At 7.30am, following the difficult decision of whether to take the English or Continental breakfast (I of course combined both!), 61 amateur cyclists, largely disguised in head-to-toe lycra accessorised with the essential helmets and shades, pedalled off in early morning sunshine.
For drivers hurriedly trying to get to work, or drop off their children at school, overtaking a long line of eager cyclists was probably not much fun, however with perseverance on all sides and only the odd fraught exchange we were quickly able to get out of their way and leave behind the built-up surrounds of SE London. As we climbed steadily upwards we enjoyed views of the Queen Elizabeth Bridge and Thames Estuary; soon finding ourselves at our first 'pit stop' or 'regrouping point'.
Used on countless occasions in the pre-challenge tour itinerary had been the word 'undulating'. From here onwards we were to find out for ourselves what exactly this meant! We were also to discover Gideon, our Tour Manager's, clever use of words in the briefing sessions prior to each restart. You could not imagine how many ways he found to either skirt around the issue of 'hills' or to portray them as beautiful features we might happen to have the fortune of coming across on route!
Despite the people of Rochester's reported fetish for removing, or at least rearranging, the Classic Tour route markers we successfully navigated our way passed the castle and onto the quiet country lanes of Kent.
Too soon however we were to discover the incredible dangers these lanes could also pose. Whether or not that be a sudden tight bend or a patch of loose gravel, concentration needed to be high at all times. Our hearts went out to John when he and his beloved bike suffered an unfortunate parting of the ways on one such stretch. To our relief John came out of it as only a 'walking wounded', however the force of the impact was considerable, hence the need for hospital intervention. Obviously to hear later that day that he had been patched up and discharged was great news; however the reality that his challenge might be over almost before it had begun was very sad indeed. A friendlier man you could not meet. His boyish charm and clear excitement to be riding such an event evident from the very first moment I met him. How cruel it was that his dream was over in just a flash.
Refuelled with soup and baguettes in a lovely riverside pub garden we resumed the day around 3pm with only 23 of the day's 73 mile route to complete. Short, sharp inclines had certainly been the order of the day, and continued to present themselves right to the very last.
Even after enjoying a lovely extended 'pit stop' overlooking the Shuttle Terminal of Folkestone, safe in the knowledge (or so we thought!) that the descent into Dover had being described something on the lines of 'long and very gradual with an occasional need to pedal' you guessed it there came one final abrupt obstacle! Crying out in laughter for want of any alternative, I just cranked down the gears and pounded those pedals as hard as I could. Again, although steep, it was at least short - 300 to 400 metres max. I then rewarded myself with a 'tow' down to the Port in the slipstream of a fellow rider.
With dusk fast approaching, a finishing line against the backdrop of the White Cliffs was a nice sight. As for the 'surreal' experience of cycling onto the lorry deck of a cross-channel ferry, what can I say, it was definitely a first!
Having heard earlier this afternoon that P&O had rescheduled us on a later ferry, we disembarked in Calais in complete darkness. After a short but at times precarious cycle around the Port to reach the terminal building, dodging between HGVs as we went, we transferred onto coaches for the lengthy transfer to Dieppe. The original route for this event had been to cycle from London to Newhaven and take the ferry to Dieppe. Unfortunately due to changes in the ferry schedule, a suitably timed crossing from Newhaven was no longer possible therefore our route had been diverted via Dover.
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