Day 1: Saturday 10 July 2010

Oh my god, the rain!!! But I’ll get to that in a minute. Hehe.
It is a marvellous thing, the experience of travel, but no matter what you do with the experience, nothing prepares you for that moment of good-bye.
...Jesus Christ, where has all this rain come from? (now I guess we’ll see just how good this tent is... I hope it holds out...)
There was a brief moment before I left this morning when I really had to question whether I was doing the right thing. Aly all bandaged up, my adventure into lands where I could hardly say hello (got over that one it’s ‘ello in France and Belgium...), and the excitement had given way to the usual butterflies in the stomach. But something pushed me on. (Arrogance probably, stupidity maybe.) I tried to busy myself around the house; help out as best I could, pack, pack and repack... It was never ending. (Not to dissimilar to this rain. Oh great, wet feet!) But on I went.
It is a terrible time, goodbyes, and I’m not particularly good at it. I don’t like the upset, but I hate even more leaving loved ones, familiar faces, and familiar places. But that’s what adventures are, new. The road was kind and the weather beautiful (unlike now!). Friends, cousins, brothers were waiting and so I looked nervously to the challenge ahead, and the rally point on Portsdown Hill.
It was a fantastic day for a ride, and I think that if you view day in the same way, then you won’t go far wrong. The sun was shining and, I know Aly has already asked me and maybe I was a little over excited, but there must have been 40 bikes; clubs and solos. It was a fantastic sight to see, and we rode.
Having ridden this far with Rob, it is only right that on the day I leave the riding order should place Rob and I side-by-side. We always ride together, even when we are out with the club (that was the club’s choice not ours, we just did as we were told). And inevitably when things go to shit, as they invariably do, we were there together. I rode up alongside Cooler when we got to Wickham and said I’d get ahead and get a couple of pictures as the whole train of bikes came around the road, I knew it would make a great picture and really wanted a good shot. And there it was. As the whole force of thunder roared round the corner and up the hill to Waltham Chase...
We made it into the square and as we passed the Crown in the centre of Bishop’s Waltham, my heart sank. Ro’s bike had died. Nothing for it, but to laugh at such a great photo opportunity. (He won’t thank me for that.) Rob growled, I laughed and Golly pulled up, and set about pulling things this way. Now I’m no slouch, I think I’m good at what I do, but there is something about watching a man at work on a bike. It was a marvel. Half an hour past, the engine fired and we were off.
Please don’t get me wrong. I have nothing but admiration for Rob and there’s nobody I’d rather have beside me in a tight corner, he’s seriously one of a kind. So bike fixed we were on our way once again. We missed the rest of the run, but it’s not always about being there for the good, it’s about being there no matter what and that’s what we have. So we rode on to the school. Hot as the sun and wet as the ocean. Baked by the midday sun. It was great.
The school was a bit of a blur, I was there and then just 30 minutes later, I was back in my lid and raring to go. It was one of those moments again, and I really didn’t want to spend any more time over good-byes than I really had to. The school put on a fantastic event, people spending their money is the best way possible, supporting the kids. I shook hands with more people than I care to remember, but it was a moment to remember. The nerves jumped in my stomach, my legs ached and for the second time in a day, I could feel a lump rise in my throat. Time to go. So I did.
It’s a strange feeling, like nothing you’ll know, if you don’t ever ride a bike, yet once I’d left the school, my chest puffed, my chest opened, and my mind cleared. I was on the road once again.
I have always been apprehensive about the channel tunnel, but i arrived 20 minutes late, yet nobody seemed to mind. That put me at ease straight away, and 30 minutes later we were in France. The run had officially begun.