The alarm was far earlier than I wanted but probably as early as was needed. I packed up after another cold night and hit the road.
Consulting the tracker I noticed that Laurence had stopped for the night only 1km further up the road than me and I seemingly passed him before he’d woken up.
The easterly route was again through country lanes and rural villages stopping only for nature and to have some of the very few remaining snacks that I had before I bumped into another ride about 50km in at a cafe in Roz-sur-Couesnon where we warmed up, got some more food and drink down us and answered natures call in one of the nicest toilets I’d encountered so far on this trip.
Laurence then joined us but being a far more efficient man, was in and out quite quickly. The appeal of Mont Saint-Michel a mere 15km away and the ferry being non-negotiable at the end of the day meant that I should get a wiggle on and chase on.
Straight out of the town there was a drop down to a flat plain where Mont Saint-Michel was visible in the distance over the low fog which was stunning even to my weary eyes.
Following small bike paths with yet a little bit more gravel than advertised it spat me out on the road extending out into the English Channel out to Mont Saint-Michel. I’d not been before so it was a remarkable sight to behold, something I’d definitely have to come back out and see with a bit more time on my hands.
I rode up to it, took some photos, placed my hand on it before scooting round and heading for the ferry only 173km away not too long after 8:30. This meant that my average elapsed speed required for the day was now under 13kmph which seemed very doable, especially as I had already had a big break at breakfast.
I caught up with another rider and were chatting as we were riding along and both complained about how we were still pretty sleepy. Seems like cutting sleep short to make the ferry was a common theme. One of us mentioned the idea of a 30 minute nap which sounded really appealing. Maybe it would rejuvenate us?
We pulled over into a field, laid out bikes down, used our own saddle packs as a pillow and dozed until the alarm went off and the results were remarkable, it genuinely had a noticeable difference to how we both felt.
Which was good as straight after we got back on the bike we had a bit of a climb ahead of us. The top of which hosted a supermarket. The timing wasn’t ideal as we’d already just had a break but given the remote nature of the route we stopped, stocked up on food and drinks whilst getting some shade and keeping out of the growing heat.
I had originally put my ferry for Day 6 of the ride so I needed to change my ticket as the ferry for this evening was in sight (barring any disaster) so I enlisted the help of my retired parents who would be more than willing to help me out and save me the time and hassle. They’d also probably be far more competent at it given that I wasn’t running on all cylinders and would likely rebook it for the correct day the following year or something.
The road is considerably hillier than the morning had been so maybe all that rest wasn’t the worst idea in the world. I pass some riders and ride with them for a chat. It is the first time in quite a while that I pass some people who are on the short route as our courses diverged during France and that was where we had a distinct difference in miles covered.
Laurence and I reconvene and decide to stop at a quaint French bistro in Montbray where there is a buffet. Laurence immediately orders a half pint, inhales it, and orders a second whilst we top up our plates for thirds much to the dismay of the other patrons.
Before long we’re back out on the road in the glorious sunshine of the day feeling refreshed by the most real and fresh food I’ve had in quite a while.
We chat about all things life, riding and the race and pootle along to Bayeux where the cathedral is equally as appealing as the McDonalds. Laurence had been here on a school trip and enlightened me about the Bayeux Tapestry however if I’m honest, none of it went in (sorry).
Several other riders are topping up their stores at the establishment and I treat myself to several portions of chips (sadly the McPlant hasn’t made its was to this particular branch) and we set off. We have plenty of time to make the ferry but don’t want to leave anything to chance or stupidly miss the ferry by a couple of minutes.
Just as we pull onto the bike path, disaster strikes. Laurence, who has been dealing with a broken spoke the entire time has a puncture to add to his wheel woes. Being the gentleman he is he insisted that I go on to make sure I get the ferry rather than stay and help but I lend him my pump which appears to do a better job than his does.
The route along the northern coast of France is very pretty but is both hillier and more gravely than forecast so I am glad to have the extra time to take it a bit slower over the gravel, don’t want to have to deal with a puncture.
After stopping to help one of the short course riders get their chain back on after it had come off, my karma was met with a brutal headwind slowing everything up. Taking into account the fact that I fancied getting some food before getting on the ferry I had enough time to deal with 1 small mechanical issue like a puncture but not wanting to get too confident in my sleep deprived maths ability, I pressed on.
The miles ticked on by as I made my way through the last couple of towns along the coast before swinging south into Ouistreham to a sea of bikes at a bar/restaurant. Parking my bike up and chatting to a few people there I noticed there wasn’t anything vegan on the menu so I got back on the bike, rode to a local pizza place and ordered 2.
Unsure of the exact timings that check in closed, I ate one and took one for the road whilst noticing that on the tracker, Loz and Raph were closing in on Ouistreham but they’d be cutting it very fine as they still had a little bit to do.
I entered the sea port and queued up with all the other riders checking my phone every 10 minutes to check on Loz and Raph. They were making fine progress but were cutting it fine. Amazingly, with 5 minutes to go until the end of checkin, they rolled around the corner much to everyones amazement.
They were a bit broken physically but mentally were so relieved that they’d made this put them in a good mood.
Whilst my parents were able to sort out my ticket being switched over, sadly there were no spare rooms that I could have so after some ferry food, I washed some kit in the showers, hung them up to dry in the seating area, found a patch of the floor that no one else had claimed and got some shut eye, preparing myself for what was the hilly part of the race.
My Belated Gap Year 
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