I am fortunate enough to meet with Sawan, a former work colleague who is now living Sri Lanka, for breakfast. Over a quick hour we catch up on news. He returned to Sri Lanka to rescue his family’s flagging business. They run a restaurant in Negombo, not too far from our hotel in Minuwangoda. We plan to catch up again on the last day of the trip when I am back in Colombo. With luck I will get to meet his family – including his new baby – see the restaurant and maybe experience some of his mother’s cooking!

There are many preparations before we can head out on the bikes. We have a briefing at 8am and the aim is to leave by 9. We have around 85km to ride today, which is a big ask after a huge travelling day yesterday.

Of course it takes longer to get ready – there are hand cycles to unpack and prepare – but we are ready to roll by 10am. We have a paparazzi group buzzing around taking photos and videos of everything going on. I’m first told they are from a local paper and have been waiting all morning to see us set out, but it turns out they are going to be travelling with us the whole trip, to make a promotional video for our local travel company.

It’s a bit hairy getting through the busy streets near our hotel. We are all getting used to our bikes and road conditions, but luckily we are riding on the left hand side of the road. My brakes are touchy, and it takes a while to learn just how far to squeeze the brake lever.

Soon we turn off the busy road, and things quieten down a bit as we get into the rhythm. We have a few regrouping stops during the first 20km stretch. There are some bike mechanicals to deal with – Jeremy has lost his lower gear range and has to work too hard on hills – not a great start.

My first daylight impressions of Sri Lanka is that it is India-lite. It looks a bit similar, the activity around us is similar, with tuk-tuks, loaded motor bikes, small roadside shops and restaurants, but is seems slower, less frenetic, less overwhelming, and more laid back.

Our first rest stop is at a roadside restaurant. We are treated to coconuts, (green) orange juice, lemon juice, pineapple sprinkled with salt and pepper – strangely delicious and refreshing – watermelon, delightful sugar bananas and another fruit that is like a cross between kiwi fruit, pear, peach and custard apple. The restaurant staff are delighted with our reactions to the fruit, and the plates keep coming.

Our main cycling guide (still trying to catch and store his name) is anxious about time – it was supposed to be only a ten-minute break, but I guess he has a bit to learn about this group. Getting everybody to the toilet can take a half hour!

The second leg for the day is along a semi-shaded road, mildly undulating. It is only 17km and flies by. We stop by a Buddhist temple and lunch comes out. By the way the unmarked bags are handed around, I’m guessing there is no vegetarian lunch. They are all the same: tuna sandwiches, chicken, a fruit bun, a banana and an orange juice. Ajith, our tour guide, says he was not informed of dietary requests, but will sort things out for tomorrow. I scavenge around, feeling a bit like a kid at school, and wind up with about five bananas, and a couple of fruit buns. The bananas are delicious and no chore to eat. I think I am up to about eight bananas for the day.

The paparazzi dog us, following every move. Take drink of water – camera in your face. Line a few people up for a fun shot – they’re there snapping away. They drive around in their black and silver van, and hang out the windows with cameras snapping away. If this is what it is like to be a celebrity, I’m done.

It’s easier to take the locals, who have genuine curiosity. They drive alongside in their tuk-tuks or vans, or on their motor bikes. Some say hello and have a chat; others just stare.

If there is a documentary in a team of people cycling around Sri Lanka, I think there is another in recording the reactions of people as we pass by. There are those who stop and stare, then break into a radiant grin when we call out “Ayubowan” (hello). There are the head turns, like whole families on motor bikes, whose heads turn in sync to stare at we exotics. There’s the cars that go by, with delighted cackle floating through the open window – and you know it is In response to our motley crew.

Riding trips like this turn the tables. We think we are here to see the country, but it is we who are the main show. Everyone has a smart phone, and we have many smart phones pointed at us.

After lunch it is a hard slog in mid-30 temperatures. The road rises and falls, not steep, but enough to take the stuffing out of a bunch of jetlagged travellers. I ride with Alex and Annette. Alex finds the hills tough, and is frustrated she can’t get more out of her bike and body. It is a slow ride up several steady hills, but once she hits the top, she is off like a rocket, and neither Annette nor I, on our mountain bikes, can catch her on her recumbent handcycle. She blitzes flat and downhill; it’s just the damn uphill that gets her. A bit like me.

At the 60km mark we stop by the roadside and drink semi-cold orange juice. Though our crew have been attentive to our needs, offering water at each stop, it isn’t cold water. It is almost warm enough to make a cup of tea, and it is hard to drink enough of it to keep hydrated. I guzzle a few cups of OJ.

The attrition rate is high at this stop – only seven of thirteen hit the road for the final 27km push. We spread out pretty quickly. I ride with Anne for a short way, then pass her and keep going, catching up some time later with Jude and Richard and one of our guides. We all ride together for some time before Richard shoots off.

I’m a bit weary by now and not really taking in my surroundings. I pass Jude on a hill and ride alone for several kilometres before I catch sight of Paul in the distance. I tell my weary legs to just shut up (!) and push a little harder to catch him. We’re both a bit tired – just looking for the end – and share a few words, but mostly ride in silence, ticking down the kilometres.

When we both think it is about time to be stopping, we round a corner. We find guides at all our turns. They stop traffic and point us in the right direction. We ask the guides at this turn how far. “Four kilometres.”

There are times when you just have to grit your teeth and dig deep. Four kilometres doesn’t sound far, unless you are asking legs that are pretty much had it to keep pushing that bit further. The distance passes and we pull into our home for the night- Buddi Samurda Hotel, Nikaweratiya.

Soon Jude arrives, then Anne, and then Annette and Alex roll in – and we’re all home! Ray and Richard both arrived a little earlier. There’s been some plucky riding today.

Annette and I share a largely cold beer and take a dip in the very cold pool. Our hotel overlooks a lake, but we don’t see much of that as dark falls pretty quickly after we arrive.

The dinner choices at the hotel are a bit disappointing, and the hotel itself is a bit inaccessible – reception on the ground floor, but all the rooms upstairs. I figure it is probably the best hotel within riding distance of our starting point. They serve dinner on the balcony on the first floor, just off the function room, which is set up for a “wedding homecoming”. Not only do couples have massive wedding ceremonies, they back it up a few days later after their honeymoon, with a massive function. Sometimes this party happens at home, but if there isn’t enough room at home, it is held at a hotel like this one. The wedding business is alive and well in this part of the world.

Stats for the day

• Distance travelled: 88.2km
• Climb: 454m
• Moving time: 4:56:46
• Average speed: 17.8km/h
• Average temperature: 31C
• See our ride on Strava.

Along the way today: