This year the plan was for Paul to join us in Massat where he has a property.
Well, as so often happens, the best laid plans of mice and men get screwed up, and the alternator (whatever that is) gave up the ghost.
Anyway, via complicated and convoluted arrangements, we got there eventually an all stayed at the Hotel Maxil in Massat. And the mountain came to Mahommed, meaning that the cyclists came right past the hotel beer garden, which was very convenient.
|Lynne waiting to fight the French kid for the samples thrown out by vehicles in the Tour de France caravan.|
|Despite a succession of late nights and hangovers, Paul insisted on some commando training in the Pyrenees.|