MALCOLM’S IMPRESSIONS OF THE ETAPE

Concentrating so hard on riding in a bunch I failed to realise we had been alongside mountains for about 15 minutes, glancing up and thinking bloody hell that's fantastic, (I have never been near a real mountain in my life before) and a nano second later bloody hell I've got to go up 'em. An amazing feeling.


The kids by the roadside holding hands out for high fives. The sheer volume of people giving support even for the back enders like me and the fantastic encouragement they gave to us on those interminable last kilometers of Baragui.


The amazing lady, who grunted, gasped, weaved, wretched and groveled but rode up Baragui without stopping.


The oddly relaxing sound of cowbells on the cows up Soudet.


Looking down over my right shoulder on the hairpin ascents to see all those still behind then up and left at all those in front and then the line of tiny, tiny cars somewhere in the distant red hazy mist.


The timekeeper lady who inspired me to make 7k in twelve minutes (very fast for me!) after punture number two by telling me she didn't think I'd make elimination zone 1 in time. I was so intent on doing it I didn't even see my family on the bend as I went through. Mind you I suffered for it up Baragui.


The descents. What can I say, I amazed myself by the speed I went down (shame the computer was broken) sheer, absolute exhilaration and not the least scary, fantastic fun.


The scenery. As I said above never been in mountains before and I was astounded by it all. It didn't take my breath away though - there wasn't any left to take.


The gasped conversation in French with the elderly French gentleman about Joan of Arc (don't ask) going up Baragui (the bottom bit).


The completely blown chap within 2k of the top of Baragui packing and his companion desperately trying to inspire him to continue it was so near, ("You CAN do this thing, We can walk, recover a bit, you’ve beaten the worst.) I got the impression it was father and daughter.


The TARDIS effect - how can eight and a half hours riding seem to take about 20 minutes.


The best thing - as I muttered, cursed, stomped and raged at the "eliminators of St Jean" the very first words from my wife were "where is it next year and when can you apply?"