Normal service is resumed

After a brief excursion back to the UK for a funeral, Mr M returned to the Pyrenees. He's cast his eye over the blog, and approved the contents therein as being vaguely accurate. You'll have to wait for his return to these shores to hear all the nitty gritty technical details though.

We're beginning to get used to getting excited text updates from all sorts of weird places. Such as the one on Saturday. It's just as well I switched on my phone after he sent me the one about his successful go at the notorious Mt Ventoux. Even I knew about Tommy Simpson and others who'd come to grief there.



The beloved did have some hairy moments with the weather in this region. He first texted me from a bar where he was waiting for a storm to pass over before attempting the ascent; reckoning that once above the treeline he'd be a sitting target for being turned into a human rissole. Luckily after fifteen minutes or so it passed over. The same's held on other occasions since, and he reckons he's getting more expert on judging the conditions and when and when not to move on.

Hairiness apart, there've been some cheesy moments. Like the other evening when Mr M phoned me from a gay bar (he only discovered this after the event! - he was trying to find somewhere to watch the football from) to tell me one of his flip- flops had fallen out of his panniers, and not fancying cycling back 20 miles up a hill to rescue it, and cycling shoes for evening wear (makes him look like Blackadder One without the codpiece)not being a practical option, he decided to fake an ingrowing toenail. So he spent the time sitting with a flip flop on his left foot and a sock on his right. He's since, thankfully bought another pair. ( J'ai perdu mon 'flip' Avez-vous un 'flop,' s'il vous plait?

And yesterday I picked up a text informing us that the 'flip' wasn't the only thing to drop out of his panniers. Somewhere, at a crossroads deep in the South of France, lies a pair of lightweight Rohan underpants. As Mr M says, the antibacterial lining in his remaining two pairs is going to be well and truly put to the test!

I think we're all agreed that this verges on Too Much Information...

Oh, and the latest. His back wheel broke. And on stopping at a tiny village on the offical tour route, he discovered that the inhabitants seemed to have no notion whatsoever of who was going to be passing through in a few weeks time.