Bravo! Encore!

240 miles, a great bunch of people, a few saddle sores and a record amount of money raised for The Big Issue. Hurrah!

As you know, Kate Allsopp and I (with only a little coercing) took the plunge and signed for The Big Issue Foundation’s London to Paris Bike Ride in January. I must point out that at this point we had neither a functioning bicycle, nor the general fitness to pull off a ride to the local shop. Neither of us had any prior knowledge of bikes or cycling, nor quite what this was going to take. As it turns out we would be cycling up to 100 miles a day. Since January we have been on a steep learning curve; everything from changing an inner tube and surviving London’s bus lanes, to map reading and the most effective padded pants! It’s been a big project for us and I know you’ve all heard a lot about it - so thank you for your patience.

21st July - the big off - came around rather quickly; 140 cyclists and their steeds arrived in London. At 9am we rolled off with an impressive support team in tow; 14 guides, 4 medics and a team of vans & support staff loaded to the gunnels. Between us we transported over 200 spare inner tubes and more than 400 sets of lycra down to Portsmouth and across rural Northern France. Consuming huge stocks of cereal bars, energy drinks and later on baguettes, we steamed through to Paris in three long but incredible days. A combination of the seven birthdays celebrated during the trip, and the forecasted ‘torrential rain’ taking pity on us, kept spirits at an all time high. In our team alone we had men and women in their 20s to their 60s; a dairy farmer, a lawyer, a super market trolley fixer… even a Reverend! The camaraderie amongst cyclists was incredible – they really made the trip for us.

This was The Big Issue Foundation’s largest ever bike ride, in fact its largest fundraising event to date. Between all of us we forecast to raise a whopping £200,000!

Kate and I would like to offer you a very humble thank you for your generosity – we were able to raise over £2,000! You have all offered us so much support, not only in terms of sponsorship but also through getting involved – helping us buy our bikes, fix our bikes, learn to ride our bikes, coming on training rides with us, providing a bed & sustenance at the end of a long journey, listening to our endless bicycle related wittering, advising on bottom protection… the list goes on. It’s been great to have so many of you involved and we are very, very grateful. You’re all super!

A special mention must go to the many Allsop(p)s who have been incredibly generous with their sponsorship and support, despite never having met either of us. What a philanthropic breed! We look forward to meeting them all the annual Allsop(p) convention next year!

Much love,

The Allsop(p)s

Oh, and I nearly forgot...

We picked up ANOTHER Allsop(p) in Paris. I think this makes us the Allsoppps? Welcome Anthony!

Look how excited we are!

We did it!

A few photos - just as evidence... More to come once we've recovered sufficiently to sew up the blog X

Two birthdays in our group on our final day. Party hats and whistles were sported for 40 miles until rain and carelessness plucked them from us one by one.



There we are - proof!



The whole gang - 140 strong

Much anticipated ALLSOP(P) cycling jerseys

In front of the Palace of Versaille (unfortunately my head is obscuring it)

Final preparations...

It's all becoming very very real now. Long meetings on the logistics have been sat through, dozens of last minute purchases & bike servicing, endless phone calls, text messages and emails between Kate and I. Even the cat has packed his bags and headed off for his staycation. You can find us surrounded by piles of padded lycra, gel pants, energy drinks, first aid supplies, spare inner tubes and spanners as we attempt to pack light for the days ahead!

Panic has definitely set in.

• But what's the one thing that can temper anticipation (at least temporarily)?
• A huge pink glittery good luck cake fresh from the culinary hands of my superb house mate Natalie Odell. You're worth your wait in raspberry cake. Thank you thank you thank you.

Despite insinutation, i'm assured that's the Eiffel Tower on the right there!

Richmond flanked by the RGS

Frankie flexes his muscles & saves the day 

I've blown up this photo in order that you can just about see Tony's bleeding left knee.
Not on the white socks...! What a trooper.

A large climb to Littlehampton



Kate worked so hard climbing the South Downs that she sweated right through her heavy duty rucksack; drenching our vital directions and tyre changing pointers!







Ahhh sunny June indeed (...via Gran Canaria)

Ok so admittedly I had to travel to just off the coast of Africa in order to smirk smugly at Clare's sopping Converse, but spend all week on a beach when I got there? Pah! Dedicated cyclist that I am, before visiting the charming Seedi (who himself cycled to Paris a couple of years ago) I had informed him keenly that we would have to hire bikes so that I could continue my exercise regime. I began to slightly regret this when I arrived in the kind of blazing hot sunshine that's made for sipping cold beer in rather than hill training. Sip cold beers we did (and plenty) but we did find time to do a lot of walking and to squeeze in a 2-hour cycle around the city of Las Palmas. We were put off from hiring a bike from a rental shop by the 100 Euro deposit and a distinct absence of shop employees (the 'back in 10 minutes' sign displayed all day, only for someone to eventually return our call though not to actually come down into the shop mind, left us wondering whether said deposit would be returned safely).

Plan B was to investigate the city's yellow equivalent to London's Boris bikes. A quick set of forms to fill out and a bike was ours for 3 hours for the princely sum of the cost of a text message (take note Transport for London). So at 6pm, in 30 degree heat, we set off. Having discovered that only the crusty old bikes had baskets (no one wants to wear a backpack in this weather), I tested out brakes, rusty gears, and tyres, and immediately pulled a skid in the middle of the park. The brakes work then. Unfortunately the saddle wouldn't go high enough (I've finally got used to my toes just skimming the ground when I sit on a bike), which was bound to start aching sooner or later. I gingerly followed Seedi, now a little suspicious of my new steed, along lots of nice cycle lanes that were completely separate from the road (take note Transport for London), with the occasional bit of practice at cycling on the right-hand side.

Our aim was to cycle to the top of La Isleta; a place called Las Coloradas, at 239 metres the city’s highest peak, on the port side of the city. I'm not trying to be nautical, there is a port there. Approaching from the industrial side of the hill brought its difficulties, namely that evidentally no one other than us is that bothered about getting to the top of the peak, because there isn't a straight road that goes up there. Cue lots of cycling to dead-ends that finish in warehouses, a few times sailing downhill (past groups of old men taking in the spectacle from a bench) only for us to find that there's just a roundabout and a wall at the end of the road and we have to trek back up the hill again. 'Nevermind', I gasp, 'I did say I needed the hill practice...'. At one point I was about to whimper about taking a break and/or going home and then thought better of it as I remember that the tables have turned in the past 6 months and Seedi is the one that hasn't cycled much in that time, while I'm the one that's about to cycle to Paris in a month (Panic! On Tuesday of this week it was one month to go). All the same, the heat was unbearable. I had sweat rolling down my calves (a first, though perhaps that's one of the rare aesthetic benefits of usually wearing the full length leggings) and wondered how long it would be until I threw up.

We changed tack and got out of the industrial bit of the port, and we were soon on the (very steep) road up to the top of the hill. The views were stunning, and a welcome reward for all our efforts and rickety bikes. Stopped for the obligatory camera poses and on our way to watch a para-glider circling over the shore on the other side of the hill. Cycled back up to the top of the peak and freewheeled all the way back down to the city for a well-earned beer.

I'm kidding. There's no flippin' way we cycled up here. The hike was a good thigh workout though...

This was the peak we actually cycled up. A little less impressive I guess.

A more relaxing way of getting 200 or so metres above sea level.