Day 00 - Gatwick (Horsley) to Brighton, then Newhaven, then Deippe, France

Everyone knows about the natural defensive shield of the Western coastline.  Shear, white cliffs create an intimidating wall of protection that is virtually unscalable.* The same is true for an inland ridge of the escarpment, ironically named Ditchling, as if it were an adorable ditch.  It is neither.  It is steep and unrelenting, and mean-spirited.  It was also in our way.

Five of us set out to meet with most of the group in Brighton, and I am proud to report that we all stayed on our bikes and rode through the worst of it.  The "worst of it" must include some comically narrow country roads that are clearly incapable of safely accommodating two-way traffic, perhaps not even one. 

We are happy to find our meeting spot in an idyllic garden in Brighton.  We arrive a little early, though still surprised to find only one team member (Eric, madly assembling his bike). However, numbers build over the next hour until we reach our near-full complement of 17 rides (plus 2 more coming tomorrow), 2 trip leaders, and many well-wishers and send-off friends.

The team breaks out as follows;

- the largest group (seven riders) is comprised of Alison Anderson (the event organizer) and her Husband John, and various friends and couples who don't have Parkinson's but have supported Alison for years; each person takes special care to introduce themselves and show immediate warmth  This will be good.

- The next largest group is the mighty Norweigens (four riders).  I have met these people through countless online sessions and knew from the outset that they are talented riders and a pleasure to know.

- After that, singles and couples fill the remaining eight spots, six of which have Parkinson's.  (In truth, a  few of this group could count as an "Anderson Insider," but I enlisted here just for company.  If any of this group arrived as a stranger, they were quickly brought into the fold.

We are a team.

Our ferry to France was pleasant and uneventful, except for the chance to see some hilarious Customs and Immigration practices in play, including 1) an extra 40-minute wait because one rider had to drop out, leaving us one body short on the manifest.  This obviously fries government computers faster than Capt Kirk using logic syllogisms on hapless robots.  And 2) to comply with apparent search metrics, we were obligated to give up 3 people from the 19 of us going through.  They could be any three; rather than an officer selecting them randomly, volunteers were sought. This may be where they need to build a wall.

This is a great group, and bonds form quickly and easily.

Joy awaits.

* I don't know if any preceding comments have truth or validity.