weigh as much as a small car) to the 'official' starting point where all my best Bristol mates had gathered to see me off early on a crisp february morning. Amidst a great start banner and some suitably dry english wit, I starte d cranking the pedals, and with a lump in my throat from the touching send off and a big grin spread across my face, I headed out into a generous splattering of British winter sunshine and an imminent future that I dreamed would hopefully comprise some of the most challenging, interesting and defining moments of my existence
As I rode off the familiar landmarks slowly dissipated until all was new and exciting and I followed a typically British canal, and all the interesting communities that come with it, halfway to London. As I camped on a windswept moor that night, thoughts raced back and forth of relief and excitement at finally being underway and intimidation of exactly what it was I had signed myself up for.
But before long they were on the backburner as the hills and rain arrived, the legs screamed and the fingers and toes stung with numbness. This led to an enthusiastic personal berating over the choice to train and physically prepare once I hit the road, and thankfully not a moment too soon was I back in the warmth at Hannah and Niels's place, before more great (read: flat) canal riding into London to spend a few days with little sis and take in some of the great culture the massive capital has to offer.
But before long they were on the backburner as the hills and rain arrived, the legs screamed and the fingers and toes stung with numbness. This led to an enthusiastic personal berating over the choice to train and physically prepare once I hit the road, and thankfully not a moment too soon was I back in the warmth at Hannah and Niels's place, before more great (read: flat) canal riding into London to spend a few days with little sis and take in some of the great culture the massive capital has to offer.
A week of London fun over and it was time to get going in earnest - the hilly back roads through surrey and kent providing ample sustenance for the legs to try remember how this game works as well as some great vistas of England that were refreshingly new to me.
Given my nickname of 110%, a new notable challenge was also arising to learn to slow down and engage in my surroundings - this is no bike race and the humble steed was just the ideal tool for immersive travel - after 15 years of riding many types of bikes as hard as I could this was going to be some adjustment!
Given my nickname of 110%, a new notable challenge was also arising to learn to slow down and engage in my surroundings - this is no bike race and the humble steed was just the ideal tool for immersive travel - after 15 years of riding many types of bikes as hard as I could this was going to be some adjustment!
A few frosty nights of wild camping later and I found myself pedaling off dry land and onto a Calais bound ferry, the journey now feeling well and truly underway, as I briefly considered that it would likely be more than a year before I again found myself in a country that natively spoke my language.
Unfortunately there was to be no iconic farewell watching the white cliffs of Dover fade away as the channel was shrouded in a thick fog, so I took some consolation in a hearty english breakfast en route instead and daydreamed of the enthralling and intimidating unknowns of the journey that lay ahead.