Hub Velo Adventures: Shuhena Islam
Daniel Gould / Cycling Weekly (credit)
Shuhena Islam, a Hub Velo member, documents her emotionally charged adventure from London to Paris in memory of her father, Shirajul Islam, who was raised an orphan. In honour of her dad, Shuhena is helping to raise critical funds to protect those in need of sanitation against Covid-19 in developing countries, and to support orphans in need of shelter.
First let me tell you about my dad. He wasn’t particularly religious, but certainly appreciated particular customs. Whether that be traditional Bangladeshi attire, or always wearing a suit in England, he took pride in his appearance. Even on my graduation day he was in a wheelchair and insisted on a black tie and blazer.
Growing up, he was my best friend. I lived in hospital as a child, missing school for two years, and my dad would visit me every day. It wasn’t until aged 16 that I started to get better, and during this time, I found religion and faith in God really helped aid my recovery.
My dad raised seven strong daughters, taught us to be ambitious, and provided us with the freedom to study, travel extensively, and be myself. I’m certain my dad would be proud of how I am using cycling as a vehicle to try and inspire other Muslim women to get on their bikes, and ride alongside men as equals.
Instagram has created a great outlet for me to share my passions for cycling, and devote time to share my experiences to build a strong and safe community for women, especially those of the Muslim faith talk about their bikes and participate together.
Day 1 London to Dover
This day was by far the hardest and hilliest because Kent is the garden of England for a reason. The climbs and the views don’t disappoint!
I’d signed up with Global Adventures Challenges to do an organised trip. We started riding shortly after sunrise, and I was shocked that groups were not paced. We were given a GPX file and told to ride.
This was a shock and disappointment, but it’s also the reason I learned to ride solo, allowing myself to cry and grieve, and trust my poor sense of direction. I listened to a Stormzy song that reminded me of my dad. I tried to accept this ride would be solo and enjoy my own company. I got bored quickly, so I tried making friends with another rider, but I was much faster, so we couldn’t stick together.
I got through a few climbs and ended up howling. The punishing nature of riding up a hill brought my grief to the surface. I would do anything to get a hug from my dad, anything to feel his warmth and the bargaining part of bereavement kicked in.
I couldn’t gauge if other riders were faster or slower than me. I thought they were faster, but when I caught up I realised I easily dropped them including a few men (with my 5 second power). When these men caught with me on the hills, they were a little surprised. After lunch at a pub, I really struggled with the hills and the heat.
There was a 16% climb and I could see others dismount, but the photo of my dad on my bike kept me pedalling. I felt defiant to make my dad proud. I also struggled to keep my hijab on with about 50km remaining. I don’t condone taking it off - it’s just extreme heat I couldn’t handle. My bike and I finally made it to Dover for the ferry - the Covid-19 admin took forever. The white cliffs are beautiful - as was the fish and chips - at sunset. This was the perfect end to a long day on the saddle, knowing France was literally across the water and imminent. The biggest accomplishment was leaving England. I was super excited.
Day 2: Calais-Arras:
We arrived in Calais in the dark, riding a couple of kilometres to our hotel. My Dyspraxic mind felt instantly confused by which side of the road we had to ride on. I finally caught up on all the daily prayers - and most importantly- sleep!
The continental breakfast to start the day was not very appealing. I was craving eggs and hash browns, but I had to settle for some yoghurt and pastries! Prayer was later in France - I managed to pray, eat and leave much later than I’d planned - afterwards I felt drained and wasn’t particularly motivated to ride. The French countryside was stunning, which boosted my energy levels early on. I soaked up every moment of riding through the beautiful villages and country lanes, savouring the climbs, and enjoyed the safety on the descents with the road surfaces much smoother than I’d been used to in England. I was surprised by how respectful French drivers were whilst overtaking, and how lorry drivers and farmers on their tractors made friendly eye contact with me – it was a completely new experience for me. I felt ready to take a detour and go to the Alps during these few hours, basking in the sun whilst cycling solo.
I made a brief stop for lunch. However, being alone for hours brought some of my own inner demons to the surface, not just grief for my father, but some of the loneliness you can feel on and off the bike. It started raining mid-ride, but I was quite happy to ride through it!
I wish I’d paid attention to French lessons at school as I stopped to use the toilet at what looked like a horse stable. It was an agricultural place, and they were lovely, and I had to use Google translate to communicate. I love horses so it gave me joy on a very long ride!
At the hotel, got a sneaky French pastry before dinner. Our evening meal contained beer sauce as the fun twist to halal vegetables. I stayed up chatting, uploaded my longest ever solo ride to Strava, and received a much-needed morale boost from all the lovely comments of encouragement, which even contained a marriage proposal lol.
Day 3: Arras – Compiègne
This was the worst day of cycling because riding on my period was an absolute nightmare. I wanted to ride with others, so I decided to start earlier than the others after a leisurely breakfast of Coco Pops (a childhood favourite of mine) Within the first hour, I wasn’t prepared to ride on my period, so I stopped at a pharmacy. Pills were prescription only, so I had to keep going.
I caught up with the guys. They kept saying how fast my bike was. I was like erm… “Hello, here is the engine!” On one of the day’s first climbs, I dropped a guy on a Pinarello, which gave my ego a little boost, but I was even more surprised further up the hill to discover four men on my wheel (a first for me and a real compliment!).
If you’ve ever been on the front of a group cycling up a hill, setting a steady, manageable pace and keeping your cadence up is crucial. The last thing I wanted was to drop any of them, so I kept the pace at 23-24kph, which felt easier. One cyclist said his sister was a partner at a law firm, so I found myself networking on a bike ride!
At the 100km mark my period was unbearable. I was leaking through my shorts and felt pretty humiliated. We were told there was a steep climb coming up. The toilet was unusable, and I burst into tears. It was the only time I wanted to quit the ride. One guy referred to the picture on my bike, but I was definitely not crying for my dad. I was crying because I was bleeding. Eventually, I realised my luggage was in the van and I was so thankful that I packed a fifth pair of shorts. I managed to get changed and came out a whole new woman that was ready to face any climb, and tackle any distance! I put Surah Baqarah on – I feel calmer listening to the Quran – and off I went. The hill was a speed hump, probably 5%, and I plodded along. With 10km to go, I stopped at a boulangerie (my favourite French word) for a croissant.
Tour de France riders aren’t worried about their periods riding into Paris. Why did I have to?! In Compiègne, I found a pharmacy. I’d never tried period pants before, but I was completely sold. Best 13 Euros I had spent: Good for the environment, and great to ride over 100km in! Now, onto Paris!
Day 4: Compiègne to Paris:
It seemed so surreal to be starting the final day. I woke up at 3am with period pain. I started to panic about the packing I had to do. I stayed up and faced a day’s riding feeling sleep deprived. My dad used to tell me off for faffing! Sadly, I never inherited his discipline.
I spent forever packing, took in a late breakfast - a mix of pancakes with coco pops - before receiving a text from a mentor when I was 17, Gail. This felt like a sign from my guardian angel. She lived in Paris, and it was the perfect motivation just when I needed it most.
Morale was low, and I could feel my mind was ready to give up despite my body feeling in good shape. That morning, I was so grateful for the outpouring of messages of support that I received on Strava, and from my WhatsApp cheerleaders. Fuelled on by this community and more glorious sunshine, I continued to turn the pedals.
Lunch wasn’t pleasant, so we didn't stop for long, and I stuck in the group to keep my spirits high. We were all feeling pretty exhausted - Paris felt a long way away - and it wasn’t helped by my only puncture at 450km.
Eventually, we reached the Louis Vuitton Museum. The traffic riding through central Paris was horrible, making the last 50km fairly unpleasant. The chaos riding to all the famous monuments - Champs-Élysées, Arc de Triomphe, and the Eiffel Tower was overwhelming.
There was no podium finish, no yellow jersey, but I could feel a sense of grief awaited me. One of the lovely messages I received en route to the finishing line was to say my prayers, and listen to Quran, which I tried to do.
At the Eiffel Tower I collapsed, full of emotion and overwhelmed by exhaustion. I couldn’t stop crying because no matter what I did, it wouldn’t bring him back and I couldn’t EVEN tell my dad that I was riding for him. I sat on the pavement sobbing. Words failed to describe how I felt. Even if I tried to cycle to the moon, it won’t change that my dad is dead. I hope somewhere he’s proud InshaAllah.
I found solace and peace hearing my mum’s voice on the phone. She didn’t know where I was, and she reassured me that crying all night won’t bring my dad back, and I should be proud of what I’d accomplished. I called Gail to let her know I’d arrived way ahead of the eight-hour WhatsApp pin I’d dropped earlier.
Day 5: Less than 24 hours in Paris
It takes a village to calm me down, Rob was my village. He drove me to the Eiffel Tower where the most delightful Russian man @sergeylomashko took some photos and told me to cycle to Moscow.
We shared a celebration dinner, meaning I could swap my pyjamas for a nice outfit for the first time. I had a delicious meal of fish, so I was happy with my halal meal! That night, it was still hard to fall asleep.
I still managed to wake up at 6am, thinking I needed to ride my bike, but Colin (my bike) was already on a ferry back home at that point. I didn’t know what to do with myself, and felt a bit lonely, so I treated myself to a fancy breakfast from a pancake machine!
I met Gail in central Paris, and insisted I wanted to visit the Grand Mosque. She and her husband also cycle and brought their daughter on her bike. It gave me so much joy to share my adventures with Gail, after not seeing her for years.
I loved visiting the Grand Mosque and sharing my faith with Gail. Her daughter is four and was intrigued by the mosque and Islam. I sat in the prayer area, overwhelmed by the journey I’d come on, thankful to Allah for all the blessings of this trip. I was in awe of the fountains, the garden, a resplendent building, like a replica of the Gardens of Paradise. Gail said I’m just as driven and ambitious as I was when I was 17. She’s right, I now channel my energy into my cycling, probably more than my career.
Gail inspired me to become a lawyer, helped secure work experience, and has continuously supported my career. I wouldn’t be a lawyer without her. It’s why I always try to give back to young girls, through cycling and my career.
The Eurostar got us back to London super-fast! I was overjoyed to be reunited with my bike, to eat chicken curry for the first time in 5 days, and tell mum all about my trip. Once I got back into my own bed, it felt like it never even happened.
I am trying to reach a £5,000 fundraising target. If my story has inspired you, please visit my Just Giving page and donate to Penny Appeal’s Covid 19 emergency appeal here: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/cycling-london2paris
KIT BREAKDOWN: London to Paris (500km over 4 days riding)
Hijabs x 3-4
Jerseys x4
Bib shorts x5
Base layers x 2
Leg warmers x2
Arm warmers x2
Pairs of socks x3
Bras x3
Sunglasses x2
Helmet
Rain jacket and gilet
Shoes
