WORDS AND PICTURES CHRIS BATTENTI
Londoner Chris Battenti has lived in West Cork for 24 years – but it seems that “the luck of the Irish” has yet to rub off on him. Here’s his tale of woe from PBP 2019:
The long road
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GOING INTO PBP 2019 I was fitter, better trained and prepared than I’d ever been for any event. But sometimes things just go wrong. Kate Kelly, a formidable rider and fellow member of Audax Ireland, was my riding companion for the event. We travelled together, to save costs, from Bantry, West Cork, in my reliable and well-maintained 18 year old Skoda Fabia, bikes strapped to the back, catching the ferry from Rosslare to Cherbourg, then driving to Paris for the start. Troubles started before we even set off. On a final test ride I heard a disturbing creak from my front wheel dynamo – the thing that controls all my lighting system and charges my GPS and phone. The hub had completely disintegrated. No time for repairs or replacement – I had no choice but to go old-school with batterypowered lights. We arrived at the campsite late on
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Wednesday, found our pitches and put up our tents. The campsite was packed out, with everyone doing PBP. Every nationality was there and it was great catching up with old friends. I started the ride at 6pm on the Sunday, feeling confident. The French were so friendly – they set up impromptu coffee stops at almost every village. Just when you were at a low ebb at 3am, you’d come across a roadside stall handing out free coffee and cake. As an example of the hospitality on the route – I’d fallen asleep on a footpath in a small village and was gently woken by an elderly man telling me he had a spare bed I could use. I’m
told this is a typical act of French generosity. Then at 300k more disaster. My saddle broke. I made some makeshift repairs but it was like sitting on a hot razor blade with a permanent wedgie. The rest of the ride was the usual Audax affair, and I won’t bore you with the details, but basically it was non-stop hills, no proper sleep, freezing night temperatures, extreme fatigue coupled with almost falling asleep on the bike. At one point I had the idea that if I closed one eye at a time then I could get half a sleep – a very silly idea. A lot of the ride was a blur. It was tough, oh my god, so tough! PBP has the reputation of being
Chateau de Rambouillet
