france
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Flanders To The Alps: Notes On A Tour [Part 1]
Day 1 – Hastings, UK to Gent, Belgium (216km) Meet George and Vic at Brighton station. First train cancelled due to two pissed teenagers being dicks. That’s our time buffer gone. Meet Mark at Hastings station. Tailwind across Romney Marsh, heads down, smash it to Dover (didn’t need to worry about that lost half hour).…
![Flanders To The Alps: Notes On A Tour [Part 1]](https://themanfromicon.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/img_20180729_232024_644.jpg?w=1024)
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Seven hundred
Orange-pink cracks of light in the murky grey sky to the east contradict the weather forecast I saw the day before. This is good. If it lasts. The predicted headwind is present though. By 35km I’m cowering in a bus stop on a junction, 5km later when I spot an open café I’m wringing water…
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Newhaven – Welcome to England
Rolling off the ferry at Newhaven it’s lashing down, absolute stair-rods. I get to the train station only to discover there are no trains this weekend. It may be the metal roof of the station but the rain sounds like it’s getting harder. I zip up my waterproof jacket and pull up my buff. Four…
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Scaling Up
I’ve written about mapping out rides before but plotting a route for the Transcontinental is bigger than any previous way finding I’ve needed to do by roughly a factor of ten. Both in terms of distance and the number of countries involved. I’ve been drawing a line across Europe. Superimposing a single simple line across…
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Five Sevenths
Half way up the hill out of town I spot a bench nestled under some trees. Shade, at last. I pull over, lean my bike against one end of the bench, sit down, and take a swig of water. A few minutes earlier back down in the town a bar owner had kindly filled my…
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North Country
Heading south to pay a visit to the north country. Drifting off the ferry in a sleep-deprived daze and heading up the hill on autopilot. Riding in a puddle of light and easy familiarity in the silent blackness, red lights blinking atop the wind turbines I can’t see, beacons out across the coastal plateau. Knowing…
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Bunking Off (Reprise)
One last continental fling before the clocks change, a ride half done before daylight. Guiding the girl on her way to Paris from Oxford to the Avenue Verte by the lakes. As our routes part company we wish her luck and disappear into the valley, into the silence of the darkness. Stopping, we search for…
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Three is the Magic Number
A while back my friend Ollie from work said he wanted to ride up Mont Ventoux for his fortieth birthday. I mentioned that my friends Jo, George and Oli had, a couple of years before, ridden all three road ascents and joined something called Le Club Des Cingles Du Mont Ventoux. I pointed him in…
the man from icon 