PROVENCE

Yesss!!!!! I did it!

White Horse Hill in 10 minutes? End-to-End? 200k Audax? Mont Ventoux? None of these, we're talking BIG here. Something no-one else seemed to have attempted when I asked around for advice, I didn't want to be a pioneer.but yes, I did take my bike on the London Underground! Got off the train at Paddington only to find that the promised lift to the Circle Line was out of action so humped the laden bike down the stairs, waited ages for the Tube and a friendly passenger pulled the bike forward out of range of the closing doors when a train finally arrived. At Bayswater a young man offered to help me off, delighted as I would have been to get off with him I had to decline as I was going on to Embankment. No sign of the promised lift here either so humped the bike again and caught a train to Gravesend where I found another Provence-bound cyclist waiting for the Bike Bus. Arrived at Orange at about 6:30a.m. and set off for Orpierre 60 miles and the Col de Perty away which, together with the temperature higher than is usual for June, combined to make me wonder if I was up to an unsupported moving on tour. Over dinner that evening the talk was not of the rigours of the day but of what was happening in Ambridge. Travelling east nearly got a real snakebite puncture when we had to brake and swerve to avoid a snake pursuing a bright green lizard across the road. On to Hotel du Cheval Blanc in Barcelonette where Monseiur spent all day in his kitchen preparing huge meals for us and Madame was as likely as not to dance around the tables at breakfast. We tackled the Col de la Cayolle where I was lucky enough, and going slowly enough, to see marmots playing, marmots sentinel on rocks and marmots running across the road. Next day the A team set off for Cime de la Bonnet while I made for the Italian border via Col de Larche only to find the pass closed because of falling rocks so tried for Col de Vars only to find a queue of about 50 waiting vehicles and as I didn't fancy their company through the tunnel that left Ste. Anne but, with a steepening gradient, 2.5k from the top I decided to call it a day of thwarted ambition and turned back. Left Barcelonette to go over the Col d'Allos where I learned a little more French. "Quelle courage!" called out an overtaking cyclist on his lean machine as I moved forward almost imperceptibly in granny gears on my laden bike. A rest day found some of us cycling to Castellane where desperate measures were taken to escape the heat, I have to confess four intrepid cyclists hired a pedaloe. The two of us lounging at the back were cool and relaxed but I'm not sure about the pair in front who were us around. Travelling westwards through the magnificent Canyon du Verdon with views of Lac de Ste Croix most of us took the northerly route while our two strongest riders tackled the road to the south. We negotiated the traffic in a very busy Manosque to climb yet another col, Col de la Mort d'Imbert which we did without incident then, at the summit, our leader fell and grazed her leg while picking apricots, Sheila wasn't riding her bike at the time. About Mont Ventoux... we had all hoped to give it a go but there was the Bike Bus to catch 60 miles away, the hotel staff weren't prepared to unlock the doors early let alone put on an early breakfast so taking the heat into account Sheila ruled that only John and Nigel (who had taken the southern road through the Canyon du Verdon) were capable of taking in Ventoux comfortably so, once again, the honour of the Tour was in their hands. The rest of us had the consolation of a very enjoyable ride through the Gorges de la Nesque... Coming home I cycled from Charing Cross to Paddington, it was quicker than taking the Tube. Eve Thornton