The mighty Salisbury Cathedral looked down on the team with pride.
Day two started with high hopes in the team, even though they had 70+ miles to cover. David's support really helped however, and the warm and well rested team departed at 7:40 am. They headed south-east towards the unexplored Salisbury City, along a splendid B-road full of sheep and fields and nice country folk. The sun began to expose itself from the clouds as noon grew near, and the team felt suddenly overwhelmed by this taste of what was yet to come. Finally out of Salisbury with a fond cathedral memory, the team progressed well covering the miles as if they were well turned hot-cross buns in a Rocky 3 montage. However, good progress slowly turned into a hard test of endurance once the road to Romsey gradually became more and more undulated. They suddenly realised that this was a long and arduous task before them. After each tedious hill was passed, they finally arrived at a Portsmouth sign, which tragically deceived their sense of well-being. Soon the terrified group was lost in a vast web of A-roads and Motorways, and like frightened rabbits, they scurried towards the cross channel Ferry Terminal. They met the family of 80's man team member Tom who was sporting a lovely but striking cycling jersey which looked like it was made by a man who was fired from designing bus seat covers in the 80's. His family still greeted them with tremendous splendour despite the terrible circumstances and fashion they were in. After a good meal, the team boarded the Ferry and slept like babies in a small cabin made for two.