Sausages and Marmite

As we pedalled away from the last of the send-off party, just 20km south of Manchester, a very sudden silence descended on us.

We were alone for the first time.

No more cameras or “to-do lists” and not a clue where we were sleeping that night. We were doing the thing we said we were gonna do. There was obviously no way to comprehend what we were about to embark on from the start, and I didn’t really want to.

It just felt like we were going on a bike ride, which, in essence, we were. Just a really long one!

 It’s funny when you go on an adventure. You go to places you’ve never been before, despite living only 30 minutes away. We discovered the disused railway and canal cycle path that go all the way from Macclesfield to Stoke. I did the same thing when I cycled around Ireland and discovered ancient valleys and hidden beaches only 30 minutes from my family home. If that isn’t your sign to get out and explore your local area and have a microadventure, then I don’t know what is!

One thing that struck me was how impressive the canal network in the UK is. Growing up, we had a barge called ‘Mischief’.

We would spend weeks on it as kids, down these canals, watching ‘Laurel and Hardy’ with my Grandad before he passed away from Parkinson’s. He was known for his own spirit of ridiculous adventure and it’s definitely where I got mine from.

I felt like I was retracing my childhood as a “grown-up” and I was secretly hoping we would bump into Mischief if she was still out here.

We settled for a humble 75km on the first day and thought we should start as we mean to go on: wild camping in the forest. Liam, the bass player in my band, lives on the RAF base not far away, so he kindly came out to provide a friendly face, and watch us eat Ragu in a plastic bag (Bagu).

Day 2 set the tone for the rest of our time in the UK, reminding us of two things -  how lucky we are to live in such a beautiful country and how generous people really are. I’m a big believer that people are inherently good and my theory was very much reinforced over the coming days.

I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about staying indoors in the UK, as I thought it might be “against the spirit of the game”, but the 35-degree heatwave soon made my decisions for me, and we figured we’d spend enough time slumming it over the next year.

We were incredibly grateful when two friends of the Parkinson’s community, Joanna and Simon, invited us in for a comfy bed and a cold shower. Joanna is the neurophysio who specialises in Parkinson’s for the walking football teams my Mum plays for. Hearing Joanna talk about the impact sport and exercise can have on people living with Parkinson’s was another reminder of exactly why we’re raising £50,000 for Sport Parkinson’s.

Day 3 was actually one of my favourite days ever on the bike, rolling the hills of the Cotswolds (for the first time ever!).

Although it was strange to see the UK so apocalyptically dry, it didn’t detract from the ridiculous architecture and “massive gaffs” that left us with our jaws on the floor all day long. We were fantasising about what these people must do.

Farmers? Lawyers? Bikepackers…?

Probably not.

I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to make a pilgrimage to Chipping Norton to see Diddly Squat Farm Shop and pay homage to a childhood hero of mine in Jeremy Clarkson. It’s hard to explain it, but as we stood there watching the sun go down over the countryside, I was definitely some form of emotional. The dulcet tones of Hammond, May and Clarkson have always felt like a place of solace to me (and I’m sure many other young Brits) growing up with them for the last 20 years. I particularly admire Jeremy’s ability to go outside the norm when it comes to storytelling.

We also found an amazing app for cyclists called “Warmshowers”, which is not as dodgy as it sounds, and is essentially couchsurfing for bike tourers, consisting of like-minded adventure lovers. We cycled 120km to Helen and Rick’s house and were blown away by their reception.

Cold homemade gazpacho on arrival with market-bought tomatoes and a beef bourguignon to follow. We shared stories of travel mishaps, Parkruns and sailing, when Rick suddenly apologised that we may be woken early by the sounds of his meat…

 He was getting up at 6am to make 60 leek and herb sausages in the kitchen- obviously!

After a much-needed sleep and our cups full to the brim, we were sent on our way (with 3 sausages wrapped in tinfoil), Day 4 was set to be our our biggest day EVER on a bicycle. 150km from Woodstock to Oxted.

Bumbling past the historic walls of Oxford and its incredible bike lanes, we slogged our way through a 12-hour day to meet Mandi and Martin, two more friends of the PD community.

Two ‘strangers’ very quickly became life-long friends and, sitting here writing this 10 days later, we still cannot stop talking about the impact they made on us. To be instantly met with such kindness and generosity is a trait I wish to carry forward when we are lucky enough to bring weary travellers into our home one day, when we no longer live in a tent, of course.

After a luxurious rest day by their swimming pool with other great company in Claire, Guy and Agnes, we decided it was clever to set off for some more friends in Dover on the HOTTEST DAY of the year, at a whopping 38.1 degrees. We were sent with Marmite, in case of bad stomachs, and plenty of contacts to link up with around the world!

We were physically melting as we headed through Kent when a car flagged us down and indicated for us to stop. It was Sue, who plays for the Women’s Parkinson’s football team, and she had brought ice lollies, cold water and a magic wet flannel to wrap around our heads.

Combined with the landlord of the pub who gave us lemonade plus cake on the house, and £20 for our GoFundMe, today, and this whole week in the UK, had very much restored our faith in humanity.

Britain gets a bad rap sometimes, but do not believe the media.

Firstly, the UK if very beautiful if you just head out your front door and go somewhere you’ve never been (bonus points if you’re on a bicycle).
Secondly, 99% of the people in this world are good people, and if you allow yourself to be open to meeting them, you will be richer than you could ever imagine.

As we headed for the ferry to Dunkirk, we were actually noticed for the first time from the internet by a father and his son, who could name EVERY country in the world in 59 seconds.

He was trying to meet someone from every single country around the world, and it was heart-warming to share his fascination for the planet we live on.

 As we pedalled off, I asked for their names.

“I’m Stan and this is Oli.”

I laughed.

“Just like Laurel and Hardy.”