But...no...must...resist...sleep...then the alarm goes off and I cross the boundary towards being awake. I really needed that annoying buzzing sound to get me into action. Then I used an imaginary hoist to pull me out of bed. 08.30 my phone said it was. And I didn't exactly feel very energetic as I had only just set the alarm about 6 hours earlier as this was the time I finally managed to hit the sack after spending another late night at work. Serious sleep deprivation really is not the best way to prepare for cycling 1100 miles in 10 days, but then money also needs to be earned and I was bent on finishing all of my work before setting off. I do take pride in my work you see. But I have a feeling my dedication will come back and bite me in the ass big time in the days ahead. And probably seriously so.
A good hour (or so) later I am finally packed up. We put everything in the car and drive the 200 meters and 4 corners to Ollie's place. Ian had crashed on Ollie's sofa after having driven over from Cardiff the night before, and as we pull up I see that the front garden and hallway are already filled with things to go in the car. And, as I get out of the car I see there is more in the house. And in the garage, too. Oh boy... packing this car will be where the 2010 Challenge starts... Luckily though, I once went on a 13,000 km drive around the South Western states of the USA for weeks on end with my then girlfriend, which turned me into a 'packer extraordinaire'. The car we were travelling in was one of those old style Golf Convertibles, which had a boot the size of, well, a spare tyre give or take a Snickers bar. So after everyone had had a go I just pulled everything back out of the car (to their chagrin), got rid of packaging materials and boxes (while they commented 'what difference will that make') and Tetris stylee I repacked the whole lot. And it all went in. Beautifully. And then we were finally ready to go. A quick coffee later, and off we went. Or so we thought.
A strange ticking sound was coming from under the bonnet of Ollie's Saab. A sound that after closer inspection turned out to come from one of the fuses. And then we found the car had no power. It did not start. In fact, it didn't even turn over. No response. Nada. Zilch. Even the lightbulbs only managed a very faint orangey glow from the filament. Oh SH!T. We managed to jumpstart the car with the leads Ollie's neighbour kindly lent to us, and Ollie quickly took the car for a spin around the block to put some juice in the battery. Then Dirk started to complain he burnt his hand while taking the very hot clamp off the battery... I lent him my frozen can of Guinness (forgot it in the freezer the night before) so he could 'ice' it. Ollie returned, we all piled in, and off we went. Then I noticed a rather peculiar sound coming from the rear right wheel suspension... but as it was now already around the midday mark (so much for the original plan to leave at 7...) we thought we'd best press on.
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Then the next mishap struck. I had been banking on working in the car to finish a translation for the Austrian FA, but then found that the inverters connected to the cigarette lighters returned no power, likely due to the earlier fuse problems. With absolutely nothing I could do about it (force majeure) I closed my eyes, pulled the Brixton Cycles musette over my eyes and tried to catch some much needed sleep. In the meantime, Dirk was still holding the slowly defrosting can of Guinness to cool the burn on his hand, now slowly turning into a Guinness Slush Puppie. On a hot day like this a plan was quickly hatched to let it near a level where it would be consumable so we could enjoy some of the best slushy ice cream imaginable...lol.
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