Friday, September 06, 2013

TuxedoTour 2013

For many years I've enjoyed the occasional long weekend of very fine wines, excellent food, great hospitality and a little over-enthusiastic skiing with my chums, Roy, his astounding and supremely hospitable wife Elaine and my long term colleague and occasional excessive-tequila-buddy Richard. It became a bit of an annual fixture until, in an act of pure selfishness Roy and Elaine sold their lovely house in the Alps and decamped to another lovely house in Vence, about 30k north of the Cote d'Azur. 
So last year, Richard and I packed our bicycles and descended, our aim, to try and eat and drink them out of house and home (and do a bit of gentle cycling).


The cycling, on roads, (I like cycling in the woods) was a newish thing for me, it seemed (not unlike our skiing) to involve periods of frantic activity, discomfort and pain to move ourselves from one comfortable place to another, usually resulting in beer, wine, food, coffee or all four.

I couldn't help noticing though that, unlike skiing, everything seemed to be uphill. A fundamental flaw of the sport to my mind.

As we made ready to depart, exhausted but well cared for, someone, I'm not sure who (Richard!) suggested that on our next visit we cycle from France to Italy. Now I was aware that getting from France to Italy could easily involve a journey of a mere metre if planned correctly so I raised no objections, easy to look back in anger but, nevertheless, the Tuxedo Tour was born. 

If you'd like to see the edited highlights do please feel free to click on the beautiful red handlebars in the photo below.




If you're interested in statistics forget it, it was a ride, from Vence to SanRemo and back of about 180km, over a couple of days, we stayed in SanRemo in an agreeable hotel staffed by disagreeable people. With the notable exception of Chris, (by far the fittest and fleetest of us) the ladies were manning (womanning) the support vehicles, support, hah! we never saw them. 

It will come as no surprise to my legions of supporters that I was slow, oh so very,very slow but I survived, got up everything, and now have a brace of Corniches and a La Turbie under my substantial belt.

It was a delightful four days of friends, fun and frolics only slightly compromised by the dolorous trudging up spectacular mountains in the baking sun by four fine cyclists and me.

I think I might take them rock climbing next year...





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