During a cycle tour in France in 2012, Marie’s legs started talking to her. A year later, pedalling up the first long hill in Corsica, The Legs piped up again.
‘And how long is it for this time? Two months? And we’re going where? Oh, just to the Atlantic. Fine. No problem.’
With the same sturdy old bikes, the same stoic Legs and the same measure of stubbornness and stamina, Marie and Adi chug around Corsica, pedal through Provence, skirt the Cévennes and plod through the Pyrenees. With encounters with booted eagles, friendly farmers, cycle tourers of all description and a thrilling glimpse of the Yellow Jersey, the hilly regions of France charm them once again.
‘And how long is it for this time? Two months? And we’re going where? Oh, just to the Atlantic. Fine. No problem.’
With the same sturdy old bikes, the same stoic Legs and the same measure of stubbornness and stamina, Marie and Adi chug around Corsica, pedal through Provence, skirt the Cévennes and plod through the Pyrenees. With encounters with booted eagles, friendly farmers, cycle tourers of all description and a thrilling glimpse of the Yellow Jersey, the hilly regions of France charm them once again.
