The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2393 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Friday morning was a mad rush, showers, drying hair sorting suitable clothes–it was quite warm and a long car drive even with air conditioning with one youngster and four other assorted children was going to prove a challenge.

Just getting them to eat breakfast was bad enough. Meems wasn’t certain she wanted to go, but leaving Lizzie for Stella and Jacquie to cope with was bad enough. The fact was she was going because we were, but she was still frightened she might get wost. at nearly eight years old, that shouldn’t have been an issue, she was old enough to stay close to the rest of us, even if it meant holding hands with someone. I bribed Danni to offer to ‘guard’ her, it meant a new cycling helmet but she will hopefully get her wear out of it.

Finally, breakfast was over–I nearly forgot to eat something until Simon remarked upon it. I quickly scoffed down some banana on toast and as I finished David arrived and did us the most amazing packed lunch. We have one of those cooler bags that plugs into the cigarette lighter, so you don’t need ice packs, it keeps itself cool, and it needed to. We had boxes of prawn and tuna salad, hard boiled eggs, grated cheese, fresh wholemeal bread plus cold cooked new potatoes. Chocolate bars provided the dessert and for once I wasn’t going to complain. We had bottles of fruit pressé, cola and lemonade and even grape juice. The whole bag was packed by David who provided a table cloth and cutlery and disposable paper plates, with such precision and so quickly, he must have done it many times. It was like watching a watchmaker in action, I know I’d only have got half of it in there. I thanked him and pecked him on the cheek, he smiled, told me I deserved a holiday and that I was still the best boss he’d ever had.

I left before he offered to work for nothing.

It was going to be a long drive, the kids had their iPads with kindle or ebook applications, so they had plenty to amuse themselves. There was also a DVD player in the back so they could watch films or listen to an audiobook. Perhaps they had too much to play with because we hadn’t been gone and hour when World War Three seemed to erupt on the back seat with Trish and Livvie squabbling with Danni and Mima. Cate had drifted off to sleep in her reclining car seat and the noise of the squabble woke her. She began to cry and Simon pulled off the road and read the riot act. That had all of them crying and me wanting to go home or proceed on my own. So far it was proving a disaster.

Things calmed down and we set off again, but there was now a tension in the air and it felt as if it needed just a spark to set off the conflagration. Then Cate was sick and we had to pull over again for me to clean her up and change her. It wasn’t her fault but she got upset and the others complained about the smell and so on. We then drove with windows open and they complained about the draught or the noise. Then we got stuck in bumper to bumper traffic, everyone seemed to be heading north, possibly for the same reason we were judging by the numbers with bikes on roof or other racks. I have never seen so many camper vans of all shapes, sizes and vintage, it appeared the whole world was away for the weekend or returning home.

We eventually stopped at a service area on the M1 and enjoyed our picnic despite the noise from the nearby main road. The food seemed to calm things down and once back on the road, some soporific music sent the kids off to sleep–Simon almost joined them–so we stopped and I took over the driving.

It reminded me of the Cayenne, yes the one I destroyed avoiding Bambi, only it was bigger, higher and wider–so it wasn’t the same really. I drove okay, I just felt like I was driving one of the team buses, huge things, though in reality it was nowhere near as big–I just don’t do big vehicles–usually.

With the sat nav I managed to get us to our destination much to Simon’s amazement–he’d zonked in the front passenger seat, snoring much of the way though the road and engine noise drowned out much of it. We booked in and unpacked. I left the remains of the picnic in the cooler bag–we probably had enough for the next day if we could get some new bread, such as a French stick or two.

The evening was spent walking round the area to find a fish and chip shop where we glutted ourselves on cod in batter with chips. Cate had a chip from everyone’s portion and half of my fish. She then sat down and went off to sleep, Simon had to carry her home, terrified she would be sick on him–sometimes he’s such a wimp.

The food and exercise together with the sun and fresh air seemed to have us all asleep quite early, which was probably a good thing as we’d need to be up early next day to get to good positions to watch the end of the race. I went to bed dreaming I was up against Cavendish for the sprint and I beat him, whereupon he berated me for not sticking to the plan–he was supposed to win the maillot jeune for the first stage and I could have the next one with the big hill climbs.

I burst into tears and woke Simon up at three o’clock in the morning crying in my sleep. Whatever that dream implied I had no idea nor wanted one.