My mate has about 150km to go!! Go Matt!
He's in good shape. That's the point you really need to be at by dawn tomorrow.
For many, tonight is the 'big' one'. Everyone has now been in the saddle for 3 nights and three days, so fighting tiredness is relentless. Faster people like Matt have enough time in hand to be able to stop and sleep, but lots of people will be chasing the deadline and wrestling with the classic dilemma: Do I stop for a couple of hours in the hope I go better after some sleep or do I use every hour to just keep peddling? Many people's minds will be so addled that they have lost all hope of rational thought.
Some riders just peddle themselves to a stand still. The verges of the unlit Normandy lanes are strewn with sleeping bodies wrapped tightly in their space blankets, appearing as a succession of large shiny silver slugs in the glow of your bike lights. I passed one rider slumped by the very edge of the road, but it took me several minutes for my brain to register that he was both astride his bike and still clipped into his peddles! Surely no one can lay down under control without unclipping?
I went back to check he was uninjured. However my best intentions went unappreciated. This Japanese rider was obviously 'somewhere else' in his sleep and fought me off with a series of wild karate blows while his feet stayed firmly lodged in his peddles. As he came round he realised the true situation and after exchanging many 'sorrys', (the only word we shared in common), I continued into the dark.
In every village there was a cafe open all night. Double espressos were now the norm on the hour, every hour. You became slightly detached from what you could see. Was there really a land where everyone wears lycra and the bars stay open all night, specifically so cyclists from 25 different countries can meet up and chat? Perhaps PBP really is cycling heaven.