At first glance the area of the Pyrenees looks somewhat poorer than that in eastern France, and thus, more primitive, as well.
The French Cycling Holidays van sitting next to the hotel entrance which is hidden from the main street. It ain't easy finding these places.
Guides assembling bikes. They were quite knowledgeble about the mechanics of different bikes. A lot more campy over here.
A view from a couple of hundred yards from our hotel. In the far distance you can see the Pyrenees. In the foreground are the foothills. The rivers run north into the foothills, then the valley, and finally turn northwest to exit into the Atlantic near Bordeaux.
In the late afternoon, I was riding around the city and saw this window half full of pastries. I made a further hole in the display and sat down to eat at a table facing the sidewalk and the display. Over the next 15-20 minutes at least 8-10 people walked by and not one failed to stop and at least look. Some went right in and bought something, but one young lady oscillated between going in and going on. Finally she entered and bought. The pastries sold themselves. Throughout all this activity I sat about 6 feet away munching away on my two wonderful chocolate wonders.
We are about ready for the warmup ride with Lawrence (in the blue). We had eleven on the tour. There was a Finnish professor of recycling, 3 young Canadian doctors, our group of three, and another American family consisting of a father and two young adults. Finally, we had a delightful Scottish accountant whose passion in life was the triathelon. He had done them all over Europe.
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