Viva La France avec une heatwave ….

By James Hibbert

They say life is short, and I can see that. Certainly, as I get older the mind starts reminding you that ‘you’ aren’t forever, and what might be even shorter is the ‘I can’.

Having said that, there are times … the ‘other’ times when even the things you have dreamt of doing – cycling in this instance – never seem to end, and at that point another hour is a long time. 

The magician here, are the rose-tinted glasses. They brighten those darker times (in time), and possibly quite cruelly turn these more challenging times into a positive memory – fish and chips for the brain …. You crave them, you eat them, you realise your recollection of how enjoyable they really are was way off, you tell yourself you will never eat the greasy and stodgy mess ever again, and then 24 hours later you are craving them once more.

I appreciate this is quite a questionable start to a blog, but if you are reading this, then it made the cut, and if you aren’t reading this, then it didn’t.

 I will move on shortly as I am making my own head hurt now … but I can assure you that there is a train of thought in my mind (which depending how this ends will either result in me punching  the air, although I am quite fearful it may be used as evidence to ensure my long term stay in a padded room at this point).

A 100km organised cycle ride. Start point; Calais, France. End point: Calais, France.

Westcroft participants: Myself, Aykut and Fed.

Critical considerations: How do we get to France. How long do we stay.

The resulting logistics: Myself and Aykut will ride to and from Sutton and Dover on the outside days, and we will spend two days in France. Fed meeting us and leaving us in Dover by car in order to save his knee. Ferry crossing made avec bikes but sans car.

Friday: Sutton to Dover (St,Margarets Bay to be exact). 145km. Weather; Heat wave of course !!!

Bags packed, bikes prep’d, Aykut and I set off for the ride to (near) Dover, the overnight stop booked, the route in the GPS devices and a heat wave brewing.

As we left the area my mind continued to recall the last time I tried to make a similar journey to the South Coast in yet another heat wave, and as such I (maybe frustratingly for Aykut) tried to temper my (and his) efforts (albeit at the front of the 2 of us) in a bid to keep the body temperature down and maintain energy for the whole ride … I may have also made numerous references to ‘we can stop whenever we need to, no needs to race down, etc, etc’. Whilst all good practical advice, this of course was me signposting that I’m quite nervous that this feels like a long way, especially in a heat wave with laden bikes. 

My fears were not unfounded and we spent the next 48 hours wondering how we can all squeeze in Feds car in order to avoid the reverse ride home. The route to the coast was scenic in places (I never realised how impressive, and close, parts of Sevenoaks and Kent are), and in places it was a frustrating ride. Long open and flat expanses which sound like ideal terrain, but did nothing to make the ride go any quicker, the sun beating down on us the whole way.

We stopped at Westerham Brewery (for water), and again at approximately the half way marker for food and a refresh, again later on for an emergency ‘we need to cool down’ ice cream, and again just before Dover for a ‘this is getting critical now ‘I REALLY need to cool down’ water stop, oh and again later half way up the hill to Dover Castle in order to decant over my head whatever water was left in my bottle. How am I ever going to cool down from this was all I could think.

Its hard now to quite convey quite how hot it was, but in a bid to keep as cool as possible my jersey was completely unzipped, the gloves were off (literally) and for a time down the lanes my helmet was in my hand and not on my head. I can’t advise this, but the only other time I can recall being this hot on the bike was the first day of King Alfreds Way (blog on this page too) and needs must sometimes.

Things didn’t improve when we finally got to our room, which was a ground floor twin room with patio doors (but no windows) which meant that we had to sleep with the door closed and no ventilation. I’m not sure I got any sleep that night, but Saturday started much much better.

Saturday: Ride to Dover for Ferry. Ride to our Airbnb in Calais and head for the start of the ride.

Fed was at our Friday night accommodation nice and early (6:30am), the temperature had dropped although given the time it was still very warm, and we rolled down to the ferry, taking in the views of the impressive Dover Castle again. As Saturday mornings go, this was a good one. The ferry experience was a positive one and the cyclists were escorted out of the Ferry port French side behind a van with flashing lights, which to us felt like some sort of neutralised zone ahead of letting us loose on the French roads.

Fed had organised the Airbnb just outside of Calais, and boy oh boy had he hit the jackpot for us. Three double rooms, over three floors, and a nice modern kitchen (fairly unused by us) and a nice modern shower room (well used). We unloaded the bikes and bags and headed for the start line. If there was a flaw in our planning, it was that we didn’t get to the start line of our 100km ride until way passed mid-day, and coupling this with the heatwave, it made for a day on another day on the bikes where the distance and elevation figures don’t fully portray the reality of day.

The route itself was stunning, the roads empty (by UK standards) and the quality of driving quite outstanding. Drivers were very careful around us for the whole weekend. Stopping and waving us through when at times it was quite un-necessary, patiently waiting behind us until it was safe to pass, and courteous with other drivers. I am not sure I saw any aggression, or heard a single horn blow all weekend (until we got back to the UK again – and within minutes Feds blood was boiling at a moronic Taxi driver) … but the heat …. My oh my ….. the heat !!! Genuinely the roads were melting in places, and the trade off for the peaceful and scenic roads was a complete lack of shops or service stations for much of the ride. At one point Aykut after scouting a small village church for a tap (unsuccessfully) collared a family in their front garden for ‘L’Eau – Merci – Please – Water – Please – Merci’ …

Hills were good for the scenery, but the GPS units were flashing up ‘CLIMB’ with what felt like every 10 pedal strokes, although clearly it wasn’t the case, I am not sure there was a flat road on the route. Just as the day before, I wasn’t feeling so strong, which I put down to the heat at the time, and as the ride went on it felt like Aykut must have smelt the blood in the water attacking the hills with ever increasing pace. Aykut must be ‘Solar-Powered’ was the running joke, as it got hotter and hotter, Mr Solar kept on getting faster and faster.

We rolled back in to Calais eventually to what was a nationwide music festival, and we rehydrated with a couple of fermented cold ones before heading back to the house, showered, changed and walked back into town for more rehydration, re-fuelling and an evening of live music. Yet again, the atmosphere and attitudes impressed. We all commented that it would be hard to imagine such a well-mannered, non-aggressive, truly festival/celebration atmosphere could have taken place in the UK. A great evening.

Sunday: Morning Ride and back to the Ferry Port and accommodation near Dover;

We woke up to some much needed if very unexpected heavy rain, although it turned out to be just the ticket for us. Whilst we were packing the bags and bikes the rain quashed a lot of the temperature, and quickly disappeared, although what it did leave behind was a wind to end all winds.

After riding into Calais for a great, if slightly odd (I had a four cheese panini with the goats cheese winning the flavour battle) breakfast, we picked a small village just over an hour away and headed there of a quick coffee and turn around before heading back to the ferry.

I could tell from the ride out that we had some seriously strong tail-wind behind us, but I had decided that day to wear non-cycling clothes (short, T-Shirt and trainers) and my rucksack appeared to have doubled in weight overnight, so it didn’t feel like we got the full benefit of it, and it wasn’t until we turned around to head for the ferry that we felt the full force of the wind. If you want to get a sense of how windy it was, ask Fed about it when you see him and make a judgement based on the likely colour of the language used.

We navigated the slightly curious route back to the ferry port (French side), got pulled over for a customs check (which was clearly the French having a laugh with us) and we were back on UK soil for a rude awakening. The hill out of the ferry port back to the accommodation and Feds car was arguably the biggest climb of the weekend, and within minutes we were back at the mercy (with a ‘Y’) of the UK drivers again. Same rule applies if you ask Fed about it.

Fed put his bike in his car and drove home and Aykut and I showered, cleaned up and went for a walk to the lovely St. Margarets Bay for a look around and breakfast gathering mission. St. Margarets Bay, Dover, Folkestone, Hithe; all genuinely impressed me with how pretty they are.

Monday: Ride back home from St. Margarets Bay;

Breakfast in the hotel didn’t start until a quite ridiculous 9am, so we scoffed down the bread, cheese and ham gathered the night before and we were on the road by just after 8am.

Considering the last few days, we both felt good, but for me the day before riding in trainers highlighted that the cleats on my shoes (recently changed) weren’t positioned where they should be for my natural movement, so I moved the cleats and maybe assisted by the cooler weather, felt like I had some power back again. Bittersweet after struggling more than I was expecting to for the first two days, but we got round.

The ride back somehow felt more scenic, and we stopped at the same lunch spot and Westerham Brewery again, before heading to Feds to collect the rucksacks he kindly took back for us, leaving us with only the bike bags with what we needed to for the last nights stop-over.

Close to 500km over four days doesn’t sound so taxing, but with bags, late nights and early mornings and critically an official heatwave (the temperature in France reaching 36 degrees) it was enough for us all.

So, how do I tie in the; life is short, time speeds up and slows down mumbo jumbo at the start?

Well …. Here is the thing .. life IS short, but you can extend your perception and enjoyment of it by taking yourself out of your comfort zone, and every now and then life can surprise you in return.

I have driven in France may times, but I was not expecting France to be such the joy it was to ride in …

I was not expecting the French Nation to be so welcoming, the drivers so courteous, and atmosphere so relaxed …. And we certainly weren’t expecting to be at a music festival that night.

I was not expecting that riding in my trainers and civies that day would have been such a pleasure and actually led me to resolve my issue of not quite working out why I didn’t feel myself on the bike.

Going to France for a 100km ride did feel like quite a questionable thing to do before the event, but I wasn’t expecting it would turn out to be so much much more than the sum of its parts.

The conclusion is here … we all came back glowing (metaphorically, and for one of us (not me) physically from a suncream malfunction). We will be searching out similar events and multi-day rides and will aim to get back to France and maybe beyond for more riding.

We spent just two days in France, but I feel I could spend 2 days writing about it … if you are contemplating entering a new event, trying a new challenge, or have a dream of doing something you haven’t done before … go for it … I am sure you won’t regret it, and hopefully it’s an instant hit, and worst case the rose-tinted glasses will take care of it for you in time .. in this case, the very next day. The destination was Calais, but the journey was the event.

C’est tout de moi ….

James