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@Emilia
Rather late, I know, but I've enjoyed reading other people's reports so much that I feel inspired to make my own observations - which include the embarrassing admission that this was in some ways my hardest DD ever, even though I've been couriering for the past 9 months, and should by rights be fit as fuck. I had a really bad low patch at and after the feed stop, and the only reason I kept going was that there wasn't really any other option. (That and the caffeinated energy bars.)
But the first half was wonderful - it was so nice to be riding along without my skin sizzling in the sun and the radio barking at me constantly. I started out with a motley crowd of acquaintances, including the other half's father (who'd never done such a long distance, and was riding a £100 mountain bike, but left us behind going through Epping, and wasn't seen again till the beach, which he apparently reached nearly 3 hours before us) and an old friend who'd sworn for years that the DD just wasn't her thing, and that she'd never do it, but now was, and what's more was trying to survive it eating nothing but raw food. She looked barely alive when she finally reached the food stop, and I worried about her for the rest of the ride, but she made it too, and in much higher spirits than I'd have expected. Given how hard I found the ride, I am hugely impressed by everyone who finished it.
Didn't bloody expect it to rain though. And I was extremely irked by the puncture that appeared as I turned off after Peasenhall - exactly where I punctured 2 years ago, in similar conditions. What was worse, we broke a spanner trying to get the wheel off, so ended up patching the tube in situ. Luckily it held. I really felt for the dozen or so people I saw fixing punctures in the last five miles.
The aftermath was the best bit. Two of our party had left a van at the beach on Saturday morning, and weren't keen for a second Flora Cafe breakfast in the same weekend, so we piled into said van and drove off looking for a Little Chef. We actually did quite a bit better than that - found a rather upmarket farm cafe (with a small but obvious sprinkling of knackered-looking people in lycra, bizarrely including the woman I'd inadvertently been stalking round town all week) that served us good coffee and a much better class of fry up.
Then we headed back to London, where the epic mountain-biker insisted we find a jacuzzi to sit in. There followed a fruitless trudge round the leisure centres of Walthamstow, all of which were full to capacity, until we ended up compromising and paying a fiver apiece for the sauna at Cathall Leisure Centre. You are strongly advised not to do the same. The sauna suite consists of a small sweaty changing room, full of muddy puddles and other people's pubic hair, and with nowhere separate for men and women to get changed. The showers were tepid trickles and the toilet room hadn't been cleaned for a very long time. But we made the best of things, and I'm so glad we did - I went back to work today, and was pleasantly surprised by how good all my muscles and joints felt. I had very sore knees on and immediately after the ride, and was worried I'd done myself some damage, but something - probably the sauna - seems to have sorted them out.
Next year I reckon we should make a mass forum spa booking, as well as the coach and the removal lorry...