Anyway, to celebrate the working man, two-thirds of the TroisV rode a very hilly route (we deviated quite a bit from this map, but anyway) to Brighton. We dealt with uncertain weather (I made a significant tactical error by wearing tights, whereas I should've just let my legs be cold for the first hour, which was in London anyway), difficulties in navigation (Jon! We need your GPS and its purple line!), two punctures (the second of which was wholly my fault), cranky legs and Ditchling Beacon, a picture of which follows:
Anyway, valuable lessons were learned about eating enough, dressing properly, not bringing a dodgy spare as your backup, and the International Working Men's Movement.
Some of those, anyway.
The important thing is, we made it to Brighton, and have a photograph to prove it. We were banned from walking our bikes down to the end of the pier, due to our suspicious similarity to the IRA (apparently; "being in possession of a bicycle" is enough, though I'm not willing to start comparing our plight to Mexican-Americans in Arizona quite yet.
To make up for not being able to walk the pier, we watched some trampoliners, discussed kidneys, and rode to the station.
The ride stats, courtesy of Dr. Matt's computer:
5:34 ride time
In South London, we were encouraged for a hundred yards or so by someone who played the album version of today's musical choice for us: