RRtY
-
ten
The bow ramp clangs onto the slipway, or maybe the stern, it’s difficult to tell with the symmetry of the ferry, depositing me behind the Seine. Vanishing points strobe in the sunshine, a zoetrope flicker, rows of netted fruit trees pulling my eyes back to the river and the silver-white rock walls swathed in woodland…
-
nine
Swallows and martins angle and glide overhead on the causse, moss slowly smothers crumbling chalk walls. The sacred city cascades down cliffs. I slip into the other canyon, the one behind where the l’Ouysse river appears from under the limestone. Skim the edge of the Dordogne, the road wedged up against leaning rock walls. Across…
-
eight
Hop off the tram next to where the shiny brightly coloured logo splattered buses are parked up. Fans milling about as mechanics fettle. Expensive carbon fibre and fancy paint jobs reflect in windscreens. Accreditation badges hang round necks, television cameras sit on shoulders, microphones clutched in hands. Lotte Kopecky chats to a television crew before…
-
seven
Intersecting lines, motorway overhead, railway below. Signs point to places in a different country. Bus stops, metro stations, tram lines. Severe concrete outskirts, roundabouts and conflicting angles, stripes and chequerboards painted on tarmac, kebab shops and tattoo parlours, chain hotels and car dealerships, fast food and deserted offices. Torn edges, scruffy urban collage, new parts…
-
five
The Avenue Verte sparkles and crunches. Immediately retreat to the main road where hopefully it’s just damp and not frozen but fear lingers. Straight line every slight bend, dare not touch the brakes. Pockets of even colder air, frozen slush crusted in the verges, shattered ice cubes in gutters. Tempted by a PMU bar shining…
-
four
The weather changed direction this last week, coldness drifting in from the east, the forecast a couple of days ago even threatened snow flurries. At least the wind has weakened. The sea has been smashing the beach at home for weeks and last month’s ferry crossing was quite rough. Deciding to do all the Randonneur…
-
one
Land and sky are close to indistinguishable. My light wedges a cone of visibility into the darkness in front of me, the surrounding world muted. It’s not night but nor is it yet day. It will be a few hours before sunlight will breach the eastern horizon. A smattering of stars sparkle in the silence…
-
James Bond and cheap Jelly Babies
The rising sun gently lifts mist from the frosted hinterlands, the angular shapes of Arundel Castle stand out against the hill curving through the clear sky. I’m on an early train to Chichester for February’s ‘Randonneur Round the Year’ attempt: Buck Barn Sutton Scotney 200. It’s a week later than planned, thanks to storms Eunice…
-
That didn’t go to plan
Pull my phone from gilet pocket and tap WhatsApp. Aborted. Legs and head both gone. Heading back to Dieppe, should be there by 1pm. Three course lunch and beers? Hit send. Put phone back in pocket. Turn around and roll back down the hill. Not even half way up the climb from Grandcourt towards Blangy-sur-Bresle…
the man from icon 