Pregled posta

Marketing

As we stood in a Boulangerie at lunch time this morning, I found myself faintly worried. Worried that we were taking the long way round, worried that we were in the mountains, and worried that it was lunch time and I still hadn't seen or thought of something worth blogging about. At that point though a woman with a moustache walked in, her pet ferret trailing on a lead behind her, and I knew that at least one of my problems had been solved. I don't know where she got the customised ferret harness, or even if the animal, preoccupied in rolling around on the polished floor, was allowed in the shop. I think there's a serious loop hole there though. When was the last time you saw a shop with a 'no animals' sign? Sure, there are plenty of 'no dogs allowed' warnings, but in defence of my ferret, Mr security guard, your sign said no dogs except for guide dogs, and I assure you that my pet is neither.

Today's picture, as you can see, is not the promised Viaduct du Millau, but not because we couldn't find it. The bridge was so magnificent in it's near two and a half kilometer span that it was impossible to get a decent photo of it without a telescopic lense and a helicopter. I'll post the photos I did get when I have the chance, but if you're that interested just google it. In a previous version of today's post, I instead spoke for a whole paragraph about how amazing the 36000 tonne road was, or how the tallest of the seven pillars is almost higher than the Eiffel tower, but the phone crashed and the blog was lost. At the same time I spilt wine all over the map, burnt myself on the cooker and was swarmed by blood thirsty insects. The god of comic timing is watching me today, laughing. Or just bad luck. A woman tried to sell me a ticket for a competition today, where I stood to win a television. I declined, partly because I hate television, partly because I don't live in France, but mainly because I don't trust my luck. She gave up on the competition idea and we stood beside a shop studying watches in the window together instead. I'm uncertain about luck, but surreal moments follow me closely, and I enjoy their company.
Dad and I bought a new, more powerful stove today too, because although the old one is in perfect working condition, the canisters it uses are nowhere to be found this side of the channel. A terrible reason to buy a new stove, we know, but without our own cooking equipment, eating is very expensive.
I'd like to tell you the name of the valley town we're camped in, with vertical rocky faces scaling both sides, but i've forgotten it, and the map is on the drying line dripping local wine, so i'll tell you instead that we managed 106km today and are very pleased with that distance. There were more hills today then yesterday, including, after the long climb, an exciting, curving descent through the forests that must have been almost 10km of freewheeling that I won't forget. And as we rode under the Viaduct today, the road dropped into an unexpectedly steep descent, and to my astonishment (Mum, love you, but skip to the end of this paragraph) I broke my speed record, previously set on Evelix down a hill into Cheltnam on route to lands end. Although the steering is sensitive, the weight gives the bike good stability and control, and it never feels anywhere near as fast as it is. Evelix reached 67.5 km/h [or 42.2 mph if you like] today, and refused outright to go faster [the previous top speed had been 66.7]. I'm delighted though; I didn't think i'd ever find such a hill again.

Anyway, this is about the go to print, so I just want to wrap with this thought. To those not in the loop, and i'd imagine they are few indeed, mpg, or miles per gallon, is essentially a measure of fuel usage/efficiency used on motorised transport. But I wonder if it could be transposed to us, on our bikes, to compare our fuel to distance ratio with, for example, a BMW X5. And I see no reason why not. If you blended all our food and water and snacks for a day together and measured the volume in gallons, then how far we could ride before we need to eat again, you'd get a number comparable to what car I wonder? Are we more efficient then a Honda Hybrid engine, or do we guzzle more gas they a Hummer? If you've got the time (or you're Emily Tann) then please do the math for us and comment below. I'd love to know. You can assume we drink four half litre bottles a day, with a few french breads and a generous amount of pasta and can ride perhaps 130km on a 'full tank', though we're seldom motivated to do so.

Big love

3 shot HDR of a handle on a motorized bike.