Day Ride in France

The long awaited Day Ride in France!  It was in fact an exceedingly long day: one of the cats woke us at 2am following which we did not get back to sleep. The alarm went off at 04.15 and we did not get home until 00.15 the next morning!

Adam and I took the train to St Pancras where we transferred onto the High Speed service to Dover. We spotted Sonia while walking through the station and found Jurek already settled on the train. Arthur and Tony joined us at Ebbsfleet. The weather from home was damp and foggy and it didn't look much better in Dover.

We went through several check-in formalities and found our assigned lane to board the ferry. We then realised it would be at least an hour before we would be cleared to board!

Sonia and I had been half-jokingly grumbling about the lack of coffee in our system all the way to Dover, so this was a good opportunity to remedy that! We abandoned the boarding lane in favour of Costa to fill in our waiting time to good effect. 

Once on the ferry, we stowed our bikes away. The ferry carries a flimsy old rack with space for 8 bikes. Two bikes were already there when we arrived (later to be identified as Mark's and Gail's). There isn't much to prevent the bikes from moving around during the crossing, potentially even coming off the rack altogether. Jurek experimented with a small bungee cord to hold his front wheel in the rack but decided even that might not help much. 

The crossing itself was smooth and uneventful, although it was with some concern we noticed the darkening skies as we approached France. 

Coming into Calais port, we told ourselves the ferry windows are tinted so it's probably much brighter out there than it looks like from in here - right? And the Norwegians (trusted far and above the UK's Met Office with regard to preparing clothing and bikes for night rides over the past several years) had said this:

So the worst that might happen was damp roads after morning showers, but otherwise great cycling weather. Right?

Let's draw a visual veil over the first hour's proceedings. Suffice it to say, the rain stung and the headwind was brutal. The group got split up while negotiating a series of twists and turns where the riverside path turned inland under a railway crossing. Jurek, Sonia and I huddled in the tunnel looking somewhat glumly at the rain but then fell into conversation with a charming if eccentric old gentleman passing through who conveyed the fact that his cousin lives in Oxford and he was off the very next day to visit him and did we need directions to Guines? His dog took a shine to Sonia so was in no hurry to leave us. Meanwhile, Jurek got through to a mobile belonging to someone in the group ahead and Adam came back to lead us onwards. By that time, the wind and rain were approaching biblical.

Oddly enough, I found my stride so to speak and, though soon soaked to the skin, wasn't cold and was rather enjoying myself. 

Nonetheless, I whole-heartedly agreed with Sonia's prescription (announced at volume several times in the 1-2 miles before lunch):  "Whiskey!" 

We did not rush over lunch. It's France - it's impossible. We had the restaurant -- and a devoted waitress -- all to ourselves, and over the next two hours or so enjoyed three courses of delicious food (none of which was photographed), several beers in some cases, whiskey in others, and coffees to finish. Meanwhile, much to our relief, we watched the clouds break up and small areas of blue appear in the sky, which grew and grew until, by the time we left, the bright sunshine reduced the still-persistent wind to a trifling nuisance. 

(c) Ian Rauk 2015. Used with kind permission. 

(c) Ian Rauk 2015. Used with kind permission. 

Four hours of glorious cycling followed. The terrain is rolling, with hills requiring some effort but rewarded with sweeping long descents. Road surfaces were very good, even on the quiet singletrack lanes where we encountered virtually no motor traffic. On the main roads, the treatment from drivers was generally quite civilised -- sufficient space given while overtaking, suitable adjustments to speed, usually both -- with the exceptions (as of course there were a few) being few and far between. 

The first set of rollers right after lunch, straight into the wind.
(c) Mark Grant 2015. Used with kind permission. 

(c) Mark Grant 2015. Used with kind permission. 

(c) Mark Grant 2015. Used with kind permission. 

(c) Mark Grant 2015. Used with kind permission. 

The strong headwind prompted a unanimous decision to cut off the southern end of 50-ish mile route that Adam had originally planned. Instead we struck off towards the coast somewhat sooner, cutting off a big chunk of the route. Another series of rollers over the hills brought us out on the coast at Sangatte. 

(c) Ian Rauk 2015. Used with kind permission. 

To be honest, we had just one choice to make:  battle our way around the full 50 miles with a question mark over whether we'd get back to Calais in time for our 8.35pm ferry.... or take a short cut to the coast, find a restaurant with an outdoor garden and have beers in the sunshine. Hmmm. 

(c) Sonia Williams. Used with kind permission. 

Our total distance was only 36 miles. But the smiles were, I think we'd all agree, endless.

(c) Ian Rauk 2015. Used with kind permission. 

Reports from the others are up on CycleChat -- I especially recommend Arthur's words and photos at post #193.