Weds 14th August - 138km

Absolutely exhausted. One of the toughest days riding I've done. Not sure if it was because of the extra weight on my bike or the just the sheer shock to the system but it nearly killed me. Along one of the many long straight uphill climbs that seemed eternal, the crest seeming to move away rather than closer to me, I pondered exactly how much weight I was carrying. My tent is not the lightest (I went budget as always...), and with more tools than I'd usually carry, I was laden like a forlorn mule. Added to that, I am no mountain goat. You look at the climbers in the Tour and they're around 55kg at the lightest. I'm around 103 kg so in all I reckon there was around 160kg to haul against gravity. And I felt every gram.

Alas, I don't want to moan, it was a jubilant feeling when i first spotted the sea in the distance. As kids, my brothers and I would always have a competition to see who could spot the sea first and i was preying to catch a fleeting glimpse of that vast blue expanse as my pain would soon be over.

After setting off relatively early from my brother's house in north London I thought it would be a doddle. 80miles? I could that in my sleep and I also knew the roads so thought i wouldn't get lost. My mate Chris regularly slates my sense of direction which I always contest citing my many years of watching Ray Mears, however in this instance I couldn't find my way out of a paper bag and was heading the wrong way back into the city.

After righting myself, I ended up on the lovely A2. The hard shoulder to be precise. Dodging the broken glass and other detritus cast aside from motorway pile-ups, I crawled it of one of the main arteries into the capital. I must say at this stage, probably shouldn't for safety reasons, but cycling through the blackwall tunnel is fun! Get caught in the slipstream of
a haulage truck and you're tickling 50kmph being sucked in its wake. It is though difficult to hold your breath for 5 minutes in the subterranean fug so athsmatics take heed.

I made it as far as bexleyheath and thought, there must be an easier way than this. I did a bit of crude bodging on my bike in damson park - very nice if you're ever in the area. Whilst sat looking at my bike, a jogger sweated up to me and asked whether I'd sell my bike?. No I said. Im riding it. You sure? He said. Yup... Ah well I fought you was selling it. Not wishing to proliferate stereotypes but I did laugh to myself at the thought of some cockney geezer out on a run in his Trevor Francis track suit trŷing to buy a bike off of a man in a park! That's east London for you. Sorry Jo lamps, no offence..

The rest of the day was up and down. Had a brief collapse in a field. Ate some dates. Had an electrolyte tablet and my vision soon restored. Had lunch in Strood. The arse end of Kent. I thought Kent was Gods country? He's no god of mine.

Finally arrived in Dover after 130 odd kilometres. Ate 2600 kcals of nasty Morrisons pasta, felt sick and boarded the ferry. Treated myself to beer whilst watching my dads fave, dire straights on the wall mounted tv, then the eagles! I've only got 12 songs on my iPhone to listen to...massive planning faux-pas. I would love to listen to some eagles... And I didn't realise the drummer was the singer?! There's a useless fact for you.

Arrived in Calais under darkness. Cycled into town, thought French roads are so awesome. I've missed them so much...Flat and smooth. The french certainly know how to engineer a road. i found a cracking spot to camp in thicket/coppice/bush by a roundabout. Wasn't sure if it was a local dogging spot but I took my chances. This trip was about broadening my horizons. Maybe this was on of my horizons?....

Tent up, well hidden I drifted off to sleep... What a day. Cream crackered. The best night sleep in yonks!

Allez!!