Marrakech, Morocco
Oh God, save me!! I feel dreadful. Having spent a sleepless night battling the onset of food poisoning I emerge from the tent I've been sharing with Paul into the dawn light around 6am and make the first of repeated visits to the tiny chemical loo. It's not built for the abuse it gets over the next couple of hours, not only from me but a few others whose tummies are in revolt. However no-one else is (yet) succumbing to the ravages of nausea sweeping over me.
As the campsite comes to life it's obvious that only a lucky few got a decent sleep but spirits are high as it's the final push today and we're travelling downhill towards Marrakech and along flat canal-side roads. We've also got 30km less to go than yesterday, with 'just' 50km to do between 8am and 1.30pm.
To be honest I'm in no fit state to get on a bike and manage just a piece of dry bread for breakfast, but misplaced bravery sees me go through the pre-ride stretches and I suck down an energy gel into my rebellious stomach to help get me started.
Paul and Alex are happy to take things easy and we head off at a slower pace than yesterday. At first the breeze as we ride along is a welcome livener but I start to struggle as we hit the first off-road section, every bump and pothole, rock and slippery scree, making the bike bounce and my stomach turn somersaults. Once we get to the canal the long, flat stretches get easier but as the sun climbs higher in the sky I get weaker and weaker.
After 17km we reach the first rest stop and I slump down on the ground, unable to really make any conversation. Unfortunately my super-strong sun-block, which gives me a coating of white face paint, masks my deathly pallor so no-one realises I'm feeling quite as horrific as I do, and I'm so damn determined to complete this final leg that I'm ignoring the symptoms of dehydration that are growing by the hour.
Today is by far the hottest day to date, with the temperature app on my blackberry saying it's already in the mid-90s in the shade and it's not even 10am. We set off again, Alex and Paul keeping a steady pace that I match but as we pull into the second rest stop 15km later I dump the bike and immediately vomit twice.
We call the doctor over and he gives me an anti-nausea pill but as I'm not exhibiting further signs of sun stroke such as shivering or delusion and we've got just one more stretch to complete before we regroup for the triumphant entrance to Marrakesh, crossing the finishing line at the Kotoubia Mosque, I get back on the bike and set off again.
Within five minutes however it's all over. I cry "Stop" as loudly as I can, pull off to the side of the road and start projectile vomiting. Alex and Paul down their bikes and check I'm OK as the torrent continues, while other cyclists pass with looks of concern. Once I stop vomiting and am slumped over my handlebars Paul pulls out his camera and takes a photo as evidence of my demise and a concerned Claude hoves into view.
He sends Paul and Alex on their way and tells me to sit in the shade of a nearby tree as the sun by now is beating down rays well in excess of 100 degrees and I'm at risk of serious dehydration as I can't keep any fluids inside me. Nick, the doctor, arrives within ten minutes alongside the support vehicle and, almost too weak to stand, I'm helped into the van. Once it's established I'm not dangerously ill, we set off at the back of the pack and with the windows wound down to prevent me fainting I watch as everyone else manages to cycle into Marrakech.
Finally, about 500 metres from the Koutoubia Mosque everyone stops by the side of the road and I remount my bike and manage to cross the finish line, almost delirious by now and too weak to celebrate but able to stand for the photos with a sickly grin on my face.
We've done it!! It's almost, unexpectedly, killed me but who cares - our totaliser is well over £10,000 for good causes and the group as a whole have raised thousands more.
The rest of the guys cycle on to the final hotel of the expedition, the lovely Sofitel where a welcome lunch is laid on followed by a guided tour of the famous medina and souks of Marrkech. I'm driven there but, unable to face food, head straight to bed where I'm out cold for almost six hours, missing all the fun.
I make it back down to the lobby for 8pm where coaches are laid on to take us all out for a celebration dinner. But it seems my bug has claimed more victims since the end of the ride. Dave's decidedly peaky as are a few others who've succumbed to diarrhoea and Des is now confined to his room, so far the only one to also be vomiting, and sadly he'll miss the gala finale.
I'm much refreshed by my sleep and, while still weak and unable to eat, clamber aboard the buses and join everyone at the restaurant in the heart of the Medina. Called Dar Essalam, it's where Alfred Hichcock shot scenes for the 1956 movie 'The Man Who Knew Too Much' and is a converted palace full of grand rooms, beautiful mosaic tiling and fantastically painted ceilings.
We're all given traditional Arabic and Moroccan clothes to wear and platters of local food are delivered; spiced lentils, sweet tomato and cinnamon jams, chicken pastilla with almonds in filo pastry, succulent lamb tagines, milk and custard tarts, plus lashings of Saharan wines. I watch it all being consumed whilst sipping glasses of water. It's tragically disappointing and even the whirling musicians and fine displays of belly-dancing pass me by.
I'm awarded my Morocco 2012 enamel badge and Rod announces that so far we've raised over £200,000 by completing the ride, but charges us to increase that figure once we get home.
Glasses are raised, new friendships celebrated and plans made for future fund-raising rides but by now it's almost midnight and I can't wait to get back to bed, in the hope that tomorrow I'll be back to full health. Coman is due to arrive into Marrakech on an early morning flight to join me for a few day's recovery and we've booked a little riad that Paul's found on lastminute.com so I want to be fit enough to enjoy our break together.
But another catastrophe lies ahead...
