At 5.30am the local council started to power wash the streets outside the hotel complete with loud Diesel engine and a truck that always seemed to be in reverse. Lovely.
There’s a definite buzz among the weary cyclists this morning at breakfast as the end of the journey is in sight. Whether it's the distant promise of a hot bath for tired limbs or being reunited with loved ones,the air of expectation is palpable. We take a group photograph at the marina and our cycle starts along the coast and up into the foothills. Up. Always up. My legs are in full retreat now and I take any opportunity to freewheel. From the hills you can see the flat coast road we could have taken. But that wouldn't be in the spirit of the trip.
There is a brief water and snack stop before we head back inland through the magnificent Cap Esterel overlooking the Mediterranean. This part of the journey truly is amazing. Cap Esterel is a national park where spaghetti westerns used to be filmed. It has that Clint Eastwood feel to it. After the wild boar incident yesterday, being chased by Indians doesn't seem an impossibility.
It's a tough enough climb but you’re soon distracted by the outrageous beauty of the scenery. This is cycling at its best for me - an almost meditative state where all there is are the sound of gears, your breath and nature all around.
You lose yourself and all your petty worries seem to slide away and vanish. In my case, I literally lose myself… Taking a wrong turn at a junction and cycling 4kms uphill alone before the inevitable phone call. ‘Eh, where are you?’, our ever patient guide, Clare says. She sets me back on the straight and narrow (and hilly) road. An extra 8kms. Ahhhhhh!!!!!!!
We all meet at the top and take in the well-earned view. After the downhill, a quick lunch stop sees our vegetarian colleague, Martin get a truly nice sandwich for the first time, which probably says something about the sophistication of the riviera. Martin is one of two vegetarians on the trip who have been awfully unlucky with the French interpretation of vegetarianism. Having seen how they treat wild boars, it's hardly surprising that he often got a bowl of scrambled eggs and a derisory look from our hotel waiters on the trip. It seems meat-eating is considered de rigueur through much of France.
Our last few miles see us make our way along the glamorous but really busy resorts of Cannes and Antibes. We take envious glimpses of swimmers and sunbathers on the beaches. The heat is intense but so is the pace. We’re all riding together so got to keep up.
If I keep the sea to my right, there's no way I can get lost, right? I mean left. I think. Paul's FitBit tells us we’ve burned 5,000 calories. He needs a new one.
Soon we hit Nice and onto the famous Promenade des Anglais. This year, we don't finish on the Promenade as in previous years out of respect for those who died in this very spot only a few months ago.
The armed soldiers and police greet us warmly as we cycle by and converge safely outside the very fancy Beau Rivage Hotel. There we are all greeted by friends and family who have extended a welcome banner across the road.
It's an emotional reunion as well as an ending of something quite remarkable. It's hard to explain the feeling. There have been close bonds formed over the last few days, forged among grinding gears, punctures and unflatteringly tight Lycra.
The cycle itself was born out of a collective will to do something extraordinary. For many, who only took up cycling in the last 12 months, it is an extraordinary achievement . With over €400k raised for various charities, 720km under our, in some cases, sizeable belts everyone involved can be rightly commended for their efforts.
Kudos also must go to Tom Kennedy and Paddy Holohan whose brainchild the whole Paris2Nice endeavour is. Now in it’s 6th year, it has collectively raised over 3 million euro so far for many different Irish charities… And burned many more times that in calories.
For me it's been a mixed experience. I've made some new friends. Become closer to existing friends. I've laughed a lot. I've ate a lot. I’ve cried as sad thoughts become amplified through a haze of exhaustion. I've missed my family. My mum. I've made resolutions. Some I can't remember. I've regretted not training. I'd like to say properly but the truth is I got the bike in July and went out 5 times. Not good.
Would I do it again? Yes.
Raising funds is difficult and humbling. The recent charity scandal makes it harder.
Thanks to everyone who helped in anyway. I appreciate it. A few drinks tonight and kebabs spent in the company of my cycling friends.
Then tomorrow I'm going shopping for a new ass.
Oh and thank you Sudocrem. Invented by an Irish man. Babies don't realise how good they have it.
If you’d like to cycle Paris to Nice for your charity, contact Paris2Nice.
