It was a very early start on Thursday 17th September as despite being at my brother’s house in NE London and therefore not being that far away, London traffic can be an unknown quantity. As it happens traffic was light and we arrived nice and early at Old Palace Yard, a small courtyard opposite the House of Lords, which we’d got special permission from the Met Police to use.

The two support vans, two support motorbikes and a few cyclists had already arrived and we’d even got our own bobby to ensure that all vehicles were the ones previously authorised and that they parked on tarpaulins, though it wasn’t long before a couple more police had wandered over as we were probably an interesting addition to their day of guard duty. Living up to the reputation I gained on my Manchester charity ride, I needed a pee and so a very nice policeman escorted me into the Houses of Parliament to use the  facilities – I wasn’t the only one and he must have escorted at least 30 of us in half-a-dozen trips, each time with a smile despite it being very unlikely the sort of thing he joined the force for.

I’d produced a set of maps/route cards and printed them on waterproof paper so first job for everyone was to collect those along with their ferry ticket. Second job was to pose for obligatory group shot:

Leaving London was chaos with 70+ riders trying to stay together, though the first segmentation happened all of 300 yards down the road at Parliament Square! We passed the Cenotaph, down to Victoria Embankment and over Tower Bridge then Greenwich, Woolwich and finally leaving London via Dartford to the first water stop and my first accident.

Neither of us really know what happened for sure but we think the sequence of events was thus: neither of us got any warning that we were approaching the water stop (which was at a pub on the other side of the road), I saw it at the last minute and slowed down quite rapidly, the chap behind didn’t see it all and assumed I was slowing down to pull in left so overtook me on the right, which ended up with a collision and an off for both of us. My pedal went through his wheel and trashed a few spokes (he only had 15 or so in the first place) and my front Crud RoadRacer (which I should have taken off given the weather forecast!) broke. Fortunately there was a spare road bike on one of the support vans and the other rider was able to borrow a wheel from that. We didn’t really get a chance to speak to each other until lunchtime when we shook hands, checked each other was okay and gave our respective apologies. One of the support team found a bike shop to get the original wheel fixed and it was reunited with bike in Calais; the bike shop in Kent had acknowledged our endeavours and did a sterling job in super quick time and only charged £10.80! I noticed the new spokes were different and on wheels that nice I’m sure they’ll be replaced again soon, so made it my place to pay for this first repair.

After London we took A roads to Chatham, Sittingbourne and then Canterbury where I was given a donation by a passer-by in the town centre which was a nice gesture. We left Canterbury on regional cycle route 16, which was pretty much traffic free but involved lots of short hills with short downs on old & minor roads and tracks, so lots of energy sapped and no long downhills, flat stretches or smooth sections to get a reprieve. There was also a horrid headwind and I got the impression from other riders that it wasn’t enjoyed by anyone. However the descent into Dover was steep, twisty and a huge amount of fun; a superb finish to the English leg of our trip.

By the time we got off the ferry in Calais, it was dark and despite my quality map, few people seemed to know where they were going. I had my Garmin Edge 705 with a course loaded to guide me the 5 miles to the hotel so I was okay as were the few other riders that decided to put their faith in me. The remaining 20 or so on my ferry arrived much later than us, having resorted to paying a taxi to drive slowly so they could follow!

That night in hotel room I thought I’d give my bike a quick once over as I’d not really done so since my crash. I was shocked to find about 4″ of the front tyre bead hanging out, a spoke that had popped out of it’s nipple and a wheel that was about 5mm out of true! I deflated tube, popped tyre back on the rim and then set about putting spoke back; using the brake blocks as a guide and the spoke key on my multi-tool I got the wheel true to about 1mm which was good enough for me. As I was sharing a room with my father, one of the support vehicles/drivers, I waited for him but as he caught a ferry with the slowest riders it meant a late bedtime of around midnight.

Most of the group set off about 8am on the Friday, but a few of us who felt we’d make up the time took things a little more slowly and left an hour or so later. The roads in France were generally in better condition than we’d experienced in the UK and a bit of smooth tarmac was much appreciated especially as it put 1-2mph on your speed for no extra effort. The ride was pretty uneventful through France and into Belgium and by lunchtime our small team were back in our usual position in the middle of the pack despite the later start.

some of the support team

Just inside the Belgian border at the town of Poperinge, a few riders had found a small Italian restaurant so we joined them as did numerous others that were behind us – bet they’re glad they were open that day! A good helping of spag bog and garlic bread later we set off for the last leg of the trip via Ypres & the Menin Gate. I decided that Belgium has some great cycle paths, but they’re only there by way of apology for all the cobbles in their towns!

Somewhere outside of Bruges the faster riders had stopped for a coffee and so a bit of regrouping occurred for the final push along a cycle path next to a main road. Also on the cycle path, travelling towards us, was a moped doing an estimated (by others not me) 30mph despite a large group (30+) of cyclists in matching tops. Unfortunately I didn’t see the moped and we clipped each other sending us both off big time, me over the bars. I was shaken and angry that this lunatic had taken me out on a cycle path but decided not to enter into any conversation. Apparently the moped rider looked like he was going to have a pop but realised there was an awful lot of us so just left. I’ve since been told that mopeds are allowed on certain cycle paths in Belgium, but I don’t think that excuses him from travelling so fast when there was a large group coming towards him. I’d like to think that if the role was reversed I’d of just pulled up and waited.

I sustained a nasty graze to my arm, cut my knee and took a severe beating to my torso, especially my ribs, so a couple of minutes later when my father and one of the motorcycles pulled up alongside, I was quite ready to put bike on the rack and take BMW comfort for the last few miles. However, my brother, Brett, had other ideas and so as a team effort we removed front wheel, patched the large gash in the tyre (with a self-adhesive inner tube patch on the inside of the tyre), fitted a new tube, refitted spoke that had popped out again, gave the wheel another quick truing and off we went. It was very painful but I’m glad I did I finished on a bike.

At a bar on the outskirts of Bruges an impromptu finish line had occurred and we indulged in beer and chips and banter whilst waiting for all the riders to arrive so we could do the final few miles to the hotel as a group. News of my moped incident had quickly spread amongst the riders already there and those that had seen it happen kindly reassured me that I wasn’t being a pratt and that the moped rider was.

It didn’t seem that long before the remaining riders (well all that were still riding as there were a few drop-outs) were in and we set off again. Unfortunately the big group ride to the hotel wasn’t entirely incident free, as the Belgians do seem to have an odd idea about who a cycle path is for and several pedestrians and a jogger found themselves amongst a mass of tired and emotional Brits on bikes, but we made it!

After a shower and change of clothes, everyone met in the hotel restaurant for the group dinner, story swapping and of course lots of silliness and beer. Unfortunately I had to call it a night early on because I (well, my ribs mainly) needed to be quiet, still, horizontal and with ibuprofen inside.

Saturday we had the morning to ourselves before jumping on a coach for a WW1 guided tour including Ypres, Tyne Cot Cemetery and finishing with the last post at the Menin Gate; all very interesting and really moving. It was then back to Bruges for more fun and drinking!

70+ riders, 200 miles, 2 days and with all the adventures, experiences and emotions that go with it. An unforgettable achievement by all and a fantastic experience. And all down to one man who puts in an enormous amount of effort (in his personal time because he has a full-time job) to make these events happen:

People are already asking about next years event (this was number 3) and if you’re interested then let us know. The people are from all walks of life. The riders are of all abilities, from real roadies to people that haven’t ridden in years to one bloke who up until a couple of months ago only had a BMX! The fitness goes from uber fit to very overweight. The experience from people that do 1000s of miles a year to those who until they started training (if they did!) hadn’t ridden more than a few miles. One thing everyone has in common though is that they’re willing to get outside their comfort zone in order to raise money for children that just don’t have the choices and advantages we do.

Comments are open, especially for any o2e rider reading this.

Charity website: www.o2e.org

My donations website: www.justgiving.com/rafeandbrett

Lots of pictures: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/jtuohy/Brugge09?authkey=Gv1sRgCJ3irJS6-_yFvgE&feat=email