An early 0715 start is no problem at all when you’ve been awake since 0120 because your silly body clock thinks it should still be on Turkish Time which is 6 hours ahead.

After a breakfast of mostly cake and jelly, it was time to finally get on those bikes and ride.

The route today is the longest in distance at 80 km, snaking around the coast eastwards from Guarujá to Juqueí, and had the promise of a mix of beach and road cycling along with some off road sections through villages and up a big hill, which being as its the first day and all, I was blocking out mention of the ‘H’ word and focusing on the beach word.

Google thinks you can’t cycle the beach, but instead of heading inland just after leaving Guarujá behind, the whole bay section is cyclable if you are prepared to take the odd detour around a headland and literally ford a river or two.

There were four sections of beach totalling about 20km all together, and the first two were a fantastic cycle.  The beach seemed to stretch forever and the hard packed sand made a perfect surface for our bikes and the surf was exhilarating.



Beaches 3 and 4 were not so great for me – the tide was much higher on these beaches meaning the nice hard packed sand had turned into a choice between wet with quicksand properties or loose and dry – neither of which are brilliant and caused yelps every now and again when you were caught unawares and had to pedal like mad to control your back tyre which was snaking about behind you with a life of its own.  

I managed to get caught out by a wave on beach 3 where the tide was sneakily all of a sudden sending a wave towards me with no means of escape.  The water covered the chain and gears as well as feet, legs and all down my back.  But I stayed on!

The bike was not quite the same after that, and my chain struggled to remain on its sprockets and I guess came off about 4 or 5 times on the rest of the journey, as well as the bike generally making a racket.  Sea water is definitely not recommended!

After a lunch of giant chicken pop tarts, it was the final 15km to push which involved the H word, and by now I was truly knackered and not relishing a hill at the end of a long cycling day.  We headed off road and into the villages and came to a standstill as the bridge across the Rio Uno (doesn’t quite have the same ring) was well and truly out of action with the centre section completely missing.  After a bit of discussion about who owned the ancient rowing boat nearby and could we row across, my enthusiasm was taking a dip.

At this point, I have to admit that if the solution had been to jump on the bus and forget the remaining 5km I would not have been overly disappointed. But no!  We could do a 10km detour to find another bridge and approach from the other side! Great!

I had a moment on the detour where my chain came off again but I couldn’t unclip on my left foot which was stuck at the top of the revolution meaning I would not be able to put both feet on the floor when I lost momentum. A real panicky moment for me, especially as my cycling buddy also fell off in an attempt to stop in haste so she could help me.  At what felt like the last moment I managed to unclip and stop myself from falling, but from then on I knew I was done. You kind of know when you have reached your limit and after an emotional wobble I was on autopilot willing the km to roll by quickly so I could stop.  The God of Knackered Cyclists must have been listening at that moment, because a little further on, with the nasty hill just ahead, the decision was taken to turn around and take the road the rest of the way. Although this then involved a 2km gradual hill, I have to admit that I was relieved to be off the sandy pothole ridden track that I was finding it difficult to see in the diminishing light.

The welcome sight of the hotel after 8 hours (not all cycling) and a total of 90km was very welcome indeed! If you sponsored me, I earned your money today 🙂

Highlights: Fantastic beach cycling, snake dodging, beers at the end

Lowlights: Beach cycling at high tide, me and the bike taking a dip, that bloody chain, emotional wobbles after a near-miss unclippy incident.