cycling
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It’s Been a While
My elbows nudge into the hoods and my head hangs over my front wheel. I haven’t ridden in this kind of heat since southern Europe on last year’s Transcontinental. I’m empty and cramping, absolutely ruined. This is the second time Simon and I have had to ride straight to ferry check-in after what should have…
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Island Hopping
I make coffee in the almost-light that waits for sunrise. Shouldering the bike down the front steps into a silent city, the main road empty other than a gang of gulls ransacking the bins outside the local chippy. Urban foxes, an air of insolence and disobedience skulk suburban streets. Without the white noise drizzle of…
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Grey
No one bats an eyelid, raises an eyebrow, or tuts when a suggestion is made to drop down from the Downs to find coffee and some tarmac, maybe even the coastal suburbs to home. A quiet consensus. The weather hasn’t entirely matched the forecast, overcast has rather been cold driving drizzle. We’ve slipped and sludged…
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The Old Ways and New Ways
Jump on a train west to Chichester to make the most of the forecast weather. Head for home with the wind on my back and scudding clouds and an intermittent shadow for company, looking for a route with as little tarmac as possible rather than the shortest way. Out of the city on back streets…
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Upturned
Crossing the bridge over the river the thick cold mist bites. Back in the village frozen droplets clung to the trees lining the road out. The cemetery across the field dissolving in the low cloud. It’s the kind of cold that freezes your sinuses and makes your eyes water. The grey sky is flat and…
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That didn’t go to plan
Pull my phone from gilet pocket and tap WhatsApp. Aborted. Legs and head both gone. Heading back to Dieppe, should be there by 1pm. Three course lunch and beers? Hit send. Put phone back in pocket. Turn around and roll back down the hill. Not even half way up the climb from Grandcourt towards Blangy-sur-Bresle…
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De la Med à la Manche – part II
Wednesday It’s pitch black when I wake up, I can hear rain outside. This isn’t surprising as it was forecast. I doze off again but my 6am alarm rouses me again. I need to get up and be on the road by seven today. I’ve got a very hilly 200km to ride, a good way…
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De la Med à la Manche – part I
Saturday I tap the gear shift button. Nothing. Fucking fuck! I’ve just snagged the di2 cable in the seat clamp rebuilding the bike outside Montpelier airport and now I have no gears. Or rather I have one gear: 48×17 or maybe 19 by the looks of it. That’ll be OK today which is pretty much…
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Transcontinental no.7 – Part 2
I pull into a tiny petrol station in the small Croation border town of Ilok to buy water as I’m almost out. I would have bought some before leaving Serbia but I spent the last of my Dinar on breakfast in Novi Sad. For some reason I assumed as I was now into the EU…
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Transcontinental no.7 – Part 1
This is just the stuff I can remember and may not necessarily be the correct order of events. Serbia in particular is a bit of a blur. In no way do I promise to be a very reliable narrator. – – – – – I stare out across dawn over the Black Sea on the…
the man from icon 