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
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment