It was this friendship that carried Ann through the toughest moments of the ride. By Day Five, she and her husband Mark had reached Richmond at 6:30pm, having already cycled more than 300 miles from Cornwall. “I was exhausted. My legs ached, my gears were misbehaving, and I was ready to stop,” she recalls. At a traffic light, she turned to Mark and said, half‑seriously: “We told people we were cycling from Cornwall to London… and we’re in London. Could we just get the train back to Camberwell?” 

They had set out to cycle from Lover’s Walk in Crackington Haven to their home in Love Walk, Camberwell, and he reminded her of the promise they had made. And, as Ann says, “Marieke, in her feisty Irish accent, would have told us to get on with it.” Mark took her pannier to lighten the load, and that small act of kindness made all the difference for the final ten miles. 

The journey itself was far from straightforward. They had mapped the route themselves, aiming for around 60 miles a day over five days and staying with friends along the way. Cycling apps sent them down rough, ancient tracks and chalky paths across the Downs. Devon and Somerset were relentless, with steep climbs and deep valleys that pushed them to their limits.

Over the five days, they climbed nearly 7,000 metres, roughly the equivalent of cycling 80% of Mount Everest. They battled headwinds, rain and even hail, and endured a 20‑mile stretch of rough gravel along the Kennet and Avon Canal that left them wishing for far more padding than they had. 

But the journey was also beautiful. Travelling slowly by bike meant noticing everything: bluebell woods, blossoming trees, quiet streams crossed by humpback bridges, and villages gathered around ancient churches. With every county boundary, the landscape changed – from Cornwall’s iron‑rich soil to Devon’s hidden lanes, the wide levels of Somerset, and the pale chalk hills of Wiltshire and Hampshire. “It felt like travelling not just across distance, but across the story of the land itself,” Ann says. 

Throughout it all, she kept thinking of Marieke. Even as her illness progressed, Marieke continued to live fully, swimming in cold water, walking with friends, knitting beautiful creations for those she loved. When her pain became more complex, St Christopher’s offered her a stay at the hospice to assess pain management options, but she gently said she wanted to remain at home. The team adapted immediately, ensuring she could stay where she felt most comfortable.

“That compassion, that flexibility, that respect for what matters most, that is what we were riding for,” Ann says.