it’s ferry hard

It’s the first opportunity to note anything down; I’m not cycling, buying food, stretching and eating, putting up a tent, packing bags, or checking maps. Instead I’m pressed against the window of a ferry with my phone charging and an espresso.

So how have the last few days been?

A whole range of things. There have been gorgeous vistas to cycle through: mountains illuminated in golden light, smooth rolling green hills peppered with hay bales and windmills, patchwork fields, and deep turquoise rivers. Cycling in dynamic groups, switching people and places every few kilometres depending on when we stop for food, water, and sleep and how fast we can tackle each hill. Cheerful smiles and slowly attaching names to familiar faces after crossing paths repeatedly brightens the long days too. We’ve had a few downpours, but thanks to the Swansea climate these have been easy to tackle. The 35c heat though, that will be happily left behind us given the recent episodes of heatstroke.

There’s been a few mishaps too. On day 4, I cycled 60km in the opposite direction leaving me with an extra 120km to cover. This mistake has left me with a heavy feeling of inability and a little tearful. Despite this, we managed to bash out 310km to catch up! I’ve fallen off my bike (smashing a jar of peanut butter and cutting my knee), spent hours in tears, and both my garmin and headphones are being temperamental.

But taking energy from my friends and family back home, a need to shift mindsets has become apparent. Finishing NC4k is the goal, no matter the time. This means smaller, more consistent, increases in distance and tackling challenges as they arrive. And there have been plenty - water system breaking, falling off my bike (twice!), garmin not working, all food shops being closed, bags breaking. Every day there are so many hours in which things can go wrong, and they do.

But in those moments, when tears stream while my legs pedal, I’m reminded why I’m doing this and the constant challenges my brother and his wife face.

During these first days of NC4K, baby J has been in hospital. Plans have shifted around him and his mother with changing blood results, awaiting imaging, and input from multiple hospital teams while they wait on the ward. While this has the benefit of numerous cute photos of a yoghurt coated Baby J, it throws chaos into the usual patterns of family life and raises anxiety in the family.

While I regularly drink and eat on my bike, baby J’s nasogastric feed is regularly filled. As I scan my body for aches and pains, his abdomen is scanned for signs of necrosis. While I pop plasters on my knees and hands, doctors plaster up his venipuncture sites. It doesn’t feel fair that he should experience all this so young.