So its been a little over 48 hours since I arrived at the Rouleur-in-laws after having to call time on the first and toughest of my cycle challenges due to injuries to my fellow Roly.

On arrival there was predominantly a huge amount of guilt to reason with, but added to the mix was a dash of anger, a spoonful of pain and a whole heap of frustrations, which overall meant, that like a cheese that had been out of the fridge too long I was pretty stinky (metaphorically of course).

Of course no option really existed other than to abandon given the injuries my colleague suffered (I am still waiting on the finding of the Doctors report but wouldn’t be surprised to hear that he is now a Eunuch!) but it was still hard to accept.

Since my last post though I have had some incredible messages of support and even some additional sponsorship for my fundraising for the wonderful Shooting Star Chase, and for this I thank you all, you really have helped me to process the ride. So instead of more negatives I will leave you with a few choice thoughts and findings from the near 300 miles from Woking to the little Belgian town of Diest where time was called (and there would be no lock ins!)

Reflection 1 – The South of England is not flat!!

I am not even sure where this idea came from to be honest but whilst we knew we would be cresting a few categorised climbs nothing prepared us for the near constant upwards spiral that the route from Woking to Dover offered. Climb after climb we went up and climb after climb another appeared. For reference RideLondon has around 4000 feet of climbing and our first day topped out at just over 6400 feet. Twice we walked because the gradient, the additional weight from all that we were carrying (no not the lunchtime chip butties), and the 90 miles already in the legs stopped us doing anything else.

Reflection 2 – My fellow Roly swears even more than me.

This probably needs no further explanations other than to say, I have always been known for my colourful language and shocking vocabulary but from mile 75 on day one all the way to the end and abandonment, whilst I channeled positivity (in general) my fellow man turned the air blue for minutes at a time, climbing for the 108^th time in the UK, bouncing over cobble number 800, or stopping at the 12000^th red light in a Belgium village he always had a wonderful turn of phrase for the occasion, I am just glad no women or children were in ear shot!

Reflection 3 – I am a Glamper not a camper

Physically I found the riding fine (as did my fellow Roly) but the thought of finishing a 70 mile plus day snuggled up top to tail in a two man tent in the Belgian countryside was not my idea of fun. A long and terrifying walk in the dark to the site toilets was always rejected for the nearest bush and if I had been dripped on one more time by condensation in the tent I may have been institutionalised  I am too old to sleep on the floor, my hip hurt everyday not from riding but camping. So I say bring on the carpets, bring on the air mattress, and bring on the tent chandelier’s (yes these are a real thing apparently).

Reflection 4 – Belgium is in lockdown on a Sunday

One spar, one deli, one restaurant, that is all that was open on a Sunday in Belgium. We thought of this luckily and stocked up but it still meant that I needed to find my inner Bear Grylls, does Bear pee in the woods? I am not sure but Roly Rouleurs certainly do!! Also remember that campsites close at 4pm on a Sunday (luckily the bar doesn’t though!)

So there you have it a few choice thoughts from 300 miles in Europe.

But what now? Well since the ride I have spent time with my wonderful wife and son, and have also been shoe shopping with my mother-in-Rouleur (this is completely true!!). For tomorrow I have managed to source a mountain bike from my wife’s uncle (though my father-in-Rouleurs bike lurks in the background like the rubbish car in old Top gear specials) so I predict that by Sunday I will be wanting to add one of these to my collection, (n+1 and all that) just don’t tell Mrs Rouleur.