From Fougères to Rambouillet#
This is the third (and last) part of my PBP 2023 ride story. The previous entries told the story of how we went all the way from Rambouillet to Brest and how, afterwards, we got back from Brest to Fougères.
In the last entry, I left the story when I finally went to sleep in the Ibis Styles hotel in Fougères, a few minutes before 3:00 in the morning.
It is time now to finish this story, the story of a dream come true, and tell you about how we got back to the start point in Rambouillet.
The alarm was set for 06:30. I woke up a few minutes before that and started to gather my things, then got dressed. I checked on the others while Dani and Ferreiro were getting ready. Manolo and Felipe were downstairs, finishing breakfast. We told them we were going for breakfast right away and they decided to wait for us.
We also checked on our friend David, who decided to stay last night at the control, trying to get some sleep there. He sent us a message, he was still in the control. He couldn’t sleep well there and had a bad night, and he was about to leave the control. We agreed on meeting him along the way.
With everything ready in the room, we went downstairs. Manolo and Felipe where sitting at a table, extending breakfast a bit more. It was so cool to finally be together again. The breakfast hall was full of other cyclists, including Manuel, who we met also in the hotel in Brest the previous morning, when we were leaving and he was getting breakfast.
We had a huge breakfast, a feast, and meanwhile we updated each other on the events of the last couple of days.
We also talked a bit about the plans for the day. We had almost 300 km to get back to Rambouillet with 3 controls in between. Our time limit to get there was 10:00 the next day (24th), so we had enough time to even do another sleep stop if needed. The idea, though, was to finish PBP before midnight.
I think I had like three times what I usually would have for breakfast… in the time I usually would have one normal breakfast. Then we went upstairs and picked our bikes and did some more ciclocross to get to the exit.
Outside the day was bright and clear, no fog like the previous morning and the temperature felt a bit higher too. We took a moment to take a group picture in front of the hotel main entrance.
We spent 5 hours and 40 minutes in this stop, with a bit over 3 hours of sleep.
During breakfast we asked Manuel if he would like to join us, and he gladly accepted. He came to do PBP with some friends, but it seemed at some point they had some discrepancies and decided to split ways.
One thing I forgot to do before leaving the hotel, was to replace the battery in the GoPro and, as I was going to realize soon, there won’t be many chances to do so on the road for the next few hours…
We left Fougères around 7:40, on a short hill climb, followed by some more rollercoasters. I felt amazingly good, completely recovered from any tiredness I may had at the end of the previous day. It is really incredible what a few hours of good sleep can do to your body.
Personally, as I told my friends during PBP, for me 3 hours of good sleep is (usually) more than enough to recharge completely. I guess that, in this case, the whole I’m riding PBP excitement also helped keeping me UP at all costs.
That morning it also helped to be back with Manolo. A few minutes after we left town, I took a place by him and we talked for a long time, sharing stories of what happened the last couple of days (and nights). He is a very experienced randonneur and I’m always grateful of being able to talk to him and learn from what he has to share.
Even maintaining that conversation, it felt like we were going on a fast pace. A couple of times I looked over my shoulder, but without paying much attention, just checking someone was behind us.
Until Ferreiro shouted… “Keep on like this guys, if we keep picking up people at this pace, soon we will have half the PBP riders on our back”. Manolo and I looked back and… wow… we had a looooong line of randonneurs behind us!.
With the GoPro out of battery, I tried to take a few pictures with my phone, but I’m not used to do that, so the pics (see above) are not really that good.
It was really impressive to look back. We were riding in peloton-style, everybody in line, riding two abreast. And we were going fast, so it was even more impressive. And I was pulling all this with Manolo, which was mind-blowing.
After a while the roads flattened a bit and we increased our speed. We started to pass other riders, some of them hopping on the train. Our peloton started to grow bigger, with Manolo and me being the locomotives.
At one point I looked at Manolo and told him - “You know, you should have warned me that the third day in PBP is the race day!” - we both laughed.
During this stretch, we were riding on the same road we rode the first night, pulled by our friends from the USA. Riding now on those same roads by day, it was like riding a on completely different road. We recognized a few places though, like the café in Gorron where we had that coffee stop, or the smaller villages that were all lighted up at night with those led stripes attached to old bikes and metal structures/sculptures.
We had been riding like that for 2 hours and a half or so, without stops, when I got to the point where I couldn’t hold it anymore, I needed to pee. And that is the not-so-nice moment when you are riding in a big group like ours, going strong… and you have to stop for something like that.
“If you stop now, you won’t be able to catch them, they will be too fast for you” - I thought to myself. But so be it, if I’d have to ride alone up to the next control in Villaines La-Juhel, it won’t be a problem.
I told Manolo about my pee stop and told him not to worry, I’d catch them a bit later. Then I ensured there were no traffic and I moved to the left side of the road, stopping at the entrance of a dirt path there.
The peloton swooshed past me and I did what I had to do.
Quickly I got back on the bike. A few solo riders passed by me during that pit stop, but I overpassed them all a few minutes later. I have to admit that even if I was having lots of fun riding in the peloton, riding solo for a while felt wonderful too.
15 minutes later I caught the peloton again. Still riding in perfect formation, two abreast, and fast. First I got closer to the last two riders and I did stay there for a few minutes and then I decided to give it a try and move to the head of the group.
I started passing them, saying “hi”, “bonjour”, “I’m back!”… what a pity the GoPro was out of battery, passing this big group would have been a very nice video.
Soon I was back at the head and I put myself back at my place by Manolo.
I already had beaten my longest distance (600) the previous day, but at that moment on wednesday morning I was about to break another little record, passing the 1000km mark.
I was talking about this little record with the guys. All of them had done a 1000km ride before (even Dani, who rode a BRM 1000 earlier this year) and Manolo came up with the idea of doing kind of a celebration about it. We were looking at my garmin device and when it showed the 1000km value, I told so and they cheered me up.
The next 24 km to Villaines La-Juhel passed fast, still riding in that perfect formation, and we arrived in the village around 11:15.
And there we found the big party.
I’ve read countless stories from the previous editions of PBP, about Villaines being the village with the biggest party of all of them. With lots of people at all times on the street, specially on the come back from Brest, with music on the streets… This is that control where there are volunteer kids that help tired randonneurs with their food trays and moving around.
We found all that, sure, but just before entering the village, we were able to hear the speaker. Yeah, there was a speaker there that was looking at the riders arriving in the village and trying to make comments about them.
Mostly he was trying to identify the country from where the riders were and then he was announcing “here come the italians!”, “and now… some people from ireland!”, etc.
And someone came up with an idea. We were spanish, famous for being loud and noisy, so let’s make some noise. And what could be better than shouting the name of our friend Manolo! And so we did.
“MANOOOLOOOO! MANOOOOLOOOO! MANOOOOOOOLOOOOOOO!”
The crowd looked on our direction and raised their voices, cheering and clapping. I remember the speaker said something, but we were shouting so loud and the crowd was so noisy, that I didn’t register it ;-P
When we stopped our bikes, we were laughing like little kids. The peloton got dissolved and a few of the riders there came by to say hi and thanks for pulling them all the way from Fougères.
While I was talking to a few people there, surprise! I saw another randonneur arriving, in a very standing position… it was Stuart Blofeld, that guy riding a stand-up bike that we met on our way to Carhaix on Monday evening!
I got closer to say hi and ask how was he doing so far (I’d say quite good). At first he didn’t recognized me (what was I expecting? how many unknown riders may have approached him the last few days because of his EliptiGO bike?) but then he remembered our little ride together a couple days ago.
After a bit of chatting there, I realized all my friends had left to get their booklets stamped, so I said goodbye to Stuart and off I went to get mine too.
Then we went to the bigger restaurant to have an early lunch. At the entrance of the area where the restaurant was, a benèvole approached us, with a group of kids. Each kid was assigned to one of us, with instructions to help us carrying stuff around and with the selection of food available.
We walked together to the restaurant. The kids looked excited to help and we tried to talk a bit with them. Sadly, only one of them was eager to try a bit of english (none knew any spanish). Anyway, we found our way to communicate.
There was plenty of options for food, personally I picked up a full meal and my first Paris-Brest pastry for dessert.
Then the kids brought us to the lunch hall, which was a gymnasium where they had set long tables. The gymnasium was decorated with lots of stuff related to PBP, from maps with the different PBP routes over the years to a world map with marks in countries from where PBP riders came from. There were also lots of old bikes of all types around.
Once we got to our places at one of the big tables, the kids left us there and went back to get assigned to some other randonneur or randonneuse. Before they left, I opened the bag with the stickers and gave the kids lots of them.
I enjoyed the meal a lot. Salad, pasta and chicken, then dessert. But it wasn’t about the food. It was about being there at the moment, with those crazy guys whom I can call friends now, sharing sensations, feelings… it felt so good.
And then, another surprise! We saw David coming into the gymnasium, along the kid assigned to him, who was carrying another tray full of food. We waved at him and he joined us for lunch.
He looked awful. Like totally destroyed. He sat and told us how things went for him since we parted ways the night before and how bad and tired he was at that moment. He was definetely having one of those low moments, and it looked pretty bad. So we started making jokes, trying to cheer him up a bit, telling him that now that he is back with the Galicians, there was nothing to worry about.
After lunch we refilled our bottles and went to our bikes. We said goodbye to the kids and the benèvoles there and resumed our way. We had been in Villaines for 1 hour and 15 minutes, so it was past noon when we left the village.
It was definetely the hottest day since we started. It was hot, the sky was cloudless and the sun was cooking us for good, slowly. For me, the worse of it was that my feet started to hurt. This happened to me before, in a couple of Brevets when I had to ride for hours under temperatures over 30-35 ºC. In such situations my feet start to swell a bit, causing some disconfort first, pain if I keep like that for long.
And that seemed what was happening that day. My right foot was ok, but the left one… it was annoying at best.
Anyway, we left Villaines on our own, the Galicians, Manuel and David. Being race day we quickly went into the same formation as in the morning. Two abreast, Manolo and me on the lead, raising the pace slowly.
And, as it happened that morning, one hour later we were pulling a bigger group, which soon became a peloton again.
It was as if nothing had changed (later, I found out that a lot of the riders in this new group had been, in fact, riding with us that morning too!) Manolo and me were on the front, chatting and pulling the group with nobody taking a turn leading (which, honestly, was perfectly fine with me).
My feet started to hurt a bit more, and a bit more often. On the left foot sometimes it felt like if needles were piercing through my sole. A couple of times I considered letting the big group go and stop for a moment to remove the shoes and let my feet breathe a bit.
We passed several areas with trees and tempting grass patches under their shade… the grass look soooo fresh… I started to imagine my bare feet on the fresh grass…
But I didn’t want to let go of them, we were going fast and the km were passing in a breeze. So I decided to give something a try. On the longer hill descents I unclipped my left foot and did some stretching, moving the foot doing circles. It worked. Those small moments seemed to refresh the foot, keeping the pain away for some time.
The roads in this stretch felt a bit more gentle, easier. With longer flat parts (well, not really flat, but not a rollercoaster neither). This helped a lot to keep both our pace and the big group together.
The downside to it is that the chatting was cut to a minimum. And I have to admit that at the time I missed the chatting, the getting to know new people and friends.
Then, a while after passing again through Alençon we realized Ferreiro, David and Felipe were missing. We were arriving near a small village called Vidai and we noticed that there was someone offering water and drinks to the randonneurs in front of her house, so we decided to stop there for a moment, in the shade, and wait a bit for them to catch up.
The image there was lovely. A woman and her toddler were there, offering water from one of those 8/10 litres bottles/tanks. The bottle had one of those plastic taps/faucets and the toddler was refilling the bottles herself. I won’t forget this one anytime soon.
A few minutes later our friends appeared. Turned out they found someone they knew on the road and they stopped for a moment to say hi and take some pictures.
With that stop, the big peloton was gone, broken and split into groups of different sizes. A few randonneurs stopped with us and they decided to keep riding with us too when we resumed riding.
We still had around 20 km to get to the next control, in Mortagne au Perche (the one that was a food stop only on our way to Brest, where we discovered the problems with Ferreiro’s rear wheel on the first night). We rode them a bit more scattered, not in formation anymore, which felt a bit slower but was much better for the chatting part.
I had the opportunity to talk a bit with a french guy from Paris, very nice guy, who wanted to thank us for all the work we had done since this morning in Fougères. He had been riding with us for most of the day and he was glad he found such a well-behaved group of cyclists.
He was “bigger” than me, so going up the hills he suffered a bit more and some times he did stay a bit behind, but on the descents he was way faster. There was this descent, where I was crouching “all aero” and suddendly I realized he was by my side, with a more relaxed position. He looked at me with a (pretending to be) serious face and simply said “I’m FAT!” and he burst out laughing as he was passing me with little effort.
Soon after that, we were arriving in the village of Mortagne au Perche, with Manolo showing us the way.
I had a vague memory of that first night, leaving this control… I’d swear we left the control going down on what looked like a steep descent. If that was true, we would have to climb it on our way to the control today.
It was indeed a bit steep, but not so steep, and short anyway.
It was 16:10 when we finally arrived in the control. We were cooked in our own sweat. It was really, really hot. We looked for some place with a bit of shade to park our bikes and refresh ourselves a bit.
Dani parked his bike and went straight to the water taps, crouched and opened the faucet over his head.
I refilled one bottle with fresh water and drank half of it in one go. When we finally were all together again, we headed for the building to get our stamps and eat something.
Inside the building it was much better, not so hot at least. As soon as I entered the building, I removed my shoes. Feeling that cold floor on my cooked feet was definetely soothing.
We got our stamps and then went to the cafeteria/restaurant. I didn’t feel like having lunch (again), but having something cold/fresh did sound like a good idea, so I took my time to go through the available food, trying to find something that may fit.
One thing I do when riding Brevets, specially longer ones, regarding food is try to keep eating what I usually eat in my daily diet. That would mean lots of fruit, veggies and yogourt. Veggies, though, are usually hard to find (or ordering them takes longer than other stuff).
Here in Mortagne, I was lucky I could get some nice cold pasta salad, fruit and yogourt (and that delicious cheese cake I’ve been eaten in most of the controls so far!)
While eating, several other randonneurs we knew from previous Brevets passed by or came to say hi. It was nice to see everybody was doing fine so far, being so close to the finish now.
One of those randonneurs was Alfredo, from Alicante, an old friend of Manolo who had shared lots of adventures with him in the past. He looked a bit tired and Manolo asked him if he would like to seat for a while with us. He did and he shared his PBP story so far. When he finished, we asked him to join us for the last stretch. It is always nicer if you can ride with good company.
We had a bit over 120km to do before the finish, back in Rambouillet (the come back would be on a different road, passing by the last control in Dreux).
Considering what we had done so far, that felt like a very short distance, to be honest. But we still had to ride it. We were optimists though, the day has been fine so far, everybody was doing fine and we were riding in a good pace (did someone say race day?).
I don’t remember what happened exactly in this stop, but we spent there 1 hour and 20 minutes (longest stop during PBP). What I can tell you is that, at the time, it didn’t feel like we were stopped so long.
It was time to leave Mortagne and so we did, all together, still with David and now with the company of Alfredo.
Dreux was near 80 km away. We had left Bretagne behind long ago already (a few km after Fougères) and not only the weather was different (hotter), the terrain and the roads were different too. More flat roads, less hills, long straight lines where we could roll faster (if we weren’t a bit tired already).
On our way to the next, and last, control the mechanical trouble came back.
As it had been the usual since we left the Hotel this morning, we left Mortagne on our own and soon we built a small group, that was getting bigger with time. Again, I tried to keep myself up front as much as possible.
And, after 30km or so, Manolo looked back and told me some of our friends were missing. I remember Dani was there with us, but no trace of the others. We slowed down a bit but 10km later there was still no trace of them, so we decided to stop for a moment at the side of the road.
There were a few riders that had been on our wheels for quite a while then, that looked a bit dissapointed we were stopping. They exchanged a few WTF glances and then I told them a few of our friends were missing for too long and that we were going to wait a bit for them. “Sure, ok! thanks for the ride so far anyway!” - one of them replied before they resumed riding.
Alfredo was the first arriving, alone. He told us Ferreiro had another flat tire on the rear wheel. Damn, at that moment Dani and I realized that he had spent all his spare tubes already (after that fiasco tube replacement on the second day, before arriving in Fougères for the first time). We told him to buy some spares in a control, but he didn’t. Luckily, David and Felipe were with him, so he was able to get a new inner tube.
After a while they arrived and we resumed riding together once more. There was a bit more talking about the current status of that rear wheel, ideas and suggestions about what to look for in Dreux, trying to minimize the trouble for those last few km.
A few minutes later, I almost had a crash.
We were riding all together, I wasn’t up front as usual and I had David riding in front of me, a bit to my right, when he suddendly did a turn to his left. I quickly dodged him, going also to my left, towards the other lane on the road… just when another rider was passing me exactly by there.
Luckily this rider’s reacted fast too, otherwise it wouldn’t be fun for any of us (we had several more riders coming behind us).
I apologized to this unknown rider and he replied “don’t worry, not your fault!” and kept on riding.
A few minutes later, I came upon him once more. He was riding up front and I pushed it a bit, leaving my friends a bit behind and matching his pace. “Hey!” - I said - “Sorry about what happened before, really”. “No worries” - he replied - “It wasn’t your fault, the other guy turned carelessly, there was nothing you could do”. We introduced ourselves and Jochen turned out to be a very nice guy.
It was sooo nice to ride with him for a while, sharing our different stories about what PBP has been so far for us. He had this crazy story about sleeping the previous night under a tree, in a bivvy bag, being woken up by some noises near his bike bags… just to find a little fox there, looking back at him! (you can see the fox in his pictures on strava).
After a while our paces were different and we split ways, but riding by him and sharing stories brought me back good memories of conversations shared with other strangers the last couple of days. For me, the best part of PBP.
Riders came and went, we passed some and some others passed us. We came upon another spanish randonneur, Rafa from the Vasque Country, another friend of Manolo who decided to join our little group. He blended in perfectly, specially with Dani. Them two making cheap jokes non-stop for a while, everybody around (that did speak/understand spanish) laughing out loud.
Once more, Ferreiro was missing. Someone (don’t remember who) pointed to another flat tire, but it seemed Felipe did stay with him. We discussed what to do for a while, then decided to keep on and wait for them in Dreux.
It was early in the evening, and it felt like it was even hotter than noon. The pain on my left foot was back, the needles piercing through it again. I looked back at my friends’ faces and I could see there how tired everybody started to feel.
This was the moment of the whole ride when I saw more and more people having trouble with keeping their heads up. The feared Shermer’s Neck. I’d heard about it, I’d read about it, but I had never seen someone actually suffering it.
I saw 3-4 cases before arriving in Dreux. There was one guy (from Chile, IIRC) who had what looked like a mild case (or the start of it). He couldn’t keep his head up 100%, but let’s say 70% and he could keep his eyes up front by tilting a bit his head to his right. Then there were the others, who couldn’t put their heads up and were looking straight to their front wheels.
Those looked pretty dangerous and scary.
Of course, I did not have the whole story about them. Maybe they were on a tight schedule to finish PBP in time, maybe they were used to ride in such conditions. Whatever their reasons were, back then I thought they were quite irresponsible, riding like that. Why not simply stop for a while, get some rest and try to recover? Riding like that, moving sideways recklessly and not being able to keep your heads up front… it wasn’t only a danger for themselves, they were a danger to every other rider on the road.
The landscape around us was quite different here. Apart from being less hilly, the land around the roads were farm land. Big flat areas prepared for agriculture and planting/growing stuff. There were less green around us, probably because farmers were preparing the soil to plant new stuff on it.
I noticed also another change, drivers. Back in Bretagne everybody was gentle and patient, sometimes even friendly (waving from inside the cars, shouting “Allez! Allez!” from behind open windows…). But here most drivers were agressive, passing you speeding up a lot and some times even honking. One driver even shout some things that sound really angry and ugly at us.
Later I found out that in France it is not allowed to ride 2 abreast (in Spain, for example, it is legal to do so). But that only seemed to be a problem with drivers around this area.
At 20:45 we finally arrived in Dreux.
Night was coming again, but it was still hot, way too hot. There was lots of humidity too, there was a swamp-like atmosfere in the air. And the mosquitoes… there was a horde of mosquitoes feasting on us, poor randonneurs.
We parked our bikes and went inside, in hopes of getting rid of the mosquitoes and to get our stamps and something to eat.
Inside it was almost unbearable, way too hot. The building was like a huge greenhouse, probably gathering heat from the sun all day long, and soon we were completely cooked. At one point we asked one of the benèvoles if we could bring our trays outside, she said it was ok if we bring them back in when finished.
Outside it was much better regarding the heat… but then there were the mosquitoes, waiting for us. I guess you can’t have it all!
We couldn’t find a table where we could sit all together, so we split. I sat at a table with David and a couple from the USA that were riding PBP for the 4th or 5th time. Time to share more experiences and stories! I also took some time to check on David, how was he doing so far, specially after having quite a bad morning that day.
We finished our food, but Ferreiro and Felipe hadn’t arrived yet. We started to worry a bit, lots of “what if…” in the air. One thing was clear, we were going to wait for them so we could do the last stretch together.
A while later they finally arrived. Confirmed another flat tire and some more trouble changing that tube. Also, that was the last inner tube from Felipe too.
Finally, 1 hour and 15 minutes after we arrived in the control, we were ready to leave. We were picking up our bikes when Ferreiro said he was leaving already - “You are faster and will catch me soon”. He left and then we realized David was missing. He told us he was going to the toilet and asked if we could wait for him.
We waited a bit… but no trace of him. He hadn’t park his bike with ours… so no way to check if his bike was still around in the middle of all those bikes, in the dark.
Near 10 minutes later, we tried calling him on the phone, but no luck, so we decided to go.
40-something km to go, to arrive in Rambouillet and to finish PBP.
40-something km to ride in the dark… but this time I wanted no trouble, no tunnel vision, no anxiety. So I came up with an idea before leaving the control. I replaced my cycling glasses with my normal, everyday, glasses.
I had brought them with me just in case something bad happened to my cycling ones (spares!), but while I was there waiting for David, I started to think about replacing the glasses. The normal ones are bigger, wider, so the area covered by the prescription glasses is bigger. Also, the cycling glasses have this special treatment that adapts to light (photochromatic?) which make them very good for changing conditions, but still means having some darker cover on them. The normal glasses don’t have that.
The drawback of wearing normal glasses is that they are a bit more loose, but I hoped that won’t be a problem.
Note
Spoiler alert: it worked wonderfully. Lesson learnt, my cycling glasses are ok for riding at night… for a while or if it is not in complete darkness. Otherwise, they are not so good.
We left Dreux and its city lights behind and soon we were back into the darkness, on a long and fast descent. We were riding with a lot more riders now, as there were lot of people queued for exit in the control.
Dani was a bit ahead, fearless in the dark, with Manolo a bit behind, then me and Alfredo and Felipe a bit behind us. Then I heard Alfredo cursing.
“What happened, are you all right?” - I asked him - “Gearing cable snapped, dammit” - he replied. “Fsck” - I thought - “Ok, let’s see what we can do, I’ve a spare cable here” - I told him. He said thanks, but no thanks, and he asked me not to worry - “Just keep on riding, forget about me and do not tell Manolo about it, I’ll make it on my own, you already have had enough delays due to mechanical trouble”.
Of course I wasn’t ok with it, if he was not going to listen to me… I pushed it a bit and got side-by-side with the others, telling them what happened. We slowed down a bit and quickly discussed what to do. We all agreed on keep on going. The terrain should not be very hilly from now on and Alfredo swear he could make it like this (he even refused to stop for a moment and try to get the chain in a higher gear).
We rode together, trying to keep a steady pace and with Manolo giving us warnings when we were pushing it a bit too much (we didn’t want to burn Alfredo to the ground).
We still hadn’t catch Ferreiro (who left the control almost 10 minutes earlier than us) and every time we saw red lights on the horizon, we were gambling… would it be him? Every time we hunted those riders, trying to finally catch him, but he wasn’t in any of those groups and pairs.
At one point, in a longer flat stretch, I put some distance with the group, riding alone for a while, in the dark. I passed by a big area of farm land where they were working. There were a couple of big tractors with huge front lamps that were casting long and wide beams of light on the land. It felt a bit surreal, like being in a sci-fi movie, in some other planet with a spaceship exploring some unknown land.
Soon I was back with the guys, and we rode together passing a few more hills and some woods, we were almost there. Going down the other side of the woods we saw a few riders ahead, stopped. Ferreiro was there, with David. We didn’t stop and they resumed their ride with us.
The gearing cable in Ferreiro’s bike was damaged. It didn’t snap yet, but he wasn’t changing gears to prevent that. So much for mechanical problems…
A few minutes later, we were entering the area near the Chatèu de Rambouillet. Cobblestones, then the big metal fence, then the dirt path… We crossed the arch where our RFIDs would be read and our final arrival time marked in the ACP database.
My official finish time was 78:09:46, arriving back in Rambouillet at 23:59:32 on Wednesday, 23rd August 2023. According to my Garmin device (and Strava) 51 hours 7 minutes of moving time, 78 hours 14 minutes taking stops in account with an average (moving) speed of 24 km/h.
Arriving at this time, at midnight, things were a bit quiet. There was people of course, lots of noise and movement, but a bit quieter than arriving by day.
We parked our bikes, everybody smiling and happy. I went to Dani and gave him a big hug. Congratulations my friend, you deserved this. Then I went one by one giving hugs and clasping hands with everybody, giving contratulations.
We had done it, I had done it. One could said now the dream finally came true, but for me the dream came true when I left this place on sunday. From that moment on I was living the dream, so sure I was going to finish it.
Time then to get our final stamp, our medal, and lots of congratulations by the benèvoles there.
We were in full-spanish-party mode. I guess it was even more special for Dani, David and me, as this was our first PBP.
Meanwhile more randonneurs and randonneuse were arriving and getting their stamps and medals. Everybody looking tired, a bit trashed, but at the same time radiant and happy.
After stamps, medals and photos, we went to the tent where the organization had prepared a restaurant area, to get our finishers meal. While on the queue to get our food, I came upon Jochen again. He looked good and I was glad to see he finished too.
On my way to our table, with the tray full of food on my hands, I passed by other tables where I could see more faces I’ve met during the day. One of those faces was that big guy from Paris I rode with for a while before Mortagne au Perche. He waved at me, gesturing me to come over. I left my try on our table and went there.
He was sitting there with some friends, dinner half done, drinking some local beer. He offered me a glass of it and we cheered together. He thanked me (our galician group really) again. He was telling his friends there that this morning was the only moment in this whole PBP when we rode in a well-organized group. I did stay with them for a moment, sharing stories and plans, and then I went back to my table, bringing with me one of those big bottles of local beer to share with the others.
Dinner was nice, beer was awesome, company was wonderful.
We did stay for some more time at the “restaurant”, hanging out, chatting. Felipe exchanged his Randonneurs Galicia Jersey with a randonneur from Japan, and Ferreiro did the same with a randonneur from California.
It was getting late and, even if we were having lots of fun, we were tired and we still had to ride our bikes back to the van, then pack everything back (in the dark) and get to our hotel for the night.
After saying goodbye to everybody there, Alfredo, Rafa and David included, we went to the bike parking and hopped on our bikes once more. We rode our bikes back to the van and then packed everything up.
We had finished PBP, but fun wasn’t over yet. We drove 30 minutes to the hotel for that night. A hotel Manolo found on booking.com and looked quite nice. It was nice indeed, but it was kind of a small resort-like hotel, located in the middle of some woods somewhere. Getting there on our huge van was fun, having to drive on some small paths, surrounded by huge trees. I remember making jokes with Manolo, wondering exactly what kind of hotel this was, which surprises did he prepared for us there…
Luckily we found it and the check-in was quite fast. In a few minutes we were in our rooms (I was sharing mine with Dani again). I had a much-needed soothing shower and then went to bed, falling asleep almost instantly, so happy I can’t find the words to describe it.