Jul 26, 2025

PEDAL TO PLATE: OUR LONDON TO BARCELONA EPIC

Sometimes the best cycling adventures aren't about crushing watts or conquering mountains – they're about discovering that the journey between breathtaking vistas and three-course lunches can be just as rewarding as any finish line. Our small group of five (Simon, Rob, David, Peter) quickly established that while our route from London to Barcelona aimed for distance and elevation, our stomachs aimed for gastronomic experiences.

Days 1-3: English Countryside to French Indulgence

What started as acclimatisation rides through Surrey's lush countryside with Ray and Simon as our local hosts, our lead up quickly evolved into something more than just leisurely. To make up for his poor decision to not join us for the full Barcelona route, Ray planned to join us for the Day 1 spin to Portsmouth, but a cruel sickness intervened. So, just the five of us rolled out from Hampton Court – ready for whatever France, Spain, and our appetites could throw at us.

The ride from Hampton Court to Portsmouth was everything you'd expect from English countryside – manor houses, rolling green hills, red kites giving way to seagulls as we neared the coast. Beers and dinner at Gunwharf Quay before the ferry felt like the perfect warm-up to the rest of our trip.

The overnight ferry to Caen revitalised us for what Simon declared "history day." Cycling through Normandy while getting a personal WWII history lesson, was both sobering and surreal. We stopped at Pegasus Bridge, visited the Mont-Ormel museum dedicated to the Battle of the Falaise Pocket, and tried to reconcile the peaceful countryside with the unimaginable events that unfolded here decades ago.

After the museum's heavy content, we gratefully indulged in some "micro naps" during the theatre presentation, carefully not giving ourselves away to each other. Sometimes even the most dedicated cyclists need a moment to recharge. You just can’t underestimate the power of a quick cat nap!

In the weeks leading up to our epic, Simon had studied the route with an accompanying Michelin guide. Our first Michelin restaurant was at La Suite in Alençon. Naturally, we started with an introductory Pastis, and the delicate balance (or conflict) between cycling effort and indulgence truly began.

Days 4-6: Wind and French Hospitality

Day 4 brought relentless wind and a reminder why cycling with friends matters. We found ourselves joining a larger group and, almost immediately, felt compelled to take charge and help the group ride together and protected in the crosswinds.

Then tragedy struck. Rob and Tim went down hard in what could only be described as slow-moving confusion. Rob's broken collarbone meant the end of his Barcelona dream, but we made sure he left with a finisher's medal in hand. Yes, we teased him mercilessly about receiving a medal without completing the full course – that’s what friends do.

The mood was sombre as we stopped at Oradour-sur-Glane, a village preserved in the state as it was left in 1944 - a chilling reminder of one of history's darkest moments. Walking slowly through the torched village remnants didn’t feel like a place to visit, but something we witnessed and will never forget.

By the evening, we were back to our essential tasks: laundry and critically planning upcoming restaurant options in Carcassonne and Albi.

It was also our declared "no (low) alcohol" day. This didn't start well when we immediately ordered a pichet of rosé at lunch, followed by three bottles of wine at dinner. Our "low alcohol" effort was questionable at best, but La Sporting was Google's top-rated local restaurant, and the sanctity of the Michelin guide was temporarily overlooked for a quality local entrecote and chips.

Days 7-9: The Dordogne and Michelin Stars

With Rob heading home (medal in hand), we were down to four as the weather finally smiled upon us. The Dordogne region unfolded like a cycling postcard – rolling hills, forests, and picturesque villages nestled along winding rivers. David and Pete embraced "gravity is my friend" philosophy, rocketing downhill with joyful abandon and a clear intent to not use their brakes.

Our coffee stops became legendary affairs, featuring full platters of pastries and the daily struggle of Simon and David accepting espresso when hot chocolate wasn't available. It's the small battles that define a tour.

Albi brought us a mercifully short 90km day, and Pete's knee drama. A painful patella had been nagging him all ride, but thankfully he was warmed up just in time for him to enjoy the last 10km. The short day allowed us to find a location for lunch and slowly devour steak tartare, burgers, and a salad of gizzards, before attending to admin and finding somewhere to watch the Roland Garros final. Rolan Garros wasn’t the most important item, it was second to our Michelin booking at Alchemy for 7pm! Albi was bustling with regional triathletes competing across the weekend, so we sat through our tasting menu as runners passed our table late into the night.

Days 8-10: Carcassonne and Culinary Rules

Before leaving Albi, we discovered that Pete's tyres were torn – not ideal for the way that he descends. A quick tyre change during our coffee stop, some filled baguettes in jersey pockets for a lunch on the way, and we were rolling again.

Carcassonne marked our rest day and formal acknowledgement of our very strict restaurant selection rules: no English menus, no pictures of food, and absolutely no one we know in the restaurant. This criteria was meant to ensure an authentic French experience, and it delivered, with Cassoulet for everyone.

Pete's birthday required a two-star Michelin restaurant, an "off-balance-sheet item", that shall remain shrouded in mystery to protect the guilty.

Days 11-12: Spain, a lesson in stomach patience

Crossing into Spain via the Col d'Ares felt like a gentle welcome rather than a brutal mountain pass. The anticipation of crossing the Pyrenees was a lot bigger than the actual climbing. The descent wasn't as steep as hoped, which meant that we were on the pedals for most of it – but overall it was a genuinely lovely day out.

Spanish dinner timing became its own adventure, a true test for hungry cyclists. 6pm was far too early for any serious dining activity in Catalonia. We found a tapas restaurant advertising opening hours from 6pm that showed no signs of life. After walking, waiting, and returning every 20 minutes until 7:30pm, we finally secured a table and indulged in delicious tapas and local wine.

Day 12: Barcelona Beckons

Our final morning carried a sense of anticipation. This was it – the final push to Barcelona. The route was a beautiful blend of mountain villages, distant cowbells and a mesmerising path through a national park that made it easy to lose concentration.

As we finally rolled into Barcelona, there was a profound sense of accomplishment. Not just from riding 1,428 kilometres, but from proving that a cycling adventure can be simultaneously challenging and thoroughly enjoyable - from Normandy's modern history to Spain's hunger-testing dining times, from broken collarbones to broken shoe covers, from rain to sunshine.

The perfect blend of stimulating cycling and magnificent gastronomic delights delivered exactly what we'd hoped for – an adventure that fed both our legs and our souls (and our stomachs). Often the best rides aren't about the destination, they're about discovering that the journey between coffee stops and Michelin stars can be just as rewarding as any summit.

We were ready for our final celebratory meal(s), we'd earned every single one of them.