Premature embarkation

London transport, how I hate thee! This morning we made a valiant attempt at catching the morning ferry from Harwich (pronounced Harritch) to the Hook of Holland only to be thwarted by fine print. We'd been up all night, preparing our bicycles, packing our things and at 5am we set forth to Balham tube station with family members and luggage leading us in the support vehicle (great idea P2!) whilst we pedaled our way through the pre-dawn darkness.

We were making good time, despite my parents insisting that they both pray for us on our journey (bless them, tap tap tap) and an eccentric fellow cyclist at the tube station who was terribly keen on telling us all about his son who'd ranked 8th in a few stages in the Tour de France and how his estranged wife had tricked him into returning his sons (Ortlieb) panniers even though his son didn't really mind him having them. I'm guessing the extra weight would slow you down a bit on the uphill stages.

I was concerned for Mum as she'd only realised the night before that we weren't going on a group tour but irresponsibly subjecting ourselves to the dangers of female duo travel. This slightly mad looking old guy ranting on in tight trousers and a yellow jersey really wasn't helping our case or her nerves.

Fortunately, my brother-in-law was quite happy to humour the strange man whilst we set about loading up our bikes for the first time. The full weight of our ambitions hit home. This was going to be a challenge. Even going down the stairs required some assistance but fortunately Mum was out of sight for that part.

Then came the London Underground personnel. It strikes me that they're quite keen to speak to you when they see you've got a bicycle. Mostly it's "I wouldn't do that if I were you" or "Sorry Ma'am, you can't take your bicycle on the (insert network here) line". Not that I mind terribly, I mean, the fact that any of them allow bicycles at all and then for free is great! But with all the different companies running their own little bit of the public transport system with their own sets of rules, it's a little confusing to say the least. Mostly they are quite helpful in helping you plan an alternate route.

Not this morning however. Point blank "You can't take bicycles on the underground". Not strictly true, we tried to point out. After all, after months of planning and weeks of frantically getting our bicycles fitted out for the big occasion we'd have been foolish not to check that this line would allow us to complete the first stage of our journey. We pointed to the sign right in front of us explaining that bicycles were not permitted except between [certain] hours on [certain] lines as well as, uh oh, what's that say? Open air sections of [these lines].

My heart sank. Even without knowing what 'open air' sections were exactly, I was certain that no amount of my brother-in-law's negotiating or my father's praying would sway them. Even though the man obstructing us started to show some signs of empathy his hands were tied as any breach of policy would be plainly visible to the all-seeing surveillance cameras.

We heaved our overweight bikes up the stairs (just to make everything seem that much more impossible), unloaded our luggage into the car and rode home alone. By the time we could appreciate the scenery at our own pace, with sunlight peaking over the horizon and through the common, we grew philosophical about our situation. Such things were to be expected, my father said on our return, more than a little envious that we're still young enough to attempt such nonsense, free from the responsibilities of having families of our own.

As it turned out, the ferry company was quite happy to adjust our ticket so we'll be doing it all over again tonight at a much more sensible hour. This time we've made sure to actually speak to each of the train companies responsible for each leg of the journey to confirm the acceptable carriage of our precious bicycles. Fingers crossed!