This mornings wake up sounds mirrored the ones I fell asleep to. The vin yard I was camped next to must of had a gazillion grasshoppers in, as it sounded like a wall of noise, just a constant humm where you could barley pick out a singular rattle.
It was a baking hot again and was 33C by 11:00am (it’s a tough life I know). With my mojo fully charged up to 100%, and a train to catch from Montpellier, I forced a rule upon myself, which was, no breaks until I got to the Mediterranean (something I gained from my experience of a chef, was rocking out in hot, hot heat without any breaks)
I managed to do the full 60kms or so with relative ease, as my legs had become accustomed to massive climbs, and today was quite flat (although I have to admit that passing Pirate Adventure Hydro park wasn’t easy)
At one point I looked back over my shoulder and saw that the mountains that I had sailed down yesterday, we’re now a faint outline of a scenic back drop.
I thought to myself that I was going to miss the Pyrènèes. Yeah sure, to begin with they were fuckimg me hard, but by the end we were making sweet, sweet love.
(There she was)
Back in the present, I had found myself a beauty of a town called Sèté. It was everything you’d expect from a Mediterranean beach town, scorching heat, glowing sandy beaches and some beautifully tanned people cruising round on roller skates.
I caught up with 4 young English Jefferies (boring whatever’s) who all still seemed a bit wet behind the ears. They seemed like nice enough guys, but just didn’t have anything of interest to say (perhaps they weren’t coping with the heat as well). So I left them behind and went in search of some food. I found a beach side restaurant serving up some bad boy moules frites and Skyped my buddy john again (he currently lives in South Korea, so when I’m lunching it up it’s usually pretty late there). We chatted again until I got kicked out (they probably done me a favour as I would have missed the train)
I pedalled the last 30km into Montpellier and I have to say that I was a bit ignorant and hadn’t heard much of the city at all. Now I’m aware of how special a place it is. It has beauty beyond belief and historical buildings that you can’t help admire. Hopefully I’ll return one day
The point of me catching the train to Gap was that I was despirite to see the pros of the peloton take on the most famous ascent in all of cycling, Alpe d’heuz at my current rate, my efforts wouldn’t gete there in time, and also is like to try it mysel,f (minus all the bags) and ideally I’d like to freshen up my legs for it.
When buying the ticket for a measly €62, (Branson and the boys could learn a thing or 2 from SNCF by the way) the woman behind the desk told me it was impossible for me to get there tonight by train as they didn’t allow bikes on the 1st train I’d be taking. I lied and said it folded down and she gave me a long stare(it was obvious it didn’t). I smiled at her for a bit and then she sold me the ticket.
Knowing that it was one stop before I had to change trains and that as soon as the train was moving, they couldn’t kick me off. I was playing it cool on the platform letting everyone else on in front of me. Waiting for the last possible moment I made for the doors. BOOOOM TING!!!! I was on and we were away. 10 minutes or so later. The conductor came along asking for tickets. He proceeded to give me a lecture on health and safety. Meanwhile I was putting on an apologetic performance which I very well think could be up for an Oscar nomination next year, all the while thinking to myself SUCK A DICK BUDDY!!!! IM ON HOLIDAY!!!!