Nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition..

Well...nearly two weeks since our epic journey to Barcelona and I've finally got around to putting my contribution onto the blog. Can I firstly say, in all sincerity what a terrific pleasure it was to have ridden with 9 great guys and overcome a task that after only a few days of howling gale force winds and constant soaking by rain, seemed to be a challenge beyond what many of us had ever expected. That's the serious bit over with...

Memories for me (in no particular order)... Nigel what can I say apart from a bloody hero.. Iron man Nige basically cycled the entire journey on his own. This was partly due to the low quality of his steed and partly the even lower quality of his jokes. Faced with a 900+ miles epic journey over mountains and in weather Ranulph Fiennes would have packed, Nigel chose to do it on a ladies bike, complete with ladies handle bars and ladies tyres. Early training should have highlighted his error in judgement, but even a fall on his way to Lidl one morning when his basket came loose and became inadvertently snagged in his tights did not deter him. I've never seen a man sweat so much; sorry you got caught for that round of beers mate, but you had to be at the front of the bunch sometime Nige. You're a hero in my books mate and rememember 'that is not my dougue...'

Neish, how many times can someone fall off a bike??? Shaun even fell off mine and he wasn't even riding it. He was a rider who despite his extraordinary individual gravitional force field became stronger and stronger throughout the ride and actually crossed the top of the Pyranees first. Well done and well done for having a shirt which covered more asphalt than your tyres. Another thank you along with several others who helped me during the last few days when feeling particularly rough, cheers..

Andrew. Despite a large amount of heckling from the ranks about his Garmin navigation and his map reading ability, actually made the whole trip possible and did a fantastic job of getting us to Barcelona. Undoubtedly a certain level of nervousness was however created in the peleton toward the end when he was spotted staring at his bike Garmin for more than a few seconds; usually an emergency Dal-stop was about to happen, spreading riders to the four winds in all kinds of rapid emergency manouvres in an effort to prevent a pile up of epic proportions. Andrew (ney, Ridgeley) remained undetered, instead regularly deploying his specially designed McLaren F1 carbon fibre brake set, oblivious to the sound of screeching tyre smoke, and profanity that would make John Lydon blush.

Neil. The first Scotsman i've ever seen with a sun-tan. Long suffering room mate, who put up with my constant whingeing about my throat infections and fever; although my sympathy was slightly reduced by a small admission later that he had also had a throat infection early on in the ride, but felt much better after passing it to me. A man of awesome staying power on a bike and in the bar.

Mike, ultimate respect; a man who managed to ride the whole 900 miles in completely the wrong gear and of such patriotic determination, not seen since the days of Churchill, rode the whole way on the British side of the road - sterling stuff, S.A.S. - bunch of poofters mate. Mike was Mr. Steady throughout the whole ride and was one of those who I think proved to himself what he could achieve physically even with an injured shoulder; he was also one who became stronger as the days went on and never gave up.

Miska, second only to Iron Man Nige, the Mighty Myska rode with an injured hamstring through many miles. His hill climbing becoming a strong part of his riding and his now famous politeness and affability even extended to advising his fellow climbers on the tougher climbs in Cholmondeley Warner style, that he was about to 'engage a higher gear'....'I hope you don't mind, and please don't be alarmed, but....' and off his hairy legs would carry him into the distance. Great composure, and I think Lance Armstong may be missing a trick here?

Mark, rode strongly throughout, looked good on the bike, funny, friendly, good company, i feel sick...

Eric - my main man. Helped me in my darkest hour (or so) up the Pyranees and was constantly up-beat during the whole journey. Bent his body parts in ways I had never seen before even on Dutch TV and if David Carradine had been able to do, he may well still have been with us today. On many occassions I thought we had lost Eric, but his was merely slipping into enforced unconciousness as a desperate attempt to avoid hearing another one of Nigel's jokes.

Will, stronger than a dozen of Neish's shirts after 11-days and a man who has no need to change down a gear at any time. Coupled with a real talent to ride a bike into a gale force head wind at 24mph for miles and would then turn around and wonder where everyone else had disappeared to....Ultimate respect mate, although there is something wrong with you.

Thanks for the experience chaps...and a big thank you to Karen, Isabella and Anna for the sterling support.