Mike's epic odyssey

IF YOU ask Google how far Tangier is from York, it will tell you precisely 1,699 miles. Mike Smith, on the other hand, will say, with equal precision, 2,732 miles and he should know, because Mike is just back from travelling each and every one of them.

Why the discrepancy? Well Mike's mode of transport wasn't a car or train, he cycled the whole way to raise funds for Age UK, York's bid to replace its ageing fleet of vehicles. And if you've been to southern Spain, you'll know the last thing he needed was to ride up those rugged mountains for days on end.

The only alternative was to go the long way round, using those manic coastal dual carriageways. As you might imagine, that proved rather hairy.

"I wasn't prepared for the speed and volume of traffic," says Mike. "It was horrific for 900 miles, riding next to two lanes of very fast traffic on twisting, turning roads. There was wind drag from lorries and I had thoughts of mortality, thinking, is this really where I want to go?

"I had committed myself for the charity, otherwise I would have definitely put my bike on a train to get beyond this part of the ride."

Straits of Gibraltar. Picture: Mike Smith

If that wasn't enough, Mike had chosen May to avoid searing summer temperatures. Unfortunately this year saw a heatwave and the temperature didn't drop below 30 degrees C for four weeks.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves. 65-year-old Mike's epic road journey began in equally hot Tangier, separated by a mere 35 minute ferry ride from Spain but which, culturally, could be light years away.

After the war the city gained a reputation for sleaze. Since 1999, though, it has steadily cleaned its act up and sent hustlers packing. At least that's what Mike had been told. But it seems someone forgot to tell a young lad called Ali.

The Kasbah in Tangier. Picture: Mike Smith

"I was at the edge of the Kasbah and immediately befriended by him," says Mike. "It took me a minute to realise what he was, but by then he had taken charge and I was hooked. I could only ditch him by being rude or aggressive. He was very slick."

Ali took Mike to a campsite near the edge of the city, right through the centre of the Kasbah.

"It took over an hour to get there, seeing sights worth every penny of the outrageous fee I was about to hand over," says Mike. "The haggling for this was a masterclass in parting someone from their money and Ali did a remarkable disappearing act whenever a cop was near."

When he finally reached the campsite, Mike realised it was only ten minutes from where he had started out. He bumped into a rather sheepish Ali the following day.

So began an eventful journey from North Africa to North Yorkshire. On the way Mike lost his maps, dropped his riding helmet and got ripped off a few more times.

"I'd expected the Spain leg to be the less expensive part of the trip and food did seem a fair bit cheaper than in France, but the campsites were a big disappointment.

"Granted, I was going through pure tourist country, but on a site near Marbella I was charged 24.50 euros for a small plot of gravel on baked clay that I couldn't hammer a peg into, with no shade."

That said, the highs outweighed the lows and Mike met some curious people. For instance, while cycling in heavy traffic south of Almeria, he thought he was having auditory hallucinations.

"I kept hearing Bob Dylan singing and it didn't seem to fade away. After about five minutes it got louder, then Lope, a Spanish touring cyclist on his way to France pulled up beside me. He had speakers for his MP3 player on his handlebars.

"A big Dylan fan, as am I, he learned much of his English by listening to him."

France at last

After Barcelona the terrain gradually became more gentle and Mike could get off the main roads. Things were even better in France, with relatively flat, quiet secondary roads to choose. Riding past the Canal du Midi was a particularly tranquil highlight after the crazy Costa highways and the campsites were cheaper too, some no more than three euros.

Canal du Midi. Picture: Mike Smith

"My nerves began to mend and my adrenalin level returned to normal," says Mike. "Although, rather than dropping, as I'd hoped, the temperature actually rose to the mid thirty degrees C. for three or four days.

To cope, he was drinking five litres of water a day and took great care to keep his nutrients topped up. To ward off the bugs he swore by Avon's Skin So Soft oil, apparently as used by Marine Commandos – There's a story to that isn't there? Who knew?

After a month of continuous hot sun the weather finally broke. Mike was in St Savin near Poitiers where the campsite guardienne advised a regional state of emergency had been declared, because violent thunder storms were imminent.

"She showed me an emergency refuge I could use if the storm hit, but I had a new state of the art stormproof tent that I was keen to test – until things got rough," says Mike." About 8 pm lightning started and continued ceaselessly for about two hours, making it seem like full daylight.

"The wind got up at around 10 pm, then there was an eerie quiet before the rain hit. Except it didn't. It was like a full overture to a piece by Wagner - then the rest of the symphony was cancelled. Nothing. The storm had moved south."

Next morning was much calmer, with a temperature in the mid teens. Perfect cycling weather, then.

Indeed it was all the way to the channel and Mike reached Zeebrugge for the Hull ferry on the evening of the June 19 - with five minutes to spare before boarding finished. He didn't even know if there was a ferry due.

"I'd decided some days before that if at all possible I'd try and get back for my grandson's third birthday on the 21st," he says. "In the last three days on the flatter land of northern France and Belgium I covered over 300 miles to do this."

So how did he celebrate on board the ferry? A bottle of Champagne perhaps, surely at least a beer? Well no. After sleeping on gravel for so long, he says simply getting into a decent bed was enough of a toast.

"I just looked back and thought bloody hell, 2,732 miles, I did it," says Mike. A number of times I'd felt like giving up, but I carried on because I feel passionately about the work Age UK York does. Without urgently needed replacement vehicles this work will be severely compromised."