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I had a good day at work today – it was exciting to go through my rather large inbox and deposit paperwork around the office for other people to work through whilst I had a lovely long break. Or would I? While I started to come to terms with the fact that it looked like I really would be heading off in the morning to cycle the length of the UK, our tour guides extraordinaire were already chugging along on a 12-hour, perfectly timed train journey to Penzance.

I spent the evening packing my stuff, whilst David (or Bert from here on in) watched, only realising at about midnight that he also should be doing something… true to form. All set by 2am, having hastily set up a ‘Just Giving’ page in recognition that, yes, I really was planning to do a mega bike ride in the morning. 

Meanwhile, in the Penzance YHA, Arthur and Calum ate pizza, looked at the rain, and met a lovely lass called Jane in the kitchen.

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Got up and left home at about 8:15am, allowing time for puncture mending without missing the train if necessary (and having a new toolkit in my new waterproof Ortlieb panniers, I was ready for action). Bert and I travelled south admiring the flooded land along the way, whilst our patient comrades idled in cafes – we heard a rumour about some confusion re table service, but the long wait was welcome as it helped them dodge the cold and wet. 

We met some lads on the train who were doing LEJOG over three weeks like us, but they were camping and climbing the ‘three peaks’ along the way… we also met some lads who were cycling back to Bristol; I felt quietly proud that I was doing ‘the real thing’. Arrived in Penzance at 1:30pm and I met Calum for the first time, and Arthur for the second. I was really nervous, though I did feel quite groovy in my new ¾ length waterproof trousers. But how would I keep up with these bicycling experts? How long would it take them to realise that I was a complete novice? Would they be very annoyed when I held them back? Bert took the pressure off me by being overly excited to see his friends, and after discussing our lack of luggage (two panniers each, not four) we set off down the A30 to Land’s End, with me pedalling like crazy in my personal bid to hide my ‘novice-ness’ for as long as possible. 

After signing the ‘end to end’ register and taking some photos (along with tantalising promises of the real Arthur’s cycle quest soon to come. Oh no – the British Cycle Quest I mean…or is it the same thing?) we set off to Zennor on the north coast, battling against a low mist, miserable drizzle and what I thought was a strong wind (but wasn’t mentioned by the others, leading me to quietly conclude that I must be a lightweight and so put on a brave, nonchalant face when we arrived, despite the fact I was already wondering how on earth I would get through tomorrow). 

The hostel was a lovely converted chapel, though with no kitchen and tiny rooms. I quickly migrated from an overcrowded girls dorm into the boys more spacious room, and we headed to the pub next door for delicious food and wine. The boys had beer, but Calum’s Zennor Mermaid was too strong for him, leading to the barmaid suggesting he hold back from a third pint. 

Before bedtime we walked along the path to the shore (not to the field) to check out the views; Arthur played on a stone cattle grid so that David could fulfil his photography aspirations; and then I answered my first ever BCQ, which was strangely disappointing in its level of difficulty. Back at the hostel Bert managed to entice three Romanians and an English lady into a random conversation. Good to see he’s the same wherever he goes. I was bemused to almost witness ‘fisticuffs’ between Calum and Bert at bedtime when the last to bed forgot to turn the light off, ensuing in a rather confused discussion and a lack of reading progress for Calum, who by the end of day one had only reached page 21. 

Highlight of the day: Calum discovered Cornish pasties made with cheese and not meat. Or should it be that a legend was discovered, and we would experience that legend for the next three weeks?

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Sunshine! Definitely helped me in my mini-motivational private talk that I could survive the day. That along with the crumpets for breakfast. Even better, the boys had decided that they would walk up the one-way steep hill out of Zennor, meaning I wouldn’t have to embarrass myself in the first five minutes of the day. First hurdle overcome. 

We cycled back along the road the way we had come for a short distance, and then to my horror the boys turned left to head up and over the large hill between the north and the south coast; the very hill I had spotted and been so pleased not to be going up yesterday. I puffed and panted up much of it, and the others got far enough ahead that I could sneakily get off my bike and push for a while with nobody noticing. Bonus. Second hurdle overcome. 

When I reached the top, Arthur was beeping crazily as a host of “Tour de France” texts came through from the night before when we had no signal. I used the break to text my brother an SOS: “This is killing me!” 

It was 10:09am on our first full day… We set off down the other side (much easier) and joined a lovely coastal path along the beach by Penzance with views of St Michael’s Mount. 

Carried on inland, uphill mainly, and cycled through our first flood of the trip just before Nancegollan, which definitely deserved a photo shoot session and meant me cycling backwards and forwards a few times. Pushed up a particularly steep hill, and on rounding the bend at the top discovered the others sitting waiting for me – caught red handed! The pretence was over and my secret out – I cannot do hills. Crashed and burned at the third hurdle. Calum calmly offered me a nut, and everybody was too polite to point out my severe lack of fitness. I felt like the elephant in the room was out on the loose; a novice had snuck in to the highly trained, highly efficient, LEJOG Team 2012. The moment passed, the boys pointed me in the right direction, and we eventually dropped down to Falmouth where we had lunch on the pier. 

Beginning to feel like a semi-pro, I admired the beginnings of my cycling glove tan before ducking off to the ladies to lather on a second generous helping of Hoo Ha Glide Ride. Nothing was going to stop me now! 

On returning to the table, Calum was a distance away chatting with Lynn. Interrupted by squawking, Calum explained to Lynn that the seagulls were rather noisy and returned to eat his lunch, part of which had disappeared with said seagulls. I’m sure they enjoyed the cranberry and white chocolate tiffin… must be quite a change from fish. Lynn received a follow up call to explain the squawking with news of the recent theft. 

We had to remove our panniers to take the bikes down some steep, angular, stone steps to take a ferry over to St Mawes. Girly status proved useful as I got to stand and mind the panniers whilst the bikes were treacherously transported. We then cycled the remainder of the day up and down a myriad of hills, including one particularly large downhill where I nearly lost it on reaching a 90-degree bend at the bottom on a wet surface. Recovered well and felt proud, if not a little scared. 

Got to Boswinger YHA with the sun still out and found myself in a large dorm with one other person, a lovely lass called Jane. When I told her what I was doing, she seemed suitably impressed and reported that she’d met a Scottish chap in Penzance who was doing the same thing. “That’d be Calum” I told her, and pointed at him out the window. So began a new friendship that traversed the counties to Somerset. 

Calum cooked pasta. Arthur made notes in his log. I washed some clothes in a desperate bid to stay ahead of the game. Bert? Probably found somebody to have a random conversation with. Ate outside in the courtyard. Calum lamented his patches of sunburn and I chose to get an early night in a bid to be well rested for the morn.