The long journey home.

We now had further to travel back but we were going to do it slower. As well as driving more slowly, we were going to take several days. We booked into a hotel in Bourges which is just about in the middle of France and arrived there on Tuesday afternoon. We travelled over the Massif Central so had the thrill of travelling over the bridge in the sky, otherwise known as the Millau Viaduct, what an impressive structure. Bourges had distinctive cathedral but other than that was somewhat disappointing, but we were only staying overnight. Our next stop, Wednesday night, which we had booked before leaving England, was in Paris, near the Montparnasse Tower, from where you can get the best view of Paris - needless to say, we did not go up. But we did go on the Metro, into the city, to Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower and walked along the Seine. In the evening we had a typically French meal at a restaurant near the hotel, Le 14 Juillet, the name of the restaurant, not the hotel. The next day we had a leisurely drive to Calais, where we took an earlier ferry than the evening one we had booked. The worst part of the journey back was the Dartford Tunnel and the worst part of the journey out was the Dartford Crossing.

We managed to get to the Med!

We headed south-east for about 150 miles, passing the towns of Albi and Castres, to L'Herault region of southern France, again taking its name from a river flowing through it. We stopped for lunch at a nice little town called St Pons de Thomiere in the market place where the staff had to criss-cross a busy road to serve the tables from a bar across the street. When we arrived at Neffies where Sheila and David live, the temperature was 38 in the shade. They have a truly beautiful house and garden and swimming pool, which it didn't take long for us to get into, where we were promptly served with bubbly. We were wined and dined throughout our three day stay, and taken to some beautiful spots - a French market at St Chinian and the Noilly Prat centre at Marseillan on the Med. On the left you can see the view overlooking Neffies and on the right you can see me looking out to the Med.

Back from France

We arrived back last Thursday evening, very tired, after a long journey from the south of France. The holiday had been packed with wonderful experiences and over indulgences. The first week we spent in the Aveyron region - a region not very well known to English tourists but every bit as interesting as the better known Loire and Dordogne regions further north. Like the other two, the region takes its name from the river which flows through it, in this case L'Aveyron - one of its tributaries Le Viaur, which is very beautiful as well, was the scene of two enjoyable excursions. Our gite, Les Aleis, was near the small village of La Foulliade, and shared its name with the farm up the road, where we mistakenly went first. The journey down was a bit of a marathon or maybe ironman even. 1300 kilometres or 900 miles is a long way in one go. There were punctuations along the way, thankfully no punctures, after 300 miles roughly, the crossing from Dover-Calais, after another 300 a one hour lay-by stop and then 300 miles to our destination. We did stop for fuel just outside Dover and a meal close to our destination and then more fuel and provisions before finally arriving, but the rest was travelling. We left Leeds at 5.30 Friday afternoon and arrived at La Fouillade at 4.00 Saturday afternoon. My usual leisurely pace of travelling had to be suspended for the duration of the journey as I was following Lewis Hamilton, no it was Jonny, who had the Sat Nav. It was particularly tricky around Paris. We arrived in one piece. For seven days we enjoyed the delights of the local area with Jonny, Ruth and the kids. The weather started ok and got better daily and by the end it was in the high thirties. The kids had lots to amuse them at the gite, swimming pool, trampoline, table tennis, hammock, swings, play house and Timmy the cat - and they enjoyed going to the river to swim and play. Ruth and Jonny had fun too. You can get a flavour of the region from the picture of mum on our visit to Villefranche, the major town of the region, on the pedestrian bridge across L'Aveyron river. As the temperature rose towards the end of the week, we left Jonny, Ruth and the kids to head further south, to spend a few days with David and Sheila Covell. More about that in the next blog.

We're Going on Holiday

Late this afternoon, we will be setting off for France - ferry from Dover at 12.10 a.m.
- then a long drive down to near Toulouse. We are spending the first week with Jonny and Ruth and the kids, and then heading off further south to stay with David and Sheila(James' mum). When we leave them we will be heading north in stages - we have booked one night in Paris on 25th August. Our ferry back is on Thursday 26th, so we should be back in Leeds late that night.

A New Cyclist

If you read Alex's blog below, you will see that he has found a sudden liking for cycling. It started with him going for short rides on his own, increasing the distance day by day, until eventually he was able to go to Aberford and back without stopping. I offered to go with him, an offer he gladly accepted. We went to Towton and back via Saxton, about 20 miles in distance. I have to say I was very impressed with his determination and level of fitness. The next day we had intended to increase the distance to 25 miles by going round by Church Fenton, but a suggested detour to Ryther was agreed, increasing the distance to in the region of 30 miles. Today we went to Selby, 42 miles, and included a cafe stop. Definitely a new cyclist in the family and one with much potential. We'll have to watch him.

One more Iron Man

Yesterday was a long but memorable day for Jonny which several of our family were privileged to witness and share - Becky, James, Alex, Mum and me, and, of course, Ruth, Holly and Henry. The location was the National Watersport Centre, Nottingham, and the surrounding area, the event the Outlaw Iron Man Triathlon - 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, 26.2 mile run, and the weather was good. It was an early start for the spectators, we left Leeds at 8 a.m. but even earlier for the competitors who entered the water at 6 a.m. We managed to get a glimpse of Jonny as he hurtled past on his bike at around 10.30 a.m. and despite valiant attempts to get to see him again on the road, the next time we saw him was during the marathon when he ran past us on the waterside at about 4 p.m. He passed once more before eventually finishing at 5.48 p.m. His overall time, therefore, was 11 hours 48 minutes - and this despite having to stop to mend a puncture by the roadside which cost him around 20 minutes - a fantastic achievement and a very proud time for us all. It was great to see him run across the finish line with Holly and Henry.

Where's my blog?

As I have already written on this blog and it is no where to be seen, I am doing a Becky and making sure it works before I spend too much time writing on this blog.

Mike's new supporter

Last night Mike had a new supporter who went to see him play football for the first time. She didn't see any of the game as she was asleep in the pushchair being pushed by her Grandad and stirred only briefly to indicate that Grandad had been standing too long and should be walking up and down the touchline. Perhaps it was well that she slept as Bardsey were losing 1 - 0 when we arrived and 1 - 0 when it finished. It was very convenient though as the game, a home friendly fixture for Bardsey, was being played at Barnbow.

Isn't life great!!!

This is just a test to make sure it works before I spend my precious time writing my first blog (only to find that it hasn't worked) xxx

Re-cycling

As an addendum to the most recent post, it is interesting to see the sudden resurgence of cycling in the family. First this year was Mike, who on his birthday asked me to take him for a ride, as a result of which he acquired a keen desire to do more. Such was his eagerness that he bought shoes and pedals to add to my old bike, the Felt, which has now been ridden by some many people - Mum, Steve Kirton, Jonny - and now Mike. We adjusted the seat and added accessories so he could ride independently, though in truth, the bike is probably a size too big for him. This initial enthusiasm saw Mike joining our group for riding, even evening riding and the prospect of him buying his own bike; but, no sooner had he got properly started the football season has come round again - matches on Saturdays and Sundays, training midweek - so soon from enthusiastic cyclist to non cyclist. In the meantime, as the previous blog indicates, Alex showed interest in the old black Felt. So we adjusted the saddle higher and replaced Mike's clipless pedals with Mum's old flat pedals and, with the accessories already in place, he was away, though in truth, the bike is probably a size too small for him. The previous Sunday we were out with Billy and Sue with some of their friends. Cycling came into the conversation as Billy had just been for an off-road ride with his friend. This friend also has a road bike, so Billy asked if I still had the bike I said he could borrow? High demand indeed - first come, first served?
Talking about bikes, Mum and I had a lovely weekend with Becky and James - he has a bike in the front room, so cycling is always in mind when you are in their house. They prepared a beautiful meal on Saturday night and took us for lunch on Sunday. There were a couple of coffee stops as well. We even got chance to go to Royle's - cycle shop. When we left we said our goodbyes to Becky at the front door and to James as we passed him cycling down the road.

Giving Something New A Go

Well, for me it's not really something new it is more like a chance to start again with an old hobbie that I loved at the age of seven, but lost my confidence with in the hills of the lake district. It is, of course, cycling. For years I have watched the Tour de France and enjoyed the suspence of sprint finishes, crashes and mountain climbs along with many other aspects of cycling that keeps me fixed to the screen. I do enjoy the fact that it is not as simple as it looks. A person, who knows very little about road cycling, would think the more races you win, the more likely you are to win the Tour de France. WRONG! It surprises people that Mark Cavendish won five Tour de France stages and wasn't even in the top 100, while Alberto Contador won no races but won the Tour de France. The answer for this isn't complicated, it is basically that Contador is more consistent than Cavendish and that he is a lot better than him in the mountains, where the tour is won or lost. I know this description of an aspect of the Tour de France has little to do with my first sentence, the reason for me losing track of the point of this paragraph is basically due to the fact I am trying to emphasise how I have rediscovered cycling and why I am giving it another chance. I have enjoyed for three years(I think) watching the Tour de France and after enjoying learning more about this sport, I feel it is time that I take it up again. It is a simple sport, which is not simple at the same time. It is simple in terms of learning how to ride a bike and it is a simple pleasure, the views you see on the Tour de France and in the British countryside are best enjoyed on a bike. It is not simple in terms of how a bike is put together. After watching a documentary on Tuesday night about a man (whose name I have forgotten) who went around the world to gain the components to make his perfect bike. It is remarkable the history of the bike. It shows the obstacles it had to overcome to become the basic two wheel mechanism which was easy and popular to ride at the same, even to this day we are still trying to improve it, so that we can find it less of hassle and more of a delight to ride. I only use the word hassle after seeing the old designs of bikes in its early days.
I'm losing track of thought again and I will come back to the original point of this text. This week I have been out on one of dad's old bikes three times. Initially, I felt quite anxious. I share dad's dislike of going downhill, I never feel in complete control when doing so, however I never felt that I was going to fall. After a few hiccups, it became easier and I have to say I enjoy it greatly. It's a hobbie everyone should take part in really, it gets us to places quicker and it get us fit. Nothing to complain about really. I am not as good as dad, but after a while I will be. The only regret I have is not restarting earlier, but it can be hard to get back into something when you had a bad experience with it. That is basically all I have to say really. I must warn I have not prove read this yet, so if there are any mistakes involving grammar or spelling, I apologise. cnewnrcfiuewofnoeri kdjcn kswdmwioe ckiem dsfas s. Thanks for taking the time to listen to what I have to say. I know I'm not very interesting but I know this paragraph is more interesting than dad talking about dough. Goodbye.