Departure

AND I’M OFF!!! Wow, I have never felt so pumped to finally get on the road. And what a day to set off on my awfully big adventure. Big bright blue cloudless skies, a perfect London summer’s morning. So happy that some of my neighbours got up to wave me off, quite a big ask given that I left around 7.00AM, but it gave me even more of a boost, as if I wasn’t excited enough.

What kinds of things await me? Who will I meet? What adventures will occur and what memories will I create? I intend to enjoy every single second of this wonderful journey, embrace the good, the bad and whatever lies in between.

When you type London into Google Maps, the pin drops directly onto the statue of Charles I in Trafalgar Square. This is the dead centre of London, the point at which all distances to and from the capital are measured from and that seemed to me to be a pretty good place to start my trip. Likewise, Hagia Sofia, the famed mosque in Istanbul that served as a centre of religious, political, and artistic life for the Byzantine world and often described as the 8th wonder of the world similarly seemed like a pretty good place to finish.

Ah, Istanbul. Constantinople. It all sounds so completely exotic, romantic, historic, mysterious and downright thrilling. I hope I do actually make it there and that nothing too 'Covidy' stops me. Augusto came with me down to Trafalgar Square where we had a Pret a Manger breakfast of coffee and croissants and I pinched fistfuls of salt and pepper sachets which I figured would be useful for cooking. Given the amount I have spent at Pret over the years, I figured it would be OK. Took some great photos as well, my plan is to take exactly the same shot outside Hagia Sofia, same pose, same clothes but probably carrying a few less kilos and maybe not with quite such an alabaster skin tone.

Bit of a shaky start from home, as it was the first time I had tried cycling with fully loaded panniers, but it was OK and felt confident I would get the hang of it soon. One thing I hadn’t figured on was that my Wahoo holder didn’t fit on the handlebar with the bag hanging off the front. The place I had tried putting it kept interfering with my gears and by the time I got to Trafalgar Square, it was obvious I had to take it off. I tried putting it in the clear plastic section of my upper frame bag, but it kept sliding around and impossible to use as a sat nav. I just kept put it into the front side pocket of my upper frame bag within easy reach to remove and refer to, and thought I would figure something out later.

One final photo, a final goodbye to Augusto and off I went down Northumberland Avenue to the Thames and then east towards Kent. It felt a significant moment, not least as it would be the longest that I had been apart from Augusto for over 25 years. However the significance of the moment was punctured when I got as far as Blackfriars Bridge, about 8 minutes away, and realised I had forgotten to press start on the Wahoo so I had to turn back to Trafalgar Square and start again. Ooops.

By the time I had reached Deptford, I was noticing some derailleur issues. I had serviced my bike at Balfe’s a couple of weeks before my fateful decision to take this trip and perhaps I should have made a final check before setting off as I had gone on some rides with my cycle group that had involved some heavy gear changing and muddy paths in the time preceding this departure. I found a couple of bike shops; the first guys solution was to add WD40 to everything which was not ideal. The second guy fiddled about and seemed to do the trick.

The journey out of London was as awful as expected. I had opted for a scenic route via the Rainham marshes which had that rotten egg smell you get from seaweed, not unpleasant and I suspect more pungent than normal due to the heat of the afternoon.

My Wahoo was bringing me to all sorts of odd paths, including crossing a golf course (the players were all very cheery as I walked my bike along, looking utterly incongruous), having to haul my bike over stiles which involved me removing my bags and then putting them all back again – very tiresome. I got quite lost at one point and asked a passer by for some directions. She was keen to help, but her suggestion would have meant an impossible walk up the side of a field which, as far as I could make out, would take me miles in the opposite direction to where I intended. I politely said that might prove difficult, following it up with an explanation that I had to take care of my bike as I was setting off for Istanbul, and waited a little too smugly for an expected suitable approval type response from her. Her response was a motivational speech along the lines of ‘if you can do it, anyone can do it’ but delivered in the flattest, monotonic, expressionless way that it really made me chuckle. She was such a lovely lady, well-intentioned but completely unconvincing as an inspirational coach.

I was heading for Painters Farm Campsite near Faversham, which normally should only take 5 hours or so but given my various issues, was taking much longer and I was conscious of it getting quite late. In the end, I just took the A2 which got me there in super quick time and I set about putting up my tent. Pleased to say it took only a few minutes and the owners were impressed at my quest. Unfortunately, I had neglected to make a booking for the local pub, and try as hard as I may, I couldn’t get a space. I was ravenous, but had to make do with pot noodle which I had packed as an emergency backup.

But I had made it in one tired, exhausted piece. My tent was up and even though I was hungry, I was still happy and loving that feeling when you are out of your comfort zone.

Bring It On!