China to the UK by bike - Chapter 7

The home of cycling

Fulfilling a dream of Turan’s with the culinary delights of three different countries in a day

Three countries one day. Breakfast in Germany (continental style, breads, cheeses and spreads), lunch in the Netherlands (crepes) and dinner in Belgium (speciality fries), fulfilled a dream of Turan’s, to be able to have each meal in a different country. Not something I would have aimed to do on my own, but with the end of my trip rapidly approaching I was missing her more and more. The rapid canter across the Netherlands and Belgium was one to remember for the cycling too. They are the epitome of cycling-crazy countries, with the cycleways and bikes almost appearing to be given priority over cars - what a nicer place the world would be if every country was like Belgium. I chatted to other cyclists as we shared the paths, marvelled at them showing off their cyclocross skills, running up and down the stairs leading down to the cycle tunnel under the river in Antwerp, and generally revelled in the flat, picturesque countryside. I completed my longest day of the trip, completing 217km and bedding down next to a canal in Ghent as the sun set (illegal, but no one cares when you have packed the tent up by sunrise the next day). The ferry from Dunkirk to Britain felt so close, and I set off full of determination to make it all the way to London the following day, and celebrate by staying with my friends Lucy and Robbie there on arrival - a warm bed and friendly faces would certainly be a significant upgrade on the edge of a canal! I was flagging, but following a group of Italian cyclists to the ferry helped, as I desperately hung on to their draft as they powered along.

Getting emotional as the white cliffs of Dover came into view

I made the early afternoon ferry, and the emotions hit. I had been imagining this moment for so long, and it was finally here. I had made it. I stood on deck and watched the white cliffs of Dover appear, scarcely able to process that it had happened. I had set off just 46 days before, not even knowing if I would be able to cross the China-Kazakhstan border, and now I had arrived. It hadn’t been easy, and I would never want to go through any of it again. But in that moment it felt all the sweeter because of the obstacles I had overcome.

The next couple of days was a blur, and perhaps lacking in the triumphant feelings I had expected. UK roads turned out to be some of the worst of the trip, and I was hit by a car for the first time at a roundabout on the edge of London. I escaped injury and even avoided falling, but the incident put it into perspective for me - the UK was far from the Mecca of cycling that I had been used to in Belgium, Germany and the Netherlands. I meandered my way across the south of England towards Bristol, where I planned to meet my mum and a few other relatives at the seaside town of Clevedon and to finish with a parkrun, a UK institution, where runners of all abilities join a free weekly ‘race’ at parks around the country on Saturday mornings. We would then cycle the last 20km together to my grandparents village on the edge of Bristol to officially finish the trip. It was a fitting end to the trip, and nice to be able to share it with family. But by this point I was emotionally spent - I had used every emotion I had digging myself out of the deep hole I had put myself in through Serbia, Hungary and Austria, and I had no emotions left with which to celebrate.

My family met me at Clevedon Park Run for the last leg, where I also ran into Ed Pratt, who had cycled aroung the world on a unicycle in 2015

It was a weird state of mind to end the trip in, but at the same time fitting. I had been through so much discomfort and pain over the last seven weeks, and it would take time for the memory of that pain to fade, and to find any motivation to do something similar again. The only feeling that remained was that I wanted to be with Turan again. I longed for 19th June to arrive and for us to be reunited. If cycle touring taught me anything, it was that when everything is stripped away and you have nothing, only the most important things mean anything. In that moment, being with Turan meant everything.