Well, a day has passed since our arrival. IBC is now fully underway and I bump into many friends & colleagues as I prepare for my session. Time to take stock of the experience.
Things I'm glad I took:
Waterproof covers for my bike bags - no fun arriving at the destination and the clothes you want to change into are also damp.
Spare inner tubes. The thought of finding & then fixing a puncture in the rain, with 9 pairs of eyes looking on doesn't bear contemplation.
The iPod. My team-mates frowned upon this (mainly when they were shouting commands to me), but it kept me going as my spirits flagged.
Bike shorts. Everything I was told about them is true - embarrassing to wear, but hugely practical. Saved my bum (& the rest).
Boxer shorts. God, I couldn't wait to peel off the bike shorts every evening.
No rucksack. Everything on the bike. Nothing to carry. That's the way to go.
Fluorescent jacket. It gets scary out there as dusk falls.
A sense of humour.
Lots of pictures.
Lem-Sip!
Some Vignettes
Gabriel's amazing turn of speed on his folding bike - always the first to dash off on errands (like chasing me down a long hill in Harwich to get me back on track).
Dean's bike, that he seems to have borrowed from his grandma. Where others have panniers, he has a Waitrose bag lashed to the back.
Chris Hulme gradually shedding garments and safety gear to increasingly look like the Tour de France hopeful from Belleville Rendezvous - (compare).
The agony of being tailed by 'Red Top' Rhys and hearing him freewheeling at least half the time he's there, while I am having to pedal continually just to keep going.
Nigel's voluminous waterproof panniers, looking more like two wheelie bins strapped to the back. They hold all his worldly possessions, including a proper suit that he wears in the evenings.
Chris Yanda's endless stream of amusing comments. A witty riposte for every occasion.
Adrian's crazy helmet-mounted camera, filming us all from his position at the front: "You are a coal miner, no?" asks the man serving us coffees.
Chris Hulme, continually riding in the leader's slipstream. When I find I am actually in front, he's more of a 'presence', so close I can't even see him when I look back.
Regularly being overtaken by tall blonde teenagers with their flawless looks and riding their rattly Dutch bikes. Somehow puts everything in perspective.