Sitting with a well eating cuppa reflecting on our day. We did it and achieved a dream! Our day didn’t get off to a great start. Those of you who know France will know that most shops Don’t open on a Sunday so we were light on provisions so fortified with black tea and porridge made with water we were off! A light pedal into the village to get the legs working and straight into the climb with the 22 hairpin bends. I decided to keep to steady rhythm so my young bucks went on ahead. The old bloke carried the padlock and the cake (made by Daisy)!!!

Surprisingly I overtook a fair number of youngsters peddling up. Round and round went the crankshaft down cascaded the sweat in buckets. Soon saw the village below reduced to model village. Now the thrusting young bucks started to overtake. Onward and upward the minutes ticked away and I would like to say I was eating up the miles. For those of you who know Frocester Hill at home it is about a mile to the top. Already I had covered about 7 or so miles when I saw the village high above. Some people were stopping for a drink or a rest but this old boy kept grinding away. As I approached 10 miles the village was almost there,sadly it was a mirage almost another mile before I raised my arms aloft just like a tour stage win! After handshakes photos we went onto the col de Sarenne at 2000 metres and this bit was hard and slow! Grind no it was slower than a grind! Then we started the descent which was terrifying especially with the drop at side. Not sure if I have felt so scared on a bike. Touched 40 mph but brakes were used a lot! Even managed to puncture on a level bit no team car or mechanic to help! A lovely ride back through breathtaking scenery. Body needs seeing to no blonde Swedish masseur in sight so better have a beer instead!

Feel right chuffed as my mum would say. Still life in the old dog! More adventures tomorrow! Forgot to mention there was a cuckoo singing at the top of the col De Sarenne. Not sure who is more cuckoo me or that bird singing so high up.