Last time I properly blogged I had just arrived in Hong Kong, and was feeling rather hollow. Going home was not something I’d thought about at all during my cycling, but it was always there as a reminder of what I had to be thankful for – all the comforts we come to expect. Now, suddenly as I faced this juncture head on, that carrot at the end of the stick seemed to be incredibly disappointing. There had certainly been a stick, for sure, but the carrot was fully a creation of my mind, and finishing seemed to bring no reward or relief; it merely left me existing in a situation slightly different to the one I’d been in previously.
I didn’t – within minutes I’d be back on English soil, and less than 100 miles from the end.