Paul's on a cycling holiday travelling around France with his best friend, Dave. This is the start of their journey.
8.30am. Well sitting on the tarmac at Newcastle airport, the months of planning now kick in. The milky sunshine gives me optimism that a) my best friend and cycling buddy Dave will be there to meet me at the airport in Southampton, b) we'll both get to Rennes - our starting point - by the end of the day, and c) there's a possibility that our two bikes will be delivered to the hotel there by DHL as planned. In many respects, we couldn't have chosen a more risk laden start to the trip, but if it all goes wrong I have euros, and Rennes must have at least one bar. The overhead lockers are shut and the tray tables are in an upright position - here goes nothing...
10-30pm. Arrived in Southampton triumphant...but the best laid plans were eventually scuppered by Flybe - who, after teasing us by revving up the plane on the runway out of Southampton, decided it was broken and made us wait four hours for a replacement. Finally we arrived at the hotel - and the bikes were waiting. A quick bit of reassembly, and we bussed into town to find something to eat. After a jolly nice pizza and several hours on whether Adam Sandler is the anti-Christ, and why ukuleles will eventually bring down civilisation, we walked back to the hotel to repack the panniers and prepare for Day1. I will go to sleep wondering why I don't own a tank top like Dave's...
Paul Carter
Dave and Paul in Rennes. It's the half-timbered start we were hoping for.
