Leading the Team astray on Departure

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A  quiet Sunday morning, so although we were a little slow getting ready, the Team departed only a few minutes late, Ben having started to develop what the Navy called, and probably do still call, Officer-like Qualities, sometimes referred to as Oily Queues.  In other words he is taking charge in a useful way.

The morning ritual of up, pack, breakfast, checking the bike tyre pressures, preparing the electrolyte drinks, creaming up and getting psyched up is becoming something of a routine but this morning there was chirpiness about; the Team had done 100 miles the previous day and it seemed to have lifted them.  Either that or they have all moved one step closer to mania in synchrony.

Pearsey was active early, as usual, and went for a test ride on his newly refurbished bike, declaring it spot on.  Had I not spotted that he’d somehow managed to get one of his shiny new pedals dirty he might not have told us that he’d fallen off in the process, again.  Dave appears to be keeping ahead of the pack as far as falls are concerned but he takes them cheerfully and clearly lacks the sensitivity to feel pain.

Dirty new pedal

"Creaming Up"

Unlike “normal” pedal cycles, these racing bikes have special pedals into which cleats fitted to the bottom of the rider’s shoe click into place.  This works well for pulling up as well as pushing down when you’re moving but makes falling down inevitable if you topple because you can’t get your shoe disconnected from the pedal quickly enough to put a foot down.

Unfortunately however the quietness of the Sunday morning, apart from Pearsey’s contribution to team Humour, led Ben to relax just a little too much as he set off, leading the Team on its way.  It’s one of the pitfalls of any departure in France, which is to set off on the wrong side of the road.

Ride on the Right!

Somehow Ben managed to lead the Team out of the Hotel car park, onto the link road, turned right at a junction then all the way clockwise around a roundabout before an on-coming car in the distance persuaded him to change sides.  The Team had followed like sheep, despite clues like the big blue arrow signs on the roundabouts, such was the hypnotic power Ben had over them.  Lots of hilarity and no harm was done.  Fortunately I was in the right place, pre-positioned for a departure photograph, to capture the scene for posterity.

This was to be my quiet morning.  No shopping to do apart from some baguettes, then I could park up somewhere for almost a hour before it would be time to catch up at the first drink stop.  Unfortunately there are very few village Boulangerie left in France these days, such has been the pressure of competition from supermarkets, which close on Sundays anyway so it began to look like i was on mission impossible.  We were skirting around a biggish town, Ham, so I diverted into the Centre Ville to hunt one down.

It was carefully camouflaged but I found it and bought my five baguettes.  “Cinque  Monsieur?”  said the Lady in the shop, clearly thinking I was mad, which I’m not, or at least not yet, though I am getting there.  It must be mixing with these barmy cyclists which is doing it.  “Yes” I replied.  My schoolboy French is a little rusty.

Chips for mid-morning refreshment

I was by now ahead of the pack and decided to keep going to check out the planned first drink stop, which was not too far away.  I then got a text from Tom asking if I could please get some ice for the drink stop.  The difficult I do immediately, the impossible takes a little longer.  How on earth could I buy ice and something to carry it in on a Sunday morning in France?  “I’ll try” I replied.

Fortunately I had passed a supermarket  on the way out of Ham which appeared to have been open, so back I went.  It was quite a big one and anticipating more such requests I invested in a small plastic cool box.  I also found a selection of plastic bags to put the ice in.

Unfortunately I could find no bagged ice despite resorting to an agonising attempt to converse with the Butcher, who clearly could not speak any English at all and I could remember the word for ice.  My French is so rusty I resorted to pointing at the water bottles in my trolley and pretending the shiver.  It didn’t work.

After wasting valuable time in these efforts it transpired they didn’t stock bagged ice and nor did they sale bags of frozen peas, the classic alternative.  Frozen cauliflower was available but didn’t seem likely to work very well as a cold compress so I settled for two bags of frozen French fries as the best available option.  I also made what turned out to be a mistake of topping up our supplies of bottled water while I was in a supermarket with six gallon-sized bottles.

While I was deep in non-conversation with the Supermarket Butcher the Team had, unknown to me,  cycled by, spotting the car, which presumably gave Tom some hope that I was on the ice case.  Within a mile or two however Paul had his second puncture of the morning and was repairing it as I came upon him.   I dare say he was quite glad to see me.

Will shortly after destroying the local environment at the drinks stop

The routine of mounting his bike on the rack and shuffling things around to create room for him was becoming well practised and we were soon on our way, albeit both with oily hands from finishing off his under tube swap.  It had been his back wheel which had punctured.  Moving the cargo around to get Paul was a bit more of a struggle than usual due to buying all that extra water and he very nearly had to ride on the bike rack.

We now had to make rapid progress to make the first drink stop and Paul would probably have struggled to hold on the the bike rack.  We drove through some lovely woodland while doing so, where French families were enjoying their weekend, fishing from small lakes scattered within the woods. It had a calming effect and I slowed down.

Eventually we did catch the Team up but it took a while and they had clearly been pressing onwards quite successfully.   They pulled over for their drinks break as soon we came up behind them; they had ridden for a full two and a half hours and were still slightly short of the planned place for stopping but Tom, needing his frozen chips, was not the only one ready for a bit of rest and some more liquid.  There were some bushes handy for getting rid of fluid too, which came in handy.

Idylic place for a drinks stop

Off they went, Including Paul with his back wheel properly in place again while I parked up where I was to watch the world go by.  We were by a canal and it was a peaceful and attractive place.  After a while a huge barge came past, similar to the big ones you see on the Rhine and Mosel, on which the skipper’s family live as they ply their trade around the European waterways.  As many of them do, this one had a small car on the afterdeck, for the family’s use when they are moored up.

I had my 45 minutes of peace, tapping away to write the first part of this report, then it was time to start catching up again.  I caught Paul up fairly quickly; he was still moving but very slowly and clearly somewhat painfully.  He had done enough for the day; his dodgy knee clearly needed the rest of the day off at least.  So once again I shuffled things around to make room for him.

Banana and crisp sandwich

At every refreshment stop we have, it turns out to be necessary to repack to some extent but I’m getting the hang of it.  We have also started finding things which had disappeared, like a supply of travel wash liquid which Hilary had provided for the Team’ use.  It must be quite unusual for a team of predominantly blokes to get visibly excited about the discovery of a bottle of washing liquid but I think they’re on their last set of riding gear.  They were actually looking forward to being able to wash them this evening – and a glass of champagne.  We’re in Epernay tonight so an exception to the abstention rule is being made.

Urban Lunch Stop

We found a pleasant spot in a small town for lunch where there were benches as some grass to stretch out on.  The Team were ravenous and at the same time desperate to flop down for a few minutes.  Flopping got priority, which speaks volumes.

Out came the picnic table and the familiar offerings of ham, cheese, tomatoes and baguettes, with the addition of a bit of salad for those who wanted it.  Hazel’s Banana Butties were popular again and inventiveness has broken out about what else came be inserted into the baguette either as an alternative or at the same time.  Nutella seems to be the favourite accompaniment, or sometimes banana goes in one end and ham and/or cheese in the other.  I got Hilary’s bread knife out for the first time today but I’m going to have to hide it again tomorrow; it’s a very sharp bread knife, too much of a lethal object when they’re in this tired and impatient state.

There just happened to be a public toilet where we parked up but those of you who holiday in France will be aware that French public toilets have their own particular ambience and usually also carry a patina indicating great age without ever being properly cleaned.  They are places of resort in desperation rather than facilities to use out of choice.

Flop first, food later

There must have been something in last night’s meal in combination with the morning’s exercise which drove several of the men in the Team to resort to their use today.  The contingency toilet roll which my wife kindly provided suddenly came into very popular demand.  So after a very pleasant lunch break, also a source of considerable relief for most of the Team, the toilets were left with a new dimension of ambience, even by the standards of French toilets, and, apart from Paul and his dodgy knee, they were off yet again.  Paul and I drove on and then parked up in the shade when an opportunity presented because it was a warm day and we were blessed at last with a little sunshine breaking through the grey sky of the morning.

Making real progress

No shopping to do so we hung back in case of a call for assistance, then overtook to get ahead to look for a suitable drink stop.  By this time the Team would be within 20 miles of Epernay, our overnight stop, and we were looking for a roadside cafe or bar where coffees could be bought, since this had worked well as the previous day’s last stop.

No such luck today, there were only small hamlets in the last bit of the run it to Epernay so we had to settle for a roadside picnic area, where once more we got out the water, the various electrolyte powders they use to make up drinks for the drinking bottles they mount on the bikes.  Then Paul and I were free to go ahead to the Hotel to check in.

Therein lay a problem since by a misunderstanding Ben had booked five double rooms, which meant that three pairs of blokes would have been sharing a double bed.  They are friends but not that friendly so some purposeful negations were required to secure three extra rooms, which fortunately we were able to do at modest extra cost. Their reputations were spared.

Four winks is better than none

It was useful having Paul available to unload the baggage because the Hotel had no grond floor reception and no trolleys.  There was a lift but I had to get in and hold the door open button while Paul passed the bags in and I tried to stack them one handed.  Needless to say the stacking wasn’t very tidy and Paul decided he would wait for the lift to come back and I set off.

Approaching Epernay, the vineyards of Champagne

This wasn’t clever of either of us because when I got to the First Floor, where Reception was, I couldn’t hold the button and unload the lift, any more than it would have been possible for me to load it single handed.  So back down I went to collect Paul.

It had been a tiring day for both of us, that’s our excuse for being slow on the uptake.  We made up for it by moving the bags up to one of the rooms on the floor where we would all be sleeping after checking in,  to make it easy for the Team when they arrived.

Once the Team arrived they were therefore presented with a room key and taken up directly up to the third floor to collect their baggage and thence only a short distance to their room – and probably then straight into the shower.   I parked the car, a little problematic because the car park was under the Hotel and Hilary’s big Volvo was even taller than usual because of the roof box.   The sign said 2 meters maximum headroom and our car was taller than that but fortunately nothing collided.  We were checking in a bit earlier than the previous day and there was even time for the keen ones to wash out some of their dirty cycling gear.

Liz trying hard to out a brave face on the prospect of another long, long cycle ride.

Then it was off into town to find food.  Tired but fulfilled, another 90 miles clocked up, the team are doing well.  Liz won the Yellow Shirt Award today for doggedly keeping going, Tom went from the high to the low by winning the Worst Dressed Rider Award because of his conspicuously grubby shorts and I can’t remember who got the other prizes; I was a bit tired by this time too.

As a postscript, Ben got a phone call at 5.30am on Day Four, poor chap.  I’d woken early and decided to go down to the car to get my camera to load these pictures and collect the eating utensils to wash them up.  As I left the Hotel I neglected to check whether I would be able to get back into the door, which clicked shut behind me.  Ben was very understanding and cheerfully came down to let me in.  That’s probably another aspect of Oily Queues he’s demonstrating.

Now I know I keep banging on about this but the Team are doing an endurance cycle ride for charity and this is not remotely a holiday for them.  They are paying all their own costs and every penny you donate will go to the two cancer charities which they are supporting.  So if you’re enjoying these Reports of even if you’re not, have sympathy for the real efforts they are making, day after day to ride these very long distances and visit their Virgin Money Giving website to make a donation – or another one, there’s no limit on the number of times you can donate and no donation is too small.