I don't think this has fully sunk in yet. To cycle away from ones home and from one's family - from the comforts in life knowing that your not going to see them for months was tough - I suspect though there is a good deal of emotion to come out over the next few days once the initial excitement dies down.
My intention was to hit the national cycle network just north on Northanpton and cruise down to Dover. Not to be. I got lost within 10 miles in my home town. Not a good start. The cycle network that seemed so easy to follow on my jaunts around the Kentish countryside proved impossible to follow. This would not have been too much trouble if I had a half decent map. Instead I had a few sides of A4 printed off Google.
Whilst I did manage to pick up so,e good routes - The River Lea into London and the Thames path out of it I also spent a fair amount of time going aimlessly around in circles and having little choice but to hit the main roads (the only ones shown on my maps). For your general interest Milton Keynes really is as bad as it sounds and whilst thr ring road is not much fun at the best of times on a bicycle its terrible.
Hitting Kent and in particular East Kent was warming in many ways. I finally knew where I was going, recognised the roads and escaped the traffic but it took one hell of an effort not to cycle through Canterbury on an overcast Sunday evening and not call in at my old home in Cross Street and blag a sofa. I said I would say goodbye to my friends then goodbye to my family and then crack on with it all. I feared it might disrupt my mindset so quitely slipped through the City.
Another night of tresspassing (would hqve been embarrassing to get caught as a know a few of the local farmers) and on to Dover. Whizzed round the castle and ferry to Dunkerque. I chose Dunkerque not Calais beleiving it is closer to my next stop in Milan. I'm not quite sure if that's actually true...
A quick battle with a few HGVs leaving the port - the ferry compant let me off the ramp first as the only cyclist not realising that I had 100+ lorries up my arse overtaking me. Due in part to feeling knackered (especially my quods) and in part due to poor organisation I didn't arrive in France until dusk. With little choice I cycled out of town and camped in woods next to the dual carriageway to spend a night hoing my tent would hold firm during the heavy downpour. Not the best start to France.
Today though has been great - I'm feeling fresher after an easier day yesterday and the Flanders is beautiful, flat, virtually traffic free (I now have a map that shows roads smaller than a six-lane motorway) and save for a stiff cross breeze perfect for cycling.
I need to meander south over the next week as I'm due to meet a Uni friend of mine in Milan some 1000km + away. Makes the 400 km I've done so far look like a warm up...