Yesterday in gale force winds we cycled aside vast juggernauts on our way back to Arles, but tant pis, we had done just short of 400k and were almost past caring, and our tanned and sculpted legs weren't about to let us down this late in the day. Pistons of power.
Last night provided a wonderful but modestly priced supper, marred only by the fact that the man at the next table collapsed and had to be attended to by ambulance, causing a most irritating draught at our table as he and his concerned relatives went in and out of the restaurant like they owned the place. He recovered and, to our surprise, finished his food.
Back to the hotel for a few games of pool accompanied by whisky poured by a teenage bar tender who thought a measure was the same as a large glass of wine. This bonus was offset by a car being set alight outside the hotel overnight and Provencal youths pelting James's shutters with rocks at 3am.
We abandoned the sharing rooms strategy after a couple of harmless incidents on Saturday night. This allowed the other two some well earned sleep whilst James took the brunt of the 'Provence Spring of 2012'.
Now the airport and back home, still geezers, still a bit fat, but feeling much better for these last great seven days.
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