It's the final countdown! - Thursday 6 October 2011

Bucket man phoned from that other continent – “I’m in Ceuta, in Africa” he said.  “Are you sure you are in Africa” we enquired, having seen a comment on the blog, “of course I am” he replied. Ceuta is an 7.1 square mile autonomous city of Spain and an exclave located on the north coast of North Africa surrounded by Morocco. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ceuta for more information.

He is staying in a Hotel Tryp and claims he was in one (that is, a Hotel Tryp) earlier on the trip – “you remember” he said, “no, we don’t” we replied and we are more intimately acquainted with every aspect of this bucket nonsense than most.

Distance travelled by bike, 57 miles, distance travelled by boat, approximately 20 miles, the little man doesn’t really care about the boat bit.  He tells us the trip out of the valley on the big hill (see yesterday’s blog and every other hill mention for background info) was OK; he managed to overcome the big one.  While doing this he fondly thought of Ellie who thought his trip cycling to Africa was a bit dangerous, “I am only going a bit further than going to Grandma’s house in Spain” he reassured her.  “Oh, that’s OK then, it is only a two and a half hour flight to get to Grandma’s house” she replied. 

The pedaller then started to go on, and on, about his future options regarding returning to the UK, golf with Mick, bike bags (?), but we won’t repeat them, can’t be bothered.

However, he seems to have a new initiative, a kind of reverse Trip Advisor set up.  It is all a bit of a mystery, but apparently, his hosts in the top hotel last night, namely Mitch and Max were so impressed by his efforts (or so he says) they wanted to check out this blog.  Martin wants everybody to go and stay at the hotel (thanks Bob, you found a gem) so is suggesting they start commenting on this blog about their guest, namely him.  Is this making sense to you lot?  The only thing we can say about the hotel is they don’t allow you to take your bike to bed with you – so bikeiality is a no no at this establishment.

So that’s it, it is all over, the bucket man/little man with the big psi has achieved his goal, he has pedalled all the way to another continent.  Look out for him telling never ending stories about his “journey”, coming to a bar near you soon.

Over and out, signing off for the last time - hurrah- your trusty blog team, now standing down.  

L'homme petit est arrivé en Africa - Thursday 6 October 2011

STOP PRESS - the little man is leaving Spain

At 14:19 the text came through from the pedaller announcing he had left Spain, with a photo of some water, closely followed by a picture of the Rock of Gibraltar.  Sadly, the magic lead operator is still at work so I can't put them here yet, come back later for all the gory details.

15:40 Text arrives to say he is in Africa, along with another snap, all to be loaded later...

Photos are now in:-

The little valley Bob had me climb out of this morning!

Nearly there!

Back on the motorways again! Outside lane was a bit hairy! But clearly couldn't stop to take pictures!

Leaving Spain!

The Rock!

I am in AFRICA!

Africa? See Bob Walkers comment further down.

Still not got to the end… News from the Frontera - Wednesday 5 October 2011

Little man phoned in his report in two parts this evening, interrupted by his dinner of pork and mashed potato arriving part way through the short summary of his day.  Today he has managed 110, very hilly, miles and is staying in an excellent hotel (run by Brits – hurrah) with a swimming pool found by Bob and his Spanish speaking cohorts.  He, and the hotel, are in Cortes de la Frontera  (the name is the same as that funny Vauxhall 4x4 that was around a while back) which he described as being in a valley with a long, steep hill back out.  So long and steep Martin is dreading the climb, but as he only has 40 miles to go, 40 tough miles as he wants us to emphasis, we are quietly confident he will reach the coast.

Well, it is brunch!

He is typically vague about his onward plans, whether to get a ferry to Tangiers or some other place he described as a Spanish enclave on the African continent.  Once at his African destination he doesn’t know whether he will just ride around the terminal car park, or spend a night locally before scampering back to Europe on the first available ferry.

Prompted by a comment Bob made - it's hilly around here!

He then whittered on about choosing the right route, something to do with roads in southern Spain not being what they should and ending up with nowhere to cycle, but by that time it was getting well past our bedtime so we didn’t pay enough attention. We do understand Mick will be in Malaga on Friday and that is having an impact on his tortuous decision making process but as this will be after the end of his cycling marathon, frankly, we don’t give a damn.

Hillier

Come back to tomorrow for confirmation of the end of this epic trip, we think we have all had enough of this pedalling story.

We're now on the last page of the map!

Hold the front page –the bike is fixed – finally! Tuesday 4 October 2011

Bucket man was remarkably upbeat tonight – “I should reach the coast tomorrow” he said.  “Good we said, is that it, can we leave it at that?”   Sadly not, he then burbled on for his usual ten minutes so take a deep breath and read on…

Africa is looming on the southern horizon, Insha'Allah!

He has reached the town of Lucena, and is staying in the Hotel Baltanas which Bob (or his brother, we are not quite sure) has fixed up for him, a real bargain at either £23 or €25, the little man wasn’t sure.  “Is it a yummy hotel” we enquired, “no, but it is adequate” our very own Hotel Inspector replied.   He has covered 125 miles, and says it was a good day as it was very hilly.  At lunchtime he sent us the photo of the town in which he enjoyed a break, where he had a very nice calamari lunch – at last he has upped his game from the McDonald days of early last week.

Martin also reports that it has been a very hot day, as he sat at one of his many pit stops enjoying an ice cream and coke; he looked at a sign saying it was 45° but suspects that may not have been entirely correct.

Montoro, the first of the Southern Spanish towns I hit in Andalucia!

You will not be surprised to hear there were yet more bike chain problems – we are so bored with this but as we are trying to report in a fair way have to include the latest… It involves another farm mechanic (what is it with the little man and yokel types?) so in the interest of independent reporting we will plough on (no pun intended) with it.  Bucket man wanted to buy the farm mechanic’s wrench off him so he would have his very own “nobber tool” (remember them, we do) to sort out his chain problems.  This was agreed so Martin pedalled off with the wrench, or wrench set safely stowed in his bike bag.  Imagine his surprise when he found a bike shop (or more properly in Spanish, una tienda de la bicicleta) that was actually open.  In the shop was a garrulous Danish man who translated for Martin – into Spanish, not Danish – and he ended up buying a new bike chain for 32 Euros.  Now he really had decisions to make, should he throw away the wrench set so thoughtfully provided by the farm hand, should he throw away the original chain (please do, we are heartedly fed up with it) although he says there are still miles left in it, what effect on his progress would the extra weight have – the permutations are both complex and exceedingly tedious.

Mulling over this problem he pedalled on and found two comatose Americans lying under a tree moaning softly, “water, water”. The lady, who had, as they say in America, a big fanny,  and her man had cycled from Cordoba (of bull fame) and managed a puny 30kms before reaching their shady tree.  They had another 20kms to go to reach their hotel for the night so our little man helped them on their way by giving them not only all his water but his last two energy bars – what a hero!

What with this hold up, and the lengthy stop in the bike shop, Martin did not reach his hotel until 8.45pm.  He is truly knackered, not only this pedalling stuff, but he was up until 1.00am the night before,  busily sewing up his Assos shorts with his newly acquired sewing kit.  Plus -  he was furiously washing his clothes so he is fully prepared for the run in.  New chain, clean pants, what more can a pedaller ask for?

He has a few personal messages to pass on, namely, Mick, telling him to pack it in and fly home is not especially supportive or encouraging...  Reece, how is you always phone when he is pedalling furiously and does not have hands free whatever, and Johnny M (you know who you are) why are you so fixated on the state of his bottom?

So, in conclusion,  on hopefully  the penultimate day, he is good order, the bike is in tip top order, the chain is fixed (allegedly) so it should be an easy run in tomorrow – come back then to check it out.

Meanwhile back in Cropwell Bishop we celebrate Jo winning The Great British Bake Off and are left reeling by Mary-Anne's "revolting syllabub." We know how to live!

Cooking on Gas - Monday 3 October 2011

The pedaller has done himself proud today, a stonking 135 miles covered as the racing snake charges towards the south of Spain.  He has arrived in Puerto Llano, when asking his way the local replied “Que, Barcelona” in the manner of Manuel of Fawlty Towers fame, who then pointed out that Llano was pronounced Jano – hence the misunderstanding.

Thankfully the reason for his successful day had nothing to do with tedious bike technical stuff, rather it was because he is cycling across flat land and there is no wind.  He sent through this attractive picture for our sister, Mandy, showing off his Precious Lives teeshirt.  (Editor’s note: photo taken from seriously dodgy angle)

One for our Mand, even the Precious Lives shirt has had an outing! (actually this is it's second so a bit smelly!)

There was some nonsense with his chain (again, surely not…) when a new nobber, this time a farm mechanic, (all a bit Mellors from Lady Chatterley’s Lover), got busy with his pliers to get the pin in… and then refused all payment for services rendered.  Instead he and Martin exchanged a thumbs up (yuk) and Martin pedalled off, only to be pulled up and berated by irate traffic cops who tried to explain that he should not be riding on the motorway and that he should “look hard for the right road”.

Bucket man has high hopes of reaching Malaga in a couple of day’s time, fuelled by his scientific diet of doughnuts, cycling gloves and coke, if you don’t believe me, check out the photo.  He hopes to meet up with Mick, possibly for some golf, but we suspect he just wants to keep on, and on, and on  about his mega ride in order to feel superior.

While chatting tonight we established that Martin will reach the straits of Gibraltar just as his Dad sails past on his cruise liner, en route for 28 days on his Black Sea Rhapsody cruise which somehow prompted Bucket man to recall that he was desperate to book into a hotel which provided free sewing kits, one pair of his beloved Assos shorts (mankinis to us) needs some attention, he is fretting as he is down to just two whole pairs.  Wonder if the damaged pair is the temporary brake system he was using a few days ago.   The upshot of the need for sewing kit has meant that rather than a chalet on an industrial park (yesterday’s gaff) he is booked into swanky hotel tonight, seems a bit extreme for the want of a needle and cotton to us.

Early evening pit stop. Necessary since being banned from McDs!

He still needs Spanish speakers, so if you can help, please do.

Sunday SOS – “Ayuda, los altavoces españoles necesitaron urgente” - Sunday 2 October 2011

At last, we can put a call out to any of you who are following this never ending story who are Spanish speakers/translators. The little man is getting into a pickle each day trying to book accommodation, Jill is doing her best but as he travels through the heart of Spain the hotels are a) not bookable using the internet and b) are not English speaking, even loud, shouty English is not understood. So, if you, or your friends and colleagues are able to help, there is a weary cyclist who would appreciate a text or call about 4pm each day when he knows where he will finish up, you can get him on 07768 330402.

Apart from the language problems, Martin is doing pretty well; he managed 110 miles today and has finished in Tavancon. He had a late start, at his hotel last night they promised him that reception would open 8.00am, but despite him hanging around from that time nobody appeared so he decided to have some breakfast and ended up leaving at 9.00am.  We misled you yesterday by saying that there were relatives keen to meet up with him – there isn’t - so he has soldiered on bravely.

He has spent the day cycling past lakes, and keeping his head down as the roads he is using are being utilised by hairy arsed motor bikers haring up and down. Despite the late start he finished by 6pm and is staying a “wooden chalet”.  He struggled to find said chalet, so somehow managed to get the Civil Guardia involved, with one of them going off on his moped to track down the accommodation. Although he has found himself enjoying “cerveza y tapas” over the last few days, he is looking forward to a Chinese feast tonight in one of those piggy places where you keep eating till you drop off your chair or you burst - whichever happens first.  His carbohydrate loading diet is variable; today he had a bowl of crisps and a Mars bar for lunch, probably not the optimum diet.

Despite all this he is now south east of Madrid, and has just 350 miles to go to reach Gibraltar, the last leg to get to Africa.  We have told him to finish by Thursday; the trusty reporting team are off again on Friday and cannot face another extended period trying to keep up with his doings while on the road.  Till tomorrow, and as they say in Spanish “Vaya, va, va”.

Happiness is Madrid in rear view mirror - Sunday 2 October 2011

Now on hands and knees with sore bottom, not sure whether due to Assos bib shorts or nobber!

Señorita with a nobber (photo courtesey of Amazon Healthcare products).

According to Amazon, this simple, meticulously designed, deep-muscled massage tool provides a way for people to manage chronic muscular pain both on their own and in conjunction with professional medical treatment and therapy. Made of a highly durable, polymer composite, molded in the shape of an `S`, the Backnobber II devise is designed to be hooked over the shoulder or under the arm so that one of the two ends can be pressed into any of the muscles of the upper or lower back or neck. The Backnobber II`s natural shape and dimensions allow the user to apply as much pain-releasing pressure for as long as required to achieve its remarkable effects.

Assos Bib Shorts (not to be confused with a mankini)

Photos Added - Sunday 2 October 2011

The Blog Team have returned from the Shropshire Union Canal and a weekend in Watchet and can finally access the images that Martin has sent along the way. They have been added on the days that he sent them and his accompanying comments are in italics below each picture.

Regarding the sunflowers, the heads are all pointing the same way, which is east. While the protective petals are opening, the plant tracts the sun in 180° following the sun. It returns to east facing overnight to start the process all over again for the next day. The term for this is called heliotropism (Google it for more information).

New month, same old pedalling bollocks - Saturday 1 October 2011

Martin phoned this evening in a state of high excitement –“my bike was broken this morning, I couldn’t pedal at all, I puff, pant and dribble and still get nowhere”.  He said the chain must be broken, or maybe the nobber was not the saviour we had previously thought.   He then went on to explain that is was all Spain’s fault as he was travelling through some massive desert, used for spaghetti westerns, which didn’t have any reference points he could relate to.   However, once he got to the top of the hill he positively flew down at a rate of knots.  You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to work that one out.

So this explains why this morning has seemed so hard!

He couldn’t find his hotel (so what’s new) but did have an unusual brunch, as he said, the biggest pork crackling piece ever, it was the size of a large bacon rasher.  Veggies should look away now; he washed down this mega piece of pig skin with a coke – yummy!

Question to my bloggers - why do all the sunflower heads point the same way? It's midday and they're not looking at the sun!

He managed 115 miles today, and was finished by 7pm, holed up in a place called Siguenza, some “Medieval place with a sodding great castle” – his words not ours. The hotel wouldn’t let him take his bike to bed with him (hotels eh – pah!) so he will have to spend the night alone. Although the background noise from his phone call implied that he was amidst an energetic party in full swing and anything could happen.

However, he is hopeful that Uncle Jeremy and Anne will try and meet up with him tomorrow to cheer him on.  He also has a question for all you blog readers which he texted through a couple of days ago with a picture (which for well documented reasons we can’t post here…) namely:  Why do all the sunflower heads point the same way?  It’s midday and they are not looking at the sun!”  Obviously you have to wait for the photo, but start thinking about it, put your best answers down as comments  on this blog or text them to 07885 292823 and we will ensure you get the approbation you deserve!

Look! Another one that snuck up on me. Mind you, this one's on a motorway. Well there's no-one about, it's Saturday afternoon and they're all asleep!

That is your lot for today; we took down the details of Bucket man’s day while walking through a car park in Watchet, not the best conditions for accurate reporting.

Canal sub blog: We left the boat this morning at Swanley Bridge on the Llangollen Canal, so no more canal-related stuff to witter on about. Now holed up in Watchet, Somerset.

One week into his “journey” – Friday 30 September 2011

Bucket man had a slow day today, a mere 92 miles covered in his journey to get to Cincruenigo. He is tired, he is hopeless at getting out of cities, it took him hours to get out of Pamplona after getting into a huge muddle somehow.  At 3pm he had only achieved 30 miles for the day so had a massive effort ahead of him to increase his daily mileage.

Martin's Mantra - Be late!

Since you didn't believe me, this mornings little hill with velo, so no, not off internet!

As always, he had problems, today it was a puncture, no, not so much a puncture as a dead tyre.  Remember all that nonsense with too many psi we had a yesterday (or was it days ago, we are losing track), well, the outcome was that the tyre was quite fed up with too many psi so showed it’s displeasure by blowing a hole in it’s side wall.  Martin had some little story to entertain you, the filler as it were, anyway, he was trying to dry some shorts he had washed,  (not any old shorts, these were Assos bib shorts – whatever they are) on the bike.  They were flapping behind him as descended a hill, but somehow got caught in the rear wheel and became a new brake. We were interested to know what colour the shorts were, hoping for some interesting fact in this anecdote but sadly they were black, not ebony black, or crow black, just black. We do have a couple of new photos but can’t share them with them with you until we return to base on Sunday and find the magic lead.

The big blow out meant a new tyre was needed and it cost a whopping 52 Euros, why?  My car tyres almost cost less than that…

So after a hard day the little man is not feeling especially good, he phoned in his report at 9pm with a weary tone, but was obviously in a very lively bar, the background noise was very loud and Spanish, perhaps they were enjoying tapas!

No wonder it's bloody windy!

Canal sub blog:  Lazy day in the sun, a mere 12 locks, quite a few miles, now moored up in rustic bliss on Llangollen canal.  Crew member Cadbury celebrated her 9^th birthday so we glugged a bottle of Yellow Tail Shiraz to wish her Happy Birthday.  We leave the boat tomorrow to travel down to deepest Somerset to look at a potential new home but hope to be back in full reporting mode by Sunday night, we can’t wait to have internet access on tap!

Climbing a Col and fighting off a nobber – Thursday 29 September 2011

It has been a big one today, Bucket man has managed a whopping 120 miles, including cycling across the Straits of Biarritz,  and did not finish pedalling until 9.15pm so did his ‘up and over’ the Col d’Ispeguy in the dark.  He has texted us a photo, but as it is photo of a mountain in the dark it could be anywhere, no sign of the pedaller in the picture.  He is currently holed up in Elizondo, on the N121B in Spain.

Martin is finally content with how his bike is working so can no longer blame it for his poor performance.  Apparently (and this may be horribly wrong but we had a mixture of bad connections and a noisy pub to contend with) he watched his wiggle going round (we are sure that is what was said) and worked out that a pin was half out of the chain.  This is where it gets surreal, we thought Martin said he found a nobber, and then sadly, the phone went dead.  What is a nobber we thought, is it Spanish for a robber and he has just been mugged in a phone box?  Is it a special tool for working on bike chains?  Once reconnected all became clear, he was saying another mechanic he had found who poked the pin back in so everything is now hunky dory.  Oh yes, the nobber was French, and located some 25 miles north of Bayonne – phew, glad we sorted out that potential misunderstanding.

Just remembered, Martin has managed to text us two photos, including the dark mountain one which frankly, is pretty dreary but sadly, we don’t have the magic lead with us to attach the phone to the computer so have no way of sharing  these with you yet.  Stand by on Sunday for a blog with extras.

He also had two punctures today and no involuntary dismounts.  Remember the little man with the big psi?  Well his big psi was his problem today, as he inched his way up a steep hill with too many psi his tyre blew up, hence the puncture, although tyre" blow up" and "puncture" don’t seem close in our thesaurus…

Bucket man spotted another dead red squirrel; it is difficult to imagine how he will be able to contain his excitement when he spots a live red squirrel!  His heart monitor is working so he is definitely not dead but he is proud that he did an 8 km (those dratted kms again) climb over his 700m high mountain, which seems more of big hill to us. No planned route tomorrow, but he is skirting around Pamplona avoiding any rampaging bulls.  General plan is to head for Gibraltar.

As you can tell it was quite late as I crested the Col d'Ispeguy!

Over and out.

Canal sub blog:  New crew member joined this morning, lots of locks, lots of sun, lots of wine and spirits due to very low yard arm. Now moored outside the Shroppie Fly public house in Audlem.

Dead squirrel spotted – hold the front page. Wednesday 28 September 2011

Bucket man phoned in his report this evening with not much to report.  He is now 35km south of Bordeaux, why he has started reporting in kilometres after five days of miles is an unexplained mystery, and he tells us he has done 110 miles today, do you see the problem?  He is holed up in a place called Labauheyre,  which is a new one on us, never heard of the place. His hotel is called La Pasha, just by the motorway (handy) and he also says the menu de jeur yesterday was top drawer, well worth the 12 euro expense.  He has managed to get through another day without a McDonalds meal (we use the term “meal” loosely) so maybe has got over that particular compulsion. He does say his energy is flagging and maybe that is because he hasn’t had a hamburger, so he tucked into a plate of pasta and some indeterminate meat bits in Bordeaux to try and address his energy balance.

He has decided that he will not go into any cities in future, because he is incapable of finding his way out.  He blames poor signage, and reckons it took him 2 hours to escape Bordeaux’s clutches, we believe it is down to his incompetence in map reading.

As we said, it is a day of no news, but Martin has scratched his head and come up with three bits of information, namely 1) he saw his first red squirrel today, sadly it was a dead, squashed,  red squirrel but he knew what it was because it had little brown tail attached to the squashed bit – which he spotted just as he rode over it... 2) No bike mechanics in France are better than those in Nottingham, he has had 3 different mechanics working on his bike and none have managed to fix it, they all say it is fine where he reckons he knows differently.  Lastly, 3) he started whittering on about having an Ashes to Ashes moment, after expert questioning we established that what he really meant was that his heart monitor was kaput – i.e. his monitor was stating no heartbeat while obviously his heart was still beating or he wouldn’t be boring us with all this nonsense.

He is still promising  to be in Spain tomorrow.

Canal sub blog:  22 locks, about 12 miles travelled, one British Waterways incident involving a lock paddle which meant an hour’s hold up, 2 bottles of wine and more sun than you can shake a stick at = moderate sunburn. We are now in Market Drayton Hippodrome, a Weatherspoons pub on Thursday morning for breakie and WiFi - sorry we are late in posting yesterday's update, lack of enthusiasm last night was the problem.

Techie Tuesday – Tuesday 27 September 2011

Bucket man has taken Jill’s advice and decided to set off before breakfast – after all, what is the point of hanging round for a warmish croissant when you can be pedalling, so he hit the road at 8.00am.  “It’s dark before then” he reports, with a slight hint of wonderment in his voice. 

He has made excellent progress today, covering 112 miles in total, a trip record.  He has reached a place called Jonzac, a town near Cognac. Why he didn’t stay in Cognac and enjoy the local brew is a mystery, but then, as this is the man who chooses to eat Big Macs while in the gastronomic capital of Europe, we rest our case.

However, there was some faffing around with his bike, in a place called Niort.  Determined to find a bike shop (sorry, a “le velo magasin”, Martin’s French is very taxing…) he found yet another one that was shut. This one was attached to a Renault garage, and allegedly this harps back to his tedious Halfordsism – in that non Halfords aficionados claim that Halford just send out a car mechanic to fix bikes.  At this Renault garage, there really is a car mechanic who fixes bikes.  Sadly, he was on leave, leastways, not present, so Martin somehow managed to get access to his workstation to fiddle about with his gears.

This part of the story was so tedious we can hardly bear relate it, apparently his front derailleur big cog is connected to his rear derailleur little cog with the chain inbetween, something to do with the lower half of his cassette (what, where did that come from!) on his back and little rings, anyway, Martin is convinced that Sean, he of end to ender fame will understand immediately.   He droned on about some man in suit coming into the garage, and a lengthy discussion about the differences between psi (remember them from yesterday) and bar…  It went on and on, does he really think you lot will be interested in all this stuff,  we just want to hear about his involuntary dismounts and major disasters, not this boring old bike stuff, he will never get a film option at this rate.   Finally, the man in the suit, from a Renault garage, who may be a mechanic who fixes bikes, does have one essential skill – he can pump bike tyres to 120 psi – hurrah. 

Pressures sorted, the little man with the big psi pedalled to his hotel, Hotel 108, where he was delighted to find the menu de jeur, 3 courses, for a very reasonable 12 Euros.  For an extra 2 Euros he can have a glass of wine and a coffee, what a bargain!  He has managed to curb his Maccy Dee addiction problem today and went for a jambon et fromage baguette for lunch, at last, trying the local cuisine.   

It has been hot, so hot; he had an unplanned stop to buy sun tan lotion, much to his surprise.  He still needs to sort out his gear problems, so we suspect there will be more boring techie stuff to come.  On a positive note, he thinks he will reach Spain by Thursday so hola – we will switch to Spanish…

Introducing the Canal trip sub blog!!

We picked up our narrow boat at Swanley Bridge Marina, just below bridge 6 on the Llangollen canal.  Imagine our surprise when we found the boat was called Debbie, “pah” said Martin, “I bet it looks good on the outside and is crap on the inside”.  Many a true word is spoken in jest… We locked down the 4 Hurleston locks with assistance from the British Waterways lock keeper at the top, who was wearing a natty BW life jacket, and then chugged on to Nantwich where we are moored on an embankment above the town.  As we came into moor, Cadbury made an ill advised leap for the bank and had an involuntary swim so we are sharing a small space with a damp, smelly Labrador – oh joy!  Off to Market Drayton tomorrow, it is doubtful we will do more than 15 miles, we are not really competing with the manic pedaller, but are enjoying every minute of our trip!

All things being equal, and the comms working we will have another update tomorrow.

PS.  We had to trudge about a mile through desolate out of town Nantwich to find Wi Fi, now holed in up the fabulous Nakatcha bar - cripes - tonight is student night and the attractive barmaid tells us we have about 5 minutes to upload this before the bar crawling students arrive, gulp...  Assuming we survive, more to follow tomorrow. 

Mr Angry in Angers - Monday 26 September 2011

The day started so well, Martin was up and at ‘em by 8.50 am, cycling through the fog which seemed to cling to him so he quickly resembled a white cloud beetling down the road.  By 12.15pm  he was feeling peckish and looking for sustenance.  Dear reader, we are ashamed to say yet again Martin was seduced by the global McDonald’s brand and had another Big Mac – has he not seen the film "Supersize Me"?

Anyway, he had arrived in the delightful French city of Angers which among other things, is blessed with a tram system.  We say blessed, Martin would say cursed, as he slipped among the 2” wide tram tracks on his skinny 1” tyres.  As he tried to carefully negotiate the tram lines the queue of irate French cars built up behind him, honking merrily, so he tried to be a bit clever dickey and use BMX tricks to jump the tracks which resulted in a crashing collision with a kerb.  Immediately he felt that sinking feeling as his real wheel lost pressure and just knew he had a puncture.

Never mind he thought, I am in the middle of a city in a cycling mad country, no problemo.  For some reason he thought going into a gym would be the best place to start finding a cycle shop.  “Ou et le velo magasin?” he enquired in his best O level (or was it CSE) French. “Oh, you mean the bike shop” came the reply.  Of course, as he is in France, the shops are not only shut on Sunday, but apparently on Mondays as well so Martin had to not only fix the puncture himself but had to rely on his puny hand pump (ooh er missus!) to get 80-90 psi in his tyre, when he wants a full on 120 psi, only available at bike shops we understand.

Things just got worse; he set off and had to cross the Loire, that famous big river you find in the middle of France.  He got hopelessly lost and ended up cycling back and forth trying to find a bridge; still it was a nice sunny afternoon.

However, he has now checked in to another Logis de France (you know, the little hotels with the green sign showing a fire in a hearth) in Bressuire, a bargain at 49 euros.  Cycling total today a reasonably impressive 110 miles although he was aiming for a stonking 120, that Angers place scuppered his plans.

Sadly, your trusty reporting team are setting off on their own adventure tomorrow, chugging along the canal system in wildest Shropshire so a combination of a) few canal side pubs offering wi fi and b) almost no mobile coverage means reporting may be a bit sporadic  over the next couple of days, but we will do our best.  Our intrepid pedaller is also struggling to sort out his photo transmission – something to do with work phones and service providers, we rather lost interest – but hopes to get that sorted soon.

However, onwards and upwards, or as they say in France - “allez, allez, allez!”

Unexpectedly hilly, but bolstered by Le Big Mac - Sunday 25 September 2011

Living Caen at 9am, Martin was sure that northern France was flat,  however, it is not, indeed it is very hilly…  He was joined by a young, local, whipper snapper who came alongside and uttered the immortal words “vous parlez francais?” before deciding to ride with Martin in the “Suisse Normande”.  Jelly legs Martin reports that he thought Devon and Cornwall were tough, but this northern France area made those areas seem very tame.  Up hill and down hill he pedalled, with the agreeable (and very fit) whipper snapper alongside, encouraging him along the way.  Martin particularly wanted Bob to be aware of the young Frenchman’s efforts, apparently he even came back down a hill to help Martin pedal to the top.

All these hills left our intrepid pedaller knackered by lunchtime, and for some reason, instead of a decent lunch in the land of decent lunches, Martin opted for the Golden Arches and got stuck into a Big Mac.  Not content with that, he tells us he also took 2 Cuprofen.  Not being very drug literate we had to look this one up, apparently it is a mixture of Neurofen and Codemol, which means little to us but we suspect it is designed for old fogeys who are doing too much and need some pharmaceutical help.   Martin tells us that after using these drugs the afternoon went much better, he claims it was flatter and he managed to reach Laval, some 100 miles covered since this morning.   He finished cycling at 6.00pm and has suddenly twigged that his unplanned ferry change has meant he is 25 miles further on than he had planned.

It was very hot today, around the mid twenties so Martin took to scrumping apples from orchards on his route as he did not have enough liquids, doing his bit to improve the entente cordiale – we think not. He blames France for closing down on a Sunday so that he was unable to buy water.

Tomorrow an early start is planned as he sets out for Angiers in the 23 degree heat.

Away with the Ferries - Saturday 24 September 2011

Up at dawn, Martin pedalled furiously to reach Newbury at 8.45 and then set off for Portsmouth and the ferry booked for 2.30pm.  However, nothing goes according to plan and those nice people at Brittany Ferries texted him to say his ferry had been cancelled so he needed to catch an alternative ferry going to Caen, which leaves at 1.45pm.  As we all know, Martin is world class in arriving late for things but catching the ferry was pretty key to the success of the trip.  He had a brief “tired and emotional” moment in Winchester, then swore loudly and fluently before getting on a train to Portsmouth so he caught the boat.

While on the boat he suddenly remembered he needed to set up a way of telling all his friends, family and other assorted followers about his progress so telephoned his trusty reporting team who were busy shopping in Nottingham.  He casually requested a full on, Sky News type operation, but was firmly told this blog was his only option…

On arrival in France he found his French road atlas was out of date, despite being the AA 2011 edition.  He says the road he wanted didn’t exist so he cycled along the motorway before arriving in Caen.  Although the ferry is billed as going to Caen, it seems Caen itself is 10 miles from the sea.  Martin checked into the Hotel Bristol, grateful for the familiar name.  He arrived on French soil at 9.30pm and was in the hotel for 10.00pm – not bad going.

There is some dull story about insurance and the pre-booked hotel in Cherbourg, his intended destination, but life is too short to bother typing it in. 

Tomorrow he had planned a 100 mile ride to Mayenne from Cherbourg but as he is now in a completely different place he has to start planning again.  He will be travelling through France, the Pyrenees, then down through Spain to meet with Mick playing golf in Malaga – does this mean he has got his golf clubs strapped to the bike?  We await the first photos with anticipation, once they come through on the wire we will stick them in here.

Sent to Coventry - Friday 23/09/2011

Martin is cycling from the UK to Africa.

Billy-no-mates is off again – this time he is cycling from the UK to Africa, apparently it is in his “bucket”.  He is vague about what the bucket is, other than it is sort of “things to do before you die” list.  His came about because he turned 50 and his mid-life crisis drove him to don gaudy lycra outfits and pedal furiously around the Vale of Belvoir on a racing bike. Others afflicted with this bucket problem include Mick McQuilllan who is due to run a marathon and Rich Newsome who is going to cycle the West Coast of America, so watch this space!

You can see Martin's blog of his John O'Groats to Lands End cycle trip with Mick at http://steve33.tripod.com/cycle.

Friday 23 September 2011

Our intrepid pedaller saddled up and left Coventry at 5.00pm - why Coventry we have no idea - waved on his way by well wishing workmates Big Boss Gavin, Will the General Manager and HR managerTracey, the huskie racing chum.  She doesn’t race against the huskies, but attaches them to a sled and shouts “mush” a lot.

Cycling hard, and en route to Wantage and his pre-booked hotel, a distance of 60 miles, he reached Long Itchington before his chain fell off and broke. He had covered about 8 miles.  Undaunted he enlisted the help of a man at the coach company in Long Itchington who turned out to be no use at all so he got in a taxi and went to Halfords in Banbury.

We understand the cycling hard men among you are very dismissive of Halfords and prefer individual, idiosyncratic cycle shops, however, Martin says the Halfords man was great.  Here comes the technical bit:  he straightened the derailleur, shaped some cogs, changed the chain on the gears at the back of the bike and did some other stuff we don’t understand.

Once sorted he rode to Frilford at Wantage, arriving about 9.30pm and fell into bed.