Epic. That is the only word that can describe this trip. Everyone brought something different to the trip:
Andrew - Great leadership skills no matter what the Garmin said, we trusted your judgement all the way!
Nigel - On a bike that was screaming NO! You powered through with a smile on your face, unreal commitment. Great to share your 50th!
Eric - Constant smile and enthusiasm for tyre change, your help was greatly appreciated!
Mike - Im not sure those bruises were obtained in the saddle you know....beautiful bike and rider in harmony.
Paul - Could watch you all day on the bike, great technique, nice guy and amazing courage to beat the mountains in the condition you were in.
Neil - On the creaky steed, Brucie was the link for the back runners constantly pulling them back up to the rest of the group, harsh and funny in the same breath as all good scots are (especially towards the neish!)
Will - Legend on a bike. Powers away from anything and anyone, infectious laugh, this lad has it all. Minus map reading.
Miska - Fin-tastic! Top guy, battled injury from the start (not helped by our little detour...) quote of the tour on the way up the moutains (unrepeatable here). Knew his limits but stomped all over them.
Neish - First to the top of the mountain. Most falls. Best early moring face I have ever seen. Worst smelling human ever. All round legend Shauny Neish power house at whatever he does (so annoying!!)
Big love to you all, I can honestly say I would not change anything.
And as for the support team.......You were an absolute dream, everywhere we needed you and then some we could not have made it with out you! x
My mobile took a dip in the pool so my only communication is email....
Rome anyone?!
Saturday, 4 July 2009
Friday, 26 June 2009
Nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition..
Well...nearly two weeks since our epic journey to Barcelona and I've finally got around to putting my contribution onto the blog. Can I firstly say, in all sincerity what a terrific pleasure it was to have ridden with 9 great guys and overcome a task that after only a few days of howling gale force winds and constant soaking by rain, seemed to be a challenge beyond what many of us had ever expected. That's the serious bit over with...
Memories for me (in no particular order)... Nigel what can I say apart from a bloody hero.. Iron man Nige basically cycled the entire journey on his own. This was partly due to the low quality of his steed and partly the even lower quality of his jokes. Faced with a 900+ miles epic journey over mountains and in weather Ranulph Fiennes would have packed, Nigel chose to do it on a ladies bike, complete with ladies handle bars and ladies tyres. Early training should have highlighted his error in judgement, but even a fall on his way to Lidl one morning when his basket came loose and became inadvertently snagged in his tights did not deter him. I've never seen a man sweat so much; sorry you got caught for that round of beers mate, but you had to be at the front of the bunch sometime Nige. You're a hero in my books mate and rememember 'that is not my dougue...'
Neish, how many times can someone fall off a bike??? Shaun even fell off mine and he wasn't even riding it. He was a rider who despite his extraordinary individual gravitional force field became stronger and stronger throughout the ride and actually crossed the top of the Pyranees first. Well done and well done for having a shirt which covered more asphalt than your tyres. Another thank you along with several others who helped me during the last few days when feeling particularly rough, cheers..
Andrew. Despite a large amount of heckling from the ranks about his Garmin navigation and his map reading ability, actually made the whole trip possible and did a fantastic job of getting us to Barcelona. Undoubtedly a certain level of nervousness was however created in the peleton toward the end when he was spotted staring at his bike Garmin for more than a few seconds; usually an emergency Dal-stop was about to happen, spreading riders to the four winds in all kinds of rapid emergency manouvres in an effort to prevent a pile up of epic proportions. Andrew (ney, Ridgeley) remained undetered, instead regularly deploying his specially designed McLaren F1 carbon fibre brake set, oblivious to the sound of screeching tyre smoke, and profanity that would make John Lydon blush.
Neil. The first Scotsman i've ever seen with a sun-tan. Long suffering room mate, who put up with my constant whingeing about my throat infections and fever; although my sympathy was slightly reduced by a small admission later that he had also had a throat infection early on in the ride, but felt much better after passing it to me. A man of awesome staying power on a bike and in the bar.
Mike, ultimate respect; a man who managed to ride the whole 900 miles in completely the wrong gear and of such patriotic determination, not seen since the days of Churchill, rode the whole way on the British side of the road - sterling stuff, S.A.S. - bunch of poofters mate. Mike was Mr. Steady throughout the whole ride and was one of those who I think proved to himself what he could achieve physically even with an injured shoulder; he was also one who became stronger as the days went on and never gave up.
Miska, second only to Iron Man Nige, the Mighty Myska rode with an injured hamstring through many miles. His hill climbing becoming a strong part of his riding and his now famous politeness and affability even extended to advising his fellow climbers on the tougher climbs in Cholmondeley Warner style, that he was about to 'engage a higher gear'....'I hope you don't mind, and please don't be alarmed, but....' and off his hairy legs would carry him into the distance. Great composure, and I think Lance Armstong may be missing a trick here?
Mark, rode strongly throughout, looked good on the bike, funny, friendly, good company, i feel sick...
Eric - my main man. Helped me in my darkest hour (or so) up the Pyranees and was constantly up-beat during the whole journey. Bent his body parts in ways I had never seen before even on Dutch TV and if David Carradine had been able to do, he may well still have been with us today. On many occassions I thought we had lost Eric, but his was merely slipping into enforced unconciousness as a desperate attempt to avoid hearing another one of Nigel's jokes.
Will, stronger than a dozen of Neish's shirts after 11-days and a man who has no need to change down a gear at any time. Coupled with a real talent to ride a bike into a gale force head wind at 24mph for miles and would then turn around and wonder where everyone else had disappeared to....Ultimate respect mate, although there is something wrong with you.
Thanks for the experience chaps...and a big thank you to Karen, Isabella and Anna for the sterling support.
Memories for me (in no particular order)... Nigel what can I say apart from a bloody hero.. Iron man Nige basically cycled the entire journey on his own. This was partly due to the low quality of his steed and partly the even lower quality of his jokes. Faced with a 900+ miles epic journey over mountains and in weather Ranulph Fiennes would have packed, Nigel chose to do it on a ladies bike, complete with ladies handle bars and ladies tyres. Early training should have highlighted his error in judgement, but even a fall on his way to Lidl one morning when his basket came loose and became inadvertently snagged in his tights did not deter him. I've never seen a man sweat so much; sorry you got caught for that round of beers mate, but you had to be at the front of the bunch sometime Nige. You're a hero in my books mate and rememember 'that is not my dougue...'
Neish, how many times can someone fall off a bike??? Shaun even fell off mine and he wasn't even riding it. He was a rider who despite his extraordinary individual gravitional force field became stronger and stronger throughout the ride and actually crossed the top of the Pyranees first. Well done and well done for having a shirt which covered more asphalt than your tyres. Another thank you along with several others who helped me during the last few days when feeling particularly rough, cheers..
Andrew. Despite a large amount of heckling from the ranks about his Garmin navigation and his map reading ability, actually made the whole trip possible and did a fantastic job of getting us to Barcelona. Undoubtedly a certain level of nervousness was however created in the peleton toward the end when he was spotted staring at his bike Garmin for more than a few seconds; usually an emergency Dal-stop was about to happen, spreading riders to the four winds in all kinds of rapid emergency manouvres in an effort to prevent a pile up of epic proportions. Andrew (ney, Ridgeley) remained undetered, instead regularly deploying his specially designed McLaren F1 carbon fibre brake set, oblivious to the sound of screeching tyre smoke, and profanity that would make John Lydon blush.
Neil. The first Scotsman i've ever seen with a sun-tan. Long suffering room mate, who put up with my constant whingeing about my throat infections and fever; although my sympathy was slightly reduced by a small admission later that he had also had a throat infection early on in the ride, but felt much better after passing it to me. A man of awesome staying power on a bike and in the bar.
Mike, ultimate respect; a man who managed to ride the whole 900 miles in completely the wrong gear and of such patriotic determination, not seen since the days of Churchill, rode the whole way on the British side of the road - sterling stuff, S.A.S. - bunch of poofters mate. Mike was Mr. Steady throughout the whole ride and was one of those who I think proved to himself what he could achieve physically even with an injured shoulder; he was also one who became stronger as the days went on and never gave up.
Miska, second only to Iron Man Nige, the Mighty Myska rode with an injured hamstring through many miles. His hill climbing becoming a strong part of his riding and his now famous politeness and affability even extended to advising his fellow climbers on the tougher climbs in Cholmondeley Warner style, that he was about to 'engage a higher gear'....'I hope you don't mind, and please don't be alarmed, but....' and off his hairy legs would carry him into the distance. Great composure, and I think Lance Armstong may be missing a trick here?
Mark, rode strongly throughout, looked good on the bike, funny, friendly, good company, i feel sick...
Eric - my main man. Helped me in my darkest hour (or so) up the Pyranees and was constantly up-beat during the whole journey. Bent his body parts in ways I had never seen before even on Dutch TV and if David Carradine had been able to do, he may well still have been with us today. On many occassions I thought we had lost Eric, but his was merely slipping into enforced unconciousness as a desperate attempt to avoid hearing another one of Nigel's jokes.
Will, stronger than a dozen of Neish's shirts after 11-days and a man who has no need to change down a gear at any time. Coupled with a real talent to ride a bike into a gale force head wind at 24mph for miles and would then turn around and wonder where everyone else had disappeared to....Ultimate respect mate, although there is something wrong with you.
Thanks for the experience chaps...and a big thank you to Karen, Isabella and Anna for the sterling support.
Monday, 22 June 2009
Bits and Bobs
BARCELONA!!!!, Our number one fan makes a joke, The three amigos (and a surpirse appearance from Neil's boxer shorts), On top of the world with our mate Dave, Making it look easy. 
Friday, 19 June 2009
Odds & Sods # 1
Posing Dudes / Is that frickin Garmin not working again? / Paul moving 5 keys of Carb Powder's finest / René ordered some extra rolls
Thursday, 18 June 2009
Landscapes from Southern France
Landscapes from Middle France
Views from the road earlier in the trip: South of Tours; East of Limoges; and near Brive-la-Gaillarde .
They think its all over
Its no good; after 11 really positive and exciting days of adventure, extreme physical challenge, companionship and team endeavour I'm feeling slightly disoriented and have to vent some reflections about the trip so I can come back to down to earth move on.
Looking back over the last 11 days I am struck by a number of things; the enormous physical effort of cycling almost 1,000 miles and everyone's steely will and determination to succeed (even when the extremely bad weather conditions almost reduced grown men to tears and abandonment); the beautiful French countryside, villages and towns; the warmth, friendliness and generosity of the people we encountered; and last but by no means least the interesting and varied group of people that shared this journey and that I have come to know and like a great deal. These are, in no particular order, as follows:
Andy Dalton - meticulously planned the route and lead from the front; an inspiration to other 50 year old cyclists like me
Eric Oliphant - a generous man of many parts and a strong, methodical cyclist (one of the 50 Yr old plus brigade)
Mike Stueart - another generous, warm-hearted soul who dragged me up the Pyrennees for which I am eternally grateful
Pual Walsingham - respect; for a man that battled through a throat infection and a high temperature when it would have been easier to have given up and completed the journey in the support vehicle. Probably the most stylish cyclist of the group and fabulous in lycra. Hilarious and word perfect renditions of Clousseau sketches.
Shaun Neish - ox-like strength on a bike and a charming man off it. Technical wizard and the group IT man (the blog is all down to Shaun)
Mark Beardshaw - a great athlete and economic with his vocabulary. When he did speak his dry, laconic, dead-pan and understated delivery usually put me on the floor.
Will (power) Jones - awesome cyclist and the funniest man on two wheels. Will catch-phrased his way through the trip, none of which can be repeated here
Neil Bruce - An unorthodox but mightily effective cyclist with a wicked (and very funny) sense of humour and ravenous appetite. He even eats when he cycles - I remember struggling to keep up with him at one particular point and as I breathed hard and deep and pumped my legs I looked up and saw Neil reach into his pocket and pull out a handful of mixed nut and dried fruit and down it as nonchalantly as you like and without breaking his rhythm.
Miska (to my shame I don't know his surname) - By rights Miska shouldn't be able to cycle 1,000 miles beset as he is with serious joint problems. The fact that he did and usually from the front is a tribute to his guts and determination. Respect.
Karen, Isabelle and Anna - the support team. What can I say? Their selfless, kind and seemingly effortless practical support made the difference so many times on the trip its not patronising to say that we could not have done it without them. No question.
Thats your lot except to say that I really, really want to do this again and as soon as possible.
Who is up for a trip to Brighton on 28th June? Let me know.
Nigel
Looking back over the last 11 days I am struck by a number of things; the enormous physical effort of cycling almost 1,000 miles and everyone's steely will and determination to succeed (even when the extremely bad weather conditions almost reduced grown men to tears and abandonment); the beautiful French countryside, villages and towns; the warmth, friendliness and generosity of the people we encountered; and last but by no means least the interesting and varied group of people that shared this journey and that I have come to know and like a great deal. These are, in no particular order, as follows:
Andy Dalton - meticulously planned the route and lead from the front; an inspiration to other 50 year old cyclists like me
Eric Oliphant - a generous man of many parts and a strong, methodical cyclist (one of the 50 Yr old plus brigade)
Mike Stueart - another generous, warm-hearted soul who dragged me up the Pyrennees for which I am eternally grateful
Pual Walsingham - respect; for a man that battled through a throat infection and a high temperature when it would have been easier to have given up and completed the journey in the support vehicle. Probably the most stylish cyclist of the group and fabulous in lycra. Hilarious and word perfect renditions of Clousseau sketches.
Shaun Neish - ox-like strength on a bike and a charming man off it. Technical wizard and the group IT man (the blog is all down to Shaun)
Mark Beardshaw - a great athlete and economic with his vocabulary. When he did speak his dry, laconic, dead-pan and understated delivery usually put me on the floor.
Will (power) Jones - awesome cyclist and the funniest man on two wheels. Will catch-phrased his way through the trip, none of which can be repeated here
Neil Bruce - An unorthodox but mightily effective cyclist with a wicked (and very funny) sense of humour and ravenous appetite. He even eats when he cycles - I remember struggling to keep up with him at one particular point and as I breathed hard and deep and pumped my legs I looked up and saw Neil reach into his pocket and pull out a handful of mixed nut and dried fruit and down it as nonchalantly as you like and without breaking his rhythm.
Miska (to my shame I don't know his surname) - By rights Miska shouldn't be able to cycle 1,000 miles beset as he is with serious joint problems. The fact that he did and usually from the front is a tribute to his guts and determination. Respect.
Karen, Isabelle and Anna - the support team. What can I say? Their selfless, kind and seemingly effortless practical support made the difference so many times on the trip its not patronising to say that we could not have done it without them. No question.
Thats your lot except to say that I really, really want to do this again and as soon as possible.
Who is up for a trip to Brighton on 28th June? Let me know.
Nigel
Wednesday, 17 June 2009
Route Barrée (with or without Déviation)
Thanks all round
Now we have arrived I just wanted to post a quick note of thanks to everyone.
Firstly thanks to Karen, Isabel and Anna for mothering us all the way and making everything work. Without them none of this would have been possible.
Thanks also to all those of you who have generously sponsored us. Rest assured that the money has gone to a good cause and that we have suffered sorely to earn it.
Finally thanks to all the cyclists for being such a good team and putting up with me getting them lost in the cold and rain.
Firstly thanks to Karen, Isabel and Anna for mothering us all the way and making everything work. Without them none of this would have been possible.
Thanks also to all those of you who have generously sponsored us. Rest assured that the money has gone to a good cause and that we have suffered sorely to earn it.
Finally thanks to all the cyclists for being such a good team and putting up with me getting them lost in the cold and rain.
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
hemos llegado
Well we have arrived....
At last. It was a tough challenge, but the elation of having of having a cold grande beer on Barcelona beach makes it worth while. After a solid last day we finally made it to Barcelona beach welcomed by the mass of supporters, some of whom had flown all the way in from London just to be there.
The last day had nearly as much culmulative climbing at the previous day over the Pyrenees, but once again it was the le tour de saddle sore army 1, and France and/or Spain nil.
After a few well deserved beers, the crew seperated, some heading straight back to London on the train (even though they would have preferred to cycle) and the others staying in Barcelona living it up at the B hotel - which is obviously full of the A-team.
Photos are to follow but until then,
"It' s importante tener un extremo a viajar hacia, pero en el extremo el viaje es más importante"
At last. It was a tough challenge, but the elation of having of having a cold grande beer on Barcelona beach makes it worth while. After a solid last day we finally made it to Barcelona beach welcomed by the mass of supporters, some of whom had flown all the way in from London just to be there.
The last day had nearly as much culmulative climbing at the previous day over the Pyrenees, but once again it was the le tour de saddle sore army 1, and France and/or Spain nil.
After a few well deserved beers, the crew seperated, some heading straight back to London on the train (even though they would have preferred to cycle) and the others staying in Barcelona living it up at the B hotel - which is obviously full of the A-team.
Photos are to follow but until then,
"It' s importante tener un extremo a viajar hacia, pero en el extremo el viaje es más importante"
Monday, 15 June 2009
Bloodied but unbowed
Tools of the trade and the winner of the dirtiest shirt competition:
Despite a catalogue of aches, pains and injuries we all managed to conquer the Pyrennes and reach Spain.
Special mention should go to Mike who has carried an injured shoulder the whole way and Miska who has been nursing a pulled hamstring since day 5. Both have carried on through the pain. Most of us have sore knees and/or achilles tendons and have relied on a steady supply of painkillers to get us through.
First up the mountain was Shaun (although it has to be said that he had a head start on the favorites - Will and Mark). He is also winner of the dirtiest shirt contest and not unconnectedly the king of the art of falling of a bike:
Sunday, 14 June 2009
Day 7: From Lescargot (Nigel)
It was the best of times and it was the worst of times. What the dickens am I talking about? Read on.
Day 7 of the Le Tour was bathed in glorious sunshine and should have been a breeze but my right ankle was proving to be my achilles heel. In fact it was my achilles heel that was the problem - cycling with one leg and keeping up with the Jones' (Will) is not eactly a stroll in the valley (Lot, to be precise).
But enough of my relatively minor travails and more about the day. As we sped along the Lot Valley - precipitous and dramatic rock face to our immediate left (is that a grotto?) and the gleaning river Lot to our immediate right - I wondered why I had waited until my fifty-first year to attempt a cycling tour through France. Then I remember - my derrier is on fire, my thighs, er, are on fire and my right achilles is, well, you know.
Nevertheless, we covered 65 miles in double quick time, cutting through swathes of breathtaking, rolling scenery. Scenic beauty aside it was a reasonably uneventful day. Mark 'popped' an inner tube in dramatic fashion - it exploded and sounded like a gun going off. Unremarkable in itself, but given our brush with trigger happy French military a few days before, everyone automatically dived for cover. It was a bowel moving moment.
Oh, and the butterflies - lots of them, everywhere - they epitomised the spirit of freedom Le Tour represents. And then I choked on one - yeuk!
The day ended with a fine supper at Restaurant Lautrec -a culinary work of art (cheesy, true, but what do you expect from me?)
Bon Voyage
Day 7 of the Le Tour was bathed in glorious sunshine and should have been a breeze but my right ankle was proving to be my achilles heel. In fact it was my achilles heel that was the problem - cycling with one leg and keeping up with the Jones' (Will) is not eactly a stroll in the valley (Lot, to be precise).
But enough of my relatively minor travails and more about the day. As we sped along the Lot Valley - precipitous and dramatic rock face to our immediate left (is that a grotto?) and the gleaning river Lot to our immediate right - I wondered why I had waited until my fifty-first year to attempt a cycling tour through France. Then I remember - my derrier is on fire, my thighs, er, are on fire and my right achilles is, well, you know.
Nevertheless, we covered 65 miles in double quick time, cutting through swathes of breathtaking, rolling scenery. Scenic beauty aside it was a reasonably uneventful day. Mark 'popped' an inner tube in dramatic fashion - it exploded and sounded like a gun going off. Unremarkable in itself, but given our brush with trigger happy French military a few days before, everyone automatically dived for cover. It was a bowel moving moment.
Oh, and the butterflies - lots of them, everywhere - they epitomised the spirit of freedom Le Tour represents. And then I choked on one - yeuk!
The day ended with a fine supper at Restaurant Lautrec -a culinary work of art (cheesy, true, but what do you expect from me?)
Bon Voyage
Day 6
Having defrosted nicely from our cryogenic sleep, all the oldies looked remarkably healthy and we were all set to start off on at a steady pace, waved off by the lycra loving proprietors! Garmin had a slow start, leading us along a few dirt tracks and farm paths but helped by the brightening weather our spirits lifted and we headed through the beautiful countryside, on a trip that we had all imagined it would be – rolling hills, smooth roads and sunshine.
Arriving in Bouzies, crossing over the single lane bridge facing a cliff-face, we were all pleased to have post ride drinks by the swimming pool!
A group of cyclists refueling after a days ride can mean that nothing gets in their way. An offer of a 200 Euro taxi ride for our 4 mile trip was declined for the much safer and more intimate option of journeying to the restaurant in the hotel managers Renault clio – (who says you cant fit 8 people in a clio at once??). Having had dinner at a stunning town of St Cirque Lapopie followed by few games of pool at the hotel this was the trip we had all signed up for in December!
Daltache - In homage to our illustrious leader Mr D we have all tried to emulate his legendary tache.. Enjoy!!
The man himself!!!
Enrico d'Altori-tache
Salvador-dalt-tache
Dalt-stein-tacheensmeiser
Super-size-me-tache
Fin-tache-tic
Brow-tache
Derren Brown-tache
Can't-grow-a-Tache!
The pain of cycling. Part 1 – the handlebars.
Two types of entertainment are possible with the handlebars. You can go uphill, or downhill. Going along the flat doesn’t count for two reasons; firstly, there is no pain and secondly, we haven’t actually done any of this.
Uphill:
What could possibly hurt about cycling a bike uphill? Uphill means you either touch the bars with a feather, a la proper car driving, or you grip with your life, a la Miska. The latter is very effective: as a cocktail shaker all night in the bar; as an impromptu tumble dryer for those great synthetic shirts; as a surgeon’s delight for totally screwed up carpal tunnel syndrome. It is not recommended. So…uphill – those bits between the thumb and forefinger hurt like hell; all your fingers are stuck in an unmovable position for hours. Ask Miska.
Downhill
Downhill is far more entertainment than uphill. Uphill is optional and requires fear to implement. Downhill is compulsory. It is the “handlebar judder”. This isn’t a 1950’s rock’n’roll dance, this is real. Those silky French roads turn to concrete with lumps on as we hurtle down at 40+mph (yes we really do: OK, Lord W does and he has the speedo, so we all do, ok?). The tasteful reaction to this is that the palms go completely numb and fingers once again lock up nicely. So no chance of gripping a pint if the final run of the day ends with a big downhill (not that it ever does. Thanks to A Dalton copyright routes all destinations are guaranteed to be found at the top of Mount Everest’s little sister).
Uphill:
What could possibly hurt about cycling a bike uphill? Uphill means you either touch the bars with a feather, a la proper car driving, or you grip with your life, a la Miska. The latter is very effective: as a cocktail shaker all night in the bar; as an impromptu tumble dryer for those great synthetic shirts; as a surgeon’s delight for totally screwed up carpal tunnel syndrome. It is not recommended. So…uphill – those bits between the thumb and forefinger hurt like hell; all your fingers are stuck in an unmovable position for hours. Ask Miska.
Downhill
Downhill is far more entertainment than uphill. Uphill is optional and requires fear to implement. Downhill is compulsory. It is the “handlebar judder”. This isn’t a 1950’s rock’n’roll dance, this is real. Those silky French roads turn to concrete with lumps on as we hurtle down at 40+mph (yes we really do: OK, Lord W does and he has the speedo, so we all do, ok?). The tasteful reaction to this is that the palms go completely numb and fingers once again lock up nicely. So no chance of gripping a pint if the final run of the day ends with a big downhill (not that it ever does. Thanks to A Dalton copyright routes all destinations are guaranteed to be found at the top of Mount Everest’s little sister).
Day 5 – The tortoise and the hare
Having shown some great survival skills on the previous day, we decided to add a new dimension to the day’s challenges by segregating into two group’s; the fast and the not quite so fast group. For extra amusement (although we didn’t know it at the time), we were to also pitch the navigational skills of the flawed Garmin to the ESP like ability of Will leading the fast group.
The likes of Miska and Paul got a particularly raw deal as not only did they have to try and keep up with Will, Neil and Mark but for a good 5-miles we were actually all going in completely the wrong direction (Garmin 1: Will nil) the detour took us past a town called Blond (not sure what was on Wills mind?). After another 5-miles and a trip to intensive care for Paul and Miska we were back on track and still ahead of the slow group (sorry not so fast group)!
This turned out to even a greater challenge of a day as not only did we have the delightful combination of wind and rain, but 5500feet of climbing as well; needless to say, arrival at nearer 8.30pm was inevitable and at least one of the rooms appeared to have something resembling a cryogenic chamber for those who felt the trip had aged them another 10-years!!!! It has to be said that even in this atrocious weather, some of the villages were simply stunning; particularly Segur Au Chateaux, which didn’t appear to have changed since the middle ages – perhaps the source of the mystery of the cryogenic chamber??
Friday, 12 June 2009
The story so far, ...
To all of our avid followers (including Caitlain & Ewan), sorry that we have been unable to post each night but the stresses of cycling 90 miles a day (100 to some of those that can't map read) has meant that we have been pretty tired (well drinking by the pool, swimming and generally taking in the sun and great food and wine!!)
Well anyway its now day 7 and we've arrived in Albi, seems to be a very lovely town so far, but after 70 miles of cycling anything looks pretty appealing.
The day started pretty lazily as we only had 70 miles to go and the elevation profile from Bouzies to Albi was not to tough compared to the last few days. An easy flat road led to a nice little winding climb followed by the worst road in the world (Was it actually a road Mr D or had Garmin got us lost again??) "Will every one stop getting shot..." two loud expolsions on the apparent road had Mark do a couple of F1 speed tyre changes, putting him in number one spot for the blowout table.
After riding the rest of the day on perfect roads with rolling hills we were picking up the pace very well. We flew into Albi down 10% hill, Lord W taking the high speed record touching 47.3 mph with his tiny red lycra behind pointing to the sky in the perfect aero tuck position.
Enjoy the pics...more updates on previous days to come!
Special Moments
An unexpected challenge
getting 8 people in a Clio.
getting 8 people in a Clio.
No problem for Miska.
Best tan line so far:
Happiness is 3 cakes.
Or 2 bottles of wine.
Best tan line so far:
Happiness is 3 cakes.
Or 2 bottles of wine.
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