The journey took us to curious mixof hotels from the functional to the decidedly odd. At Massat at the end of the3rd day we were at Hotel les Trois Seigneures. We were told we were lucky to have a room in the main hotel rather than the annex. To be fair the room was large but, the hotel had something of a gothic flavour where the lobbies were filled with large china faced dolls, all in elaborate Victorian costume. In the dining hall there were a number of stuff animals. That they served coffee from huge yellow tea pots only added to this Alice in Wonderland feel.
Over dinner the next night I was reflecting on this with Steve the anaesthetist. Steve was a strong rider but with a touch of the Huge Laurie about him and a nice way with stories. I shared my guilty pleasure following the twitter feed @craptaxidermy. Steve was a long way ahead of me.
'I have a friend who's hobby is collecting animal skulls.' What a line to either make or kill a conversastion. 'What like fossils.'
'No, animals an birds he find by the road. He carries plastic bags and a hatchet in his car just in case and buries the heads in his garden for six months so they get picked clear.' Nervously I enquired whether this friend was in the medical profession. 'Oh no he works in construction.' Again I presume this man would be unfamiliar with the caress of woman. 'He's married with two kids.' Oh lordy. But worse was to come. This man took his kids to one of the Thames islands to camp. They decided to kill a good to eat. Now if you have ever met a goose in the flesh.... Apparently they got hold of some unfortunate bird but then could not make it die, not for want of trying just they couldn't make it happen. The amount of noise and fighting that must of gone on is too terrifying to consider.
Steve the anaesthetist chilling with his mate Tim (not the skull collector)
Simon - checking his colour coordination.
Simon, the cycling hairdresser belongs to a small demography, cycling, vegetarian, non drinking Iggy pop and Lou Reed fans. He is a man who likes his Bianchi whether or not it a practical choice. The kind of guy in a group of relative stranger who is guaranteed to keep the conversation rolling. Mike from somewhere in the Northwest observed that Simon was the only rider who when up hill as fast as he went down. This seemed to tickle Simon no end. Mike is one of the good guys in the world . Gentle, modest, despite being one of the stronger riders was generous with his praise. As a hobby in England he coaches young athletes, some who don't really have much in the way of parental support. Talking about one runner he commented 'It was just me there going bananas' as his rider pulled off a PB. He noted with some sadness that as a coach if you get somebody good there are going to get taken from you. 'They will have expectatons now, if next hear its not happening then I am not going to keep hold of them.'
Over dinner the next night I was reflecting on this with Steve the anaesthetist. Steve was a strong rider but with a touch of the Huge Laurie about him and a nice way with stories. I shared my guilty pleasure following the twitter feed @craptaxidermy. Steve was a long way ahead of me.
'I have a friend who's hobby is collecting animal skulls.' What a line to either make or kill a conversastion. 'What like fossils.'
'No, animals an birds he find by the road. He carries plastic bags and a hatchet in his car just in case and buries the heads in his garden for six months so they get picked clear.' Nervously I enquired whether this friend was in the medical profession. 'Oh no he works in construction.' Again I presume this man would be unfamiliar with the caress of woman. 'He's married with two kids.' Oh lordy. But worse was to come. This man took his kids to one of the Thames islands to camp. They decided to kill a good to eat. Now if you have ever met a goose in the flesh.... Apparently they got hold of some unfortunate bird but then could not make it die, not for want of trying just they couldn't make it happen. The amount of noise and fighting that must of gone on is too terrifying to consider.
Simon, the cycling hairdresser belongs to a small demography, cycling, vegetarian, non drinking Iggy pop and Lou Reed fans. He is a man who likes his Bianchi whether or not it a practical choice. The kind of guy in a group of relative stranger who is guaranteed to keep the conversation rolling. Mike from somewhere in the Northwest observed that Simon was the only rider who when up hill as fast as he went down. This seemed to tickle Simon no end. Mike is one of the good guys in the world . Gentle, modest, despite being one of the stronger riders was generous with his praise. As a hobby in England he coaches young athletes, some who don't really have much in the way of parental support. Talking about one runner he commented 'It was just me there going bananas' as his rider pulled off a PB. He noted with some sadness that as a coach if you get somebody good there are going to get taken from you. 'They will have expectatons now, if next hear its not happening then I am not going to keep hold of them.'
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