Wow what a huge couple of days ... After leaving my little caravan in the country with a fond farewell to my grandparents, aunties and some cousins, I made the 35 mile cycle down from Hertfordshire to Brixton. After a short shower which started only moments after I left the ride was sunny and plain sailing. On arriving at the Prince of Wales or POW for short ,for which my mum thought it stood for prisoner of war, I setup the couch cycle on the large open air terrace above the pub. After some tentative observers looked from a distance a large guy called Matt approached me and ask about my invention, had a seat and got a short massage. Matt, as well as many others during the night said what an amazing trip he thought it was , and also gave me a small contribution to the trip. later in the evening I massaged all the people who decided to come to the leaving do and a few of us went to Brixton village market for a quick bit to eat before I cycle up Brixton hill to my cousins house and my place to crash. After a rather interrupted sleep I started my 80 mile cycle (over 1000 meters of inclined) to Dover this was a big journey and started with a grueling climb up to Crystal palace, after which my back wheel broke a spoke. All in all it was a hard slog with with an especially steep climb in Rochester. I met up with my father Charlie in a place call bridge, just Canterbury which reminded me of the town brie in the Lord of the rings not least of which as I planed to meet a ... We made it on to a rather late ferry and and I find myself writing this at 1:10am in a hotel on the out skirts of Calais. Night, Night.
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