Did we make it ???
Here it is, the final day of riding, at the van for 7 am, finally a later alarm call as even Pugsatawney Phil had had enough of 5:45. All packed at the hotel and after the usual ritual at the van we hit the road.
I had mixed emotions, there was the excitement of a child on Christmas Eve wanting to get to Monte Carlo, then on to Italy (would we make it to Italy?) but then also the slight tinge of sadness that this was the last day and the adventure was ending.
Off we went, heading for the sea front at Nice. It wasn’t long before the Garmin did it’s usual "slight detour" and as we headed through Nice airport we noticed the sign above the lane stated “KISS AND DROP”. I had a giggle at that one as it was just a touch more romantic than the equivalent "arrivals" in Manchester.
As we passed through we noticed that the fence was reinforced with razor wire and parked within feet of us were all the private jets, lined up ready for the next flight. What a sight to see these amazing machines in a row all well capable of making our 8 day journey in under 2 hours.
The peace was interrupted by an aircraft taking off, we watched as it gained height and banked right out to sea. The sun glistening on its wing and fuselage, I commented to Richard what a view it was as it climbed into the cloudless sky and he agreed.
Oh I do like to be beside the seaside
Finally we managed to get on the promenade, it was busy with cyclist, joggers, runners roller blades and long boarders. The stoney beach was busy with sunbathers and swimmers and it was only 9 am.
The sea looked stunning so we stopped, walked to the waters edge and let our front wheel touch the water. I have no clue why it just felt like the right thing to do to mark the fact we had arrived at the Mediterranean Sea. We could go no further south without getting very wet and I paused to think what an achievement this was.
Pictures taken, we set off through Nice heading to the target destination of Monte Carlo. My Gopro camera was working hard, so many memories to capture, including comments of the riders as we closed in on the famous city (enough said on that I think).
We passed bays with large cruise liners and private yachts of the type a lottery winner may own. Then looking for the sign to say we arrived, the harbor just appeared, that was it we were in Monte Carlo!
There were big smiles all round, hand shakes and pats on the back, Bob and Barry had followed us in by the most precise timing we had all trip to be there with us celebrating.
Donning our Tee shirts for the official photographs it was a free for all, with phones and cameras coming from all angles for the money shot by the yachts.
Someone shouted "Beer!" and that was it; we were off to the first cafe/bar we could see. The beer always taste better for some reason when its been earned and after 8.5 days this was well and truly earned.
Facebook was updated and the comments from friends and families at home were immense. We were all very emotional as the sense of excitement and sadness was multiplied with the actual acheivement.
The beer was quickly drunk and to celebrate we thought of only one thing; A quick bike ride.
We headed east along the coast to Italy, only a short 18 kilometers away but with the chance to add another country to the list why not? The heat by now was intense and very clammy, we pressed on following the sign ITALIE, then in the distance we could see it, the border control.
With our passports in our pockets we cycled through. It wasn’t the high we imagined as to our right along the sea wall was red cross gazebo’s full of aid relief for the refugees who we imagined had fled on boats and arrived in Italy. We later learned France was not allowing them to cross the border, it wasn’t the best sight or time to celebrate.
With pictures taken quickly at the Italy sign we rode back into France. The support bus arrived, Bob decided he wanted to cross the border, so he borrowed on of the bikes and he was off returning a short time later after the Garmin sent him the wrong way (joke!).
Bikes loaded, Gary, Paul and Barry Williams were to be dropped off at the airport as they were flying home. We said our farewells and we were off heading west initially then on to Lyon for our over night stay.
The cycle ride was truly over, we had done it.
EPILOUGUE
Day two on the journey home, I’m in the rear seats, headphones on, plugged into my iPod, listening to Green Day. I’m then aware of Richard looking over from the next row, towards the rear of the bus, I take my headphones off and ask
"Are You ok?"
Richard replied “yes. We’ve picked something up. There’s a strange noise coming from the back, Listen".
I hear it. It must be a rabbit, somethings alive in the rear, (maybe it's a banana skin?). Having seen the refugees at the Italian/French border, and then approaching the port of Calais, with the refugee camps there, more serious thoughts may have been crossing people's minds.
"The window wipers are on" I say calmly. They have been on all morning since Lyon and the glass is now screeching in protest. Crisis averted I put my headphones back in and settle back for the journey home.
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