The Eoin McLove crosses Ireland - you leave Whitehall, head to Lucan and use secondary roads to Athy, on to Templemore, Nenagh, Portumna, Drumshanbo, Belturbut, Ballybay, Virginia, Kells, Kilmessin and back to the car park in Whitehall. Seriously you would not drive it! So, 40 odd people, ten from Orwell set off in good spirits on a nice enough morning.

A collective madness of randonneurs and the communities along the route that support them on their journey. What else but madness could describe 6000 cyclists all who must qualify by riding 200, 300, 400- and 600-kilometre Brevet events just to get to the start line. Or for a 100 years whole communities, towns, villages and generations of families, set up sleep, food, coffee and water stops often for free to help this long chain of riders reach Paris? Why do the cyclists and spectators who share the 1200 Klm of road do this, for no prize, for no reward?  If this is not some collective madness, then it must be something beautiful, ordinary people doing something extraordinary.

Step 1: Do one 400 Brevet In 2018 which will almost guarantee a pre-registration place,

Step 2: Complete a series of Brevet’s in the first 6 months of 2019, a 200, 300, 400 and 600 and you get a start place.

It's easy you only need to ride 1900 kilometres in 18 months and you are on the start line.

In Villaines, the whole population is in the streets. “Huh, there seems to be a festival going on.” “YOU’re the festival, bozo!” I park the bike and run up the steps to get my card stamped. The crowd cheers and parts in front of me, the brevet card in my hand become the Olympic torch, carried across continents to the controller’s rubber stamp. Thanks to Kashif for these wonderful memories of PBP 2019