An inauspicious start

The space away from work to get stuck into final preparations and to make sure everything is done in time for 10am on the 14th had arrived. It was all going so well as we left London with a van full of all our worldly belongings and wishes of good luck from Diageo and Freshminds ringing in our ears...

12 hours later I had blown £500 by managing to write off one side of the hire van by hitting a wall in the narrow Devon lanes, had got a call from the bike shop saying the tandem needed an extra £150 worth of work and had also come down with a temperature of 102. Tits. As I lie here sweating out the fever, Hol is being a champion running around to see relatives, sorting out bank accounts and trying to get coverage for the trip in travel magazines. Instead, I just want to get back to being fit and healthy. At the moment I feel like I need to wrap myself in cotton wool just to make it to the start line, but it's ridiculous. The trip is going to take 18 months and go through some of the filthiest and most dangerous places on the planet. I've managed to get sick somewhere between Evans cycles in Wandsworth and Fleet services on the M3. Not a great start.