The Tour de East Anglia

To the Giro D’Italia, the Vuelta a Espana, and of course “La Grand Boucle” itself can now be added the Tour De East Anglia – the only endurance cycling championship to involve a time-trial ferry crossing and very few hills.

The much-awaited three day training ride from Cambridge to Burnham-Overy-Staithe (on the North Norfolk coast), to Aldeburgh in Suffolk and back, encompassing 260 miles of some of Britain’s finest countryside – and the fens – began at 3pm on Saturday 15^th July. The mood in the camp was upbeat, a heady cocktail of excitement, anticipation and the merest hint of trepidation: if this didn’t go well, our chances of making it to Casablanca in one piece would look decidedly slim. For my part (it’s Tom here by the way), my relative lack of training due to late-finishing exams has left a bit of a fitness deficit, and just the thought of a disapproving look from “Our Glorious Leader” George was sending shivers up and down my spine.

Pre-match nerves? We shouldn’t have bothered. In beautiful sunshine and with a generous tailwind we cruised the 80 miles to balmy Norfolk in under four cycling hours, with an average speed of over 16 mph and little in the way of stops. This was a lesson in how much fun the trip will be on those rare moments when the ground is flat, the legs are fresh and the breeze is favourable. Cruising up to Hugh’s house, barely five miles away from our spiritual home Coastguard Cottage (Rory’s gaff), we were greeted by a crowd of friends and family brandishing masses of BBQ’d food. As George administered a bit of sports massage I reflected on a day of pure cycling heaven.

The next morning dawned with the realization that a big day lie ahead. Having benefitted from some sage advice from our elders and betters (Jeremy Davidson – “I’d leave the tents and just sleep under a bridge”) and a surprisingly comfortable night in our small but perfectly-formed tents (thanks Hugh), we devoured a fantastic breakfast and embarked on the 95 mile hike to Nat’s grandparents’ house near Sizewell, a stones-throw from Thorpeness. After a slow start ironing out some early niggles and faced with a stiff breeze, the miles began to disappear and before we knew it we had reached Reedham, a picturesque village in the heart of the Norfolk broads. Armed with a pub-lunch and some local knowledge we crossed the broads by ferry and continued to pound southwards. By the end I was beginning to tighten up, but eventually we made it to Richard and Elspeth Gimson’s beautiful house overlooking the beach. After what can only be described as a bracing dip in the sea, we yet again shovelled a truly ridiculous amount of wonderful food. George put in a fabulous performance with the plate, tearing up the formbook to outstrip the resident champion Ed by three huge helpings to two. Whilst Ed licked his wounds and George settled down to a bout of serious indigestion, the rest of the team just managed to catch extra time where despite outrageous flair on and off the ball the Dutch were cruelly denied in the World Cup final (Hup Holland!).

Over dinner, Nat’s grandpa mentioned that Thorpe Ness received so little rain it in fact qualified as a desert. Unfortunately for us, all of that rain proceeded to fall in the ensuing 8 hours. Whilst the tents held up pluckily, we set off chilly, damp and poorly rested for the 85 miles home to a warm bed and an isotonic beverage, and unfortunately worse was to come. A couple of hours in, the heavens opened again with a truly biblical downpour that turned roads into rivers and made cycling uncomfortable at best, and dangerous at worst. Taking immediate cover and fashioning impromptu waterproofs from bin bags (a resounding success for which I humbly take full credit) we were eventually forced to stop for an extended lunch whilst the rest blew over. The final leg was mercifully conducted in glorious sunshine through the beautiful Suffolk countryside, and despite a leg-sapping late-afternoon “mountain stage”, by the time we cruised into Cambridge the mood in the peloton was resurgent.

Overall the trip was a fantastic experience, and far more enjoyable than we expected. Both kit and legs seemed to withstand the test, and as I write I can barely contain my excitement for the real thing. Throughout the preparation we have all been encouraged by the fantastic response to the expedition on the Just Giving page, and we all hope as a team that we can do justice to everyone’s generosity in the weeks ahead. Finally I must give a tremendous vote of thanks to Ceri and Giles Pemberton (Hugh’s parents), and to Richard and Elspeth Gimson (Nat’s grandparents) for putting us up and providing truly epic sustenance.

Over and out.