As I sit here writing this, I gaze out at the delights that are aboard the Sienna Britannica. Small children run freely too and fro with old Dutch people looking nervous as they carry their tea from the canteen to the massive bench that they have nabbed. Even though there are only two of them and the bench seats a good six people, and we are left in the office like chairs that inhabit "food city"...but enough ranting, as here begins the trip for myself.
Having said goodbye to Ellie, Charlotte and Tom at the bottom of my hill a few days previously; a change of plans had lead to me being able to join them, along with Dave, on the European Tour. So in double quick time I went about getting ready to meet them up at Harwich on Friday(23rd). With help from Ellie, we got intouch with Evan's Cycles in Manchester. Many thanks to Trev up in the Manchester store for sorting me out with discount and also sourcing me a bike down in London. Managing to find me the same bike as Ellie's, he put me intouch with Jack at the Notting Hill Evan's Cycles.
After a couple of trips down into Notting Hill, and some very good advice from Jack and his collegues at the shop, I found myself pretty well sorted for kit. Thanks!
Packing was dull....no worse than dull...soul destroying. Looking at the mountain of kit that littered my living room floor and wondering how on earth it was going to fit into my panniers. Thanks to my Grandparents for coming over to say hello and providing food, as I was struggling to do anything else but pack.
Timings did slip a little bit with regard to getting moving. Originally I was meant to meet Dave at London Liverpool Street Station at 1630; however I decided to push back this timing and make my own was to Harwich later.
Getting a lift in from my Dad, I arrived at the station raring to go! I subsequently missed my train and had to sit aboout for a further hour! This was not the fault of my Father, who applied all of his London knowledge to get me there on time. It was the fact that it seems all Londoners who use ticket machines at stations are incompetent and lack spare mental capacity!
Once aboard the "Gurhka Express" (actual name...nearly), I met my first bike tourer. Paul, who had nationality in the UK, Australia and the US, was a self employed electrician who spent his year working 'a bit', as he put it, and the rest of the time cycling. I, knowing nothing of the sport, sat like a spong soaking up his knowledge for the next hour until we arrived in Harwich.
Off the train and into the dark...Dave, after meeting me at the station took me down a dirt track to the secret hide out of Team Bavarian Cycle Lion, currently deployed in Operation Pedal Paw in a weak representaion of an Platoon Harbour, with no clearly defined arcs or paths...
Tom was pissed/starting to get hungover due to his wine and the 60 miles he had cycled. I soon curled up, after packing my kit, and listened to the melodic sounds of the swarming mosquitos as I dozed off.
This morning brought light and the ferry. Free breakfasts and trips up to the bridge have made the 7 hour journey fly by...at about 20kts...eeurgh! And this is where we circle back to the here and now....sat watching life aboard the Sienna Britannica bound for Holland.
It's a mini adventure...
Rob....who is very much not the FNG
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