Defeated by Ventoux

It all started with a phone call. We had forgotten to equip bikes with computers for a group of Australians who began a self-guided tour of Provence today. And so after a day at the office I set off to the foot of Mont Ventoux, an hour's drive from Avignon, where the group had arrived after their first day's ride. Our famed and unbeatable Road Book led them easily to their destination, despite missing their computers...

Feeling quite masochistic today, I decided to bring my bike along, and test my legs on the dreaded climb up Ventoux. Too far above my fighting weight, and not having trained for years, I still managed 50 minutes, at a whopping average of about 8km/h (yes, you can easily run faster than that -- or even power walk), and encouraged by the spray-painted encouragements of last year's Tour de France: "Last Chance Lance", or perhaps the giant spray-painted phallus, all before throwing in the towel -- and my entire body -- disgracefully upon a tuft of savoury (an herbe de Provence) on the side of the road.


With the evening sun hidden behind the clouds, the vines extend into the horizon...


Hey kids: don't try this at home...