Sunday 19.05.2019
Last night as I meandered into sleep, I constructed the perfect sentence to begin this most recent blog which I hope will take us from Northern Portugal to its border with Spain in the South. This morning, however, the perfect sentence has misted away so I begin as usual.
It was a relief to finally drive away from home, not that we don't love home just that after several days of sourcing, choosing and packing those items we consider essential, actually hitting the road is balm to the soul.
Normally, we would have expected the weather to improve as we drove South but not today. Cloud thickened and the time we reached Bordeaux skies were a grey cloak of weeping drizzle. Drizzle turned to rain and rain to a downpour of biblical proportions. Not to be outdone, the wind had risen to storm force whipping the sea into a frenzy only marginally quieter than the French equivalent of the red arrows which flew directly overhead emitting red, white and blue smoke. What a welcome! A flypast no less.
So, we are in the place where it all began, St Jean de Luz, where we dipped our toes in the sea prior to departing our ride along the Pyrenees. Much has happened since then, not least the addition of several years to our ages and a number of long rides. (Now getting shorter and certainly slower)
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