So we’ve arrived now at St Omer after a long 88 mile hilly day. Of course, it being Friday 13th, we were a little anxious and looking outside the window this morning we had reason to be. It was pouring with rain. Within about ten miles of leaving the city, our group had two problems with chains and one puncture.  Robin found it easy to blow up the new tyre thinking it was the two policemen who threatened him with a massive fine last night. And other problems encountered during the day included a broken spoke and a daughter with a broken arm ( so not linked to the cycling but to the group).

It was a long day but the catering crew did us proud and served up smoked salmon canapés and roast chicken for lunch from the roadside van -impressive.

The rain cleared and we found ourselves cycling through some lovely rolling countryside – and the number of British cemeteries we passed were very moving.

It was great to arrive back close to the coast and Britain is now in sight. For many of us we are getting to the end of a very long journey but it has been really quite spectacular to look back at everyone’s achievements over the past two/three weeks. More of that tomorrow.

This evening we’ve enjoyed a final celebration of the ride and tomorrow we head to Dunqueque to catch the ferry home and from there to Canterbury with a Harley escort, led by Andrew Nason, hopefully sailing through the Christchurch Gate around 4.15pm. All welcome.  On Sunday we do the very last leg, heading to the Olympic Stadium via the HQ of the Kent Air Ambulance in Marden.

On a final note, Mark Nugent (AKA the Dark Lord) showed us all up today by cycling from St Quentin to Calais – getting there before most of us got to St Omer to ensure he gets to his daughter’s award at her speech day tomorrow. Well done Mark. And farewell to Alistair who is currently en route to Lille ready to be in London tomorrow for his briefing as a voluntary GP for the Olympics. We are very proud of you.

40 miles tomorrow….time for bed.

Arresting indeed is the view of the majestic basilique that sits atop St Quentin as you arrive in the city, However we had a closer encounter with  matters “arresting” as we cycled into the city. It was encouraging to see welcome flags to the city declaring that St Quentin is the “ville la plus sportif” in France – so we felt quite lifted as we cycled in. But not for long. Within five minutes, we had two policemen on motorbikes pulling up next to us and signalling Robin Cooper into the side. “Yippee” we thought, “how great, a police escort”. How wrong we were. Robin was sandwiched between the two motorbikes and accused of         breaking the code of the road when cycling into the city…they berated him and then it went from bad to worse when they asked for 90 euros. Robin wisely played dumb and refused to pay and they eventually went on their way. Mercifully he didn’t play the “Do you know who I am?” card, as the chances were that they’d never heard of Medway.

Your editor was sorely tempted to yell out ” Two words for you – Bradley Wiggins” as I was slightly anxious that we’d all end up in the slammer and I was anxious to get to a warm bath.

Ville la plus sportif  - I think not…

Didn’t have time to type much yesterday and sadly it seems to have merged into a long day’s haze of wheels turning, hills and wind. Each day it’s a bit like childbirth – long and painful and you don’t fancy it again –  then after a bowl of pasta and a decent glass of merlot everything seems a bit better and you’re ready to get going again.

The day started with a massive hill climb out of Epernay, 850ft up through the beautiful champagne vineyards with milestones marking the ownership of brands such as Mercier.

Within half an hour the heavens opened and it tipped it down – cycling can be a challenge, but it is doubly so in the pouring rain. You drip from the head downward and keeping morale up when you’re soaked to the skin and can’t see where you’re heading makes morale tricky to keep up. But kept going we did. The catering crew did a superb job and lunch was held in a bus shelter!

We also held a number of stops at different cafes -selling a range of interesting artefacts.  Mercifully the skies cleared in the afternoon and after a few wrong turns we sailed into St Quentin for our warm welcome after 5000ft climbing.

We were ready for an evening out and some of the group entertained the locals with our our rendition of one of Tom Jones’ more famous numbers at the local karaoke evening. But it was’t to be late as there were still 88 miles to tackle today.

David Millar has won his stage of Le Tour and we have the beers in at the bar. 8 of us here. The others unaccountably delayed by punctures, hills, floods, crocodiles and all the usual excuses. But hear that bikes have been mended and bodies patched up and all are back on the road. Tonight we are all eating together to celebrate the evening of Bastille Day. To Arms Citizens.

60 miles done. Straight French roads going up and down. Wind in our faces. One bike has collapsed a few miles back it seems. Someone else has totally exhausted themselves and has nothing left. So on we go to St Omer.

40 miles done and drinking coffee in a bar tabac. The way this works is that we divide into three groups and then go at our own pace looking after each other. Our group has been bowling along with more up and down looking for a coffee stop. At last. And Jerome has sniffed out a boulangerie for some pastries.

6.30am and it’s grey and wet outside. But this is the last full day in France. 88 miles of rolling roads.