There comes a time when all you want to do it sit down with out any discomfort. After seven days in the saddle my backside is badly beaten and could well never recover. Sitting on the bike involves several stages of the day. Initially, after applying a generous coating of chamois cream, one shifts about and quickly finds some degree of comfort. Halfway through the day is reapplication time, where one desperately tries to massage the life back in to one’s sore nethers. As the long afternoon passes, one moves from one buttock to the other, or randomly one stands, in a vain effort to recover blood flow. Finally, on reaching camp, like some lycra covered baby one applies Sudocrem and hopes for relief.
The countryside has been whizzing by and it’s tricky at times to appreciate the sites. My Garmin seems to have a mind of its own and routes use through all sorts of alternative points of interest. Yesterday, we had farm tracks, forest trails, a play-park and finally an old people’s home. The look on their faces, as whilst enjoying an afternoon on the veranda, they were descended upon by two sweaty cyclists neither having a clue which way to go. As Den was leading, I did think he was maybe going to leave me there. Happy in the knowledge that my later life needs would be catered for. Anyway, we’re pushing on and should be well south of Lyon by tonight. All by just the power of my 50 year old bandy legs!!!