Week 3

Week 3

Well if cycling in to Paris was tough, then cycling out was punishing. We had special directions for cycling out they were very detailed and specific. We had a campsite booked about 100km away. 

We began the day leaving Paris from Notre Dam at 7.40am and after a day that included getting lost in the forest, me falling off, and so many left and rights we arrived at our destination at (Fontainbleu) 9.00pm. 110km later. There was just enough light to set up the tent and for me to cook a pasta dish with our portable stove. Maybe a cheeky bottle of french wine was thrown down. From here on we really started knocking of some km. We both agreed that we would get of the hectic roads that although were more direct did offer a risk.

 We than started going through the villages on the C roads. This offered veiws that could only be described as breathtaking. Absolutely stunning! Over every hill and around bend was like another oil painting. Truly magnificent! Unfortunately these scenes came at a price. Hills. Some up to 14 percent gradient and lasting up to 10km or 1 and a half hours. Now although i found them tough it never got me down, dad on the other hand began to struggle. Having shown fitness and guts that most 26 year olds would be happy with not 65 year olds. He started to feel it. As we got to the French Alps the hills obviously increased. Now, these hills dont just go up and down they wrap around mountains. So you are cycling up at 4km/h for around 2 hours with the knowledge that you are not actually achieving any km towards you destination but actually just expending valuable calories. This is very disheartening! Dad began considering the fact that he may not make this all the way to Istanbul.

Dad and i have been like best mates, Motivating one another up hills, helping each other out with any problems, giggling about certain aspects of a particular days cycle and enjoying a beer at the end of each days conquest.

We agreed that we would only cycle to the fringe of Lyon and then make our own way in to avoid complications. The hills continued the first few days after Lyon, with our average per km per day dropping to below 50km. The scenes and cute little villages that we would spend our lunches and dinners dinning at somehow increased in beauty. France is so neat and well groomed but you never see anyone doing neatening or grooming.

Me and dad were dining at some great venues and meeting some spectacular people. In a georgous town name Thizy we stayed in a little hotel at the top of hill, the owners here ( Alen & fraiches) on hearing of our charity cycle had the local press come and interveiw me and buy my beers all night.

One day, after waiting at the top of a particularly long and steep hill for over 25mins with dad not to be seen i decided to decent to see if he was alright. I found him not to far from the top walking his bike up (also very tiring). It was here that dad said to me he wouldn't go on.

I was gutted.