Greetings from the English Channel

We are currently somewhere in the English Channel on board the Brittany Ferry bound for France. A wonderful gentle pedal through the rolling hills and fields of the British summer countryside. As a man who has spent the last six months in North Africa, everything is wonderfully green.

Ready for off...

We set off at about 13:00 from Chris' house and had only managed about five miles before Chris realised he'd left his phone at home. Off he went back home while the rest of us went to sample the hospitality afforded by the Boot Inn at Stanford Dingley. A couple of beers later and still no sign of Chris and by the time he did turn up we were all feeling distinctly mellow.

Man with phone

We set off south towards Basingstoke, picking our way through small country lanes. The miles flew by, lots of chatting as we caught up with all the news from the past few months. Big hills near Winchester and long green valleys as we headed for the coast. Just after a tea and pork pie stop at West Meon and everything seemed to be going to plan when there was a loud crack from my back wheel - a snapped spoke and a wheel that almost instantly changed shape into something resembling a banana. After some emergency surgery, we got the wheel to go round but riding the bike felt like being on a slightly disappointing fair ground ride.

A cautious 15 miles to Portsmouth hoping the wheel would hold together. We got to the Old Customs House in Gunwharf Quays in time for the second half of the Spain Portugal match and some frantic replanning for tomorrow which would involve visits to bike shpos in Caen to find new wheels.

We made it to the ferry for nine, and met up with lots of other bikers in the queue for boading. booze and bed. will the wheel get us to the bike shop tomorrow?

Waiting to board