"You're not in France now, Luv!" (WARNING long blogpost)

Yesterday was my first ride since we arrived  home last week.  THE Coach invited me to accompany him on his Sunday morning ride. Yes, I've graduated to the Parramatta ride.  It is 50 kms and has to be done as quickly as possible.  Well, those are THE Coach's rules and rules are mean't to be broken...

When I heard it we had only cycled for five minutes, up over the Gladesville bridge and down on to Victoria Road.  Hadn't heard one for at least a month - the unfriendly honk of a car horn.  In one sharp jolt I was reminded that cycling in Sydney is nothing like cycling in Paris...

Maddie, Harry and I on the velibs cycling Parisian style sans helmets!

AND

Victoria Road is a long way from the quiet country roads of the Dordogne and Lot districts.

Somewhere along the road in the Dordogne or the Lot districts.

So,

as I pedaled along yesterday, ignoring THE Coach's calls to 

"Catch up and draft in behind me!" memories of France kept drifting back. 

Bridges 

over the Parramatta River reminded me of our evening strolls along the Seine...

 or the many bridges we crisscrossed over the Dordogne, Vezere and Lot rivers. 

 

 

Towers 

of the smokestacks in Silverwater seemed to strangely resemble the towers of villages and chateaus...

Manicured lawns

of Oatlands House tiggered memories of beautiful patchwork fields and shady verges...

As THE Coach kept beckoning to "catch his slip stream", my thoughts drifted back to

our peloton

where there was always someone keep me company at the back of the pack, up the long hill rides.

Somehow downtown Parramatta made me think of market day in Sarlat and the 

beautiful bastide towns.  

Ahhhhh memories, I'm sure that's what slowed me down yesterday, or perhaps it was my memories of the Hills.

As we pulled into the usual Wareemba cafe a fleeting thought crossed my mind -

Should I order a

baguette, croissant, glace OR be tempted by the plat du jour...

And then reality struck - raisin toast -

"You're not in France now, Luv!" was the vibe THE Coach sent me across the table.

It was a wonderful trip thanks to the great itinerary organised by Cyclomundo and decouverte-loisirs; the helpful tips from friends like Anne R, Catherine, Mary and Julieanne who shared their Dordogne highlights during our long planning phase, and most of all, thanks to all members of the Sparke-Porter-Glare Peloton who shared the joys of cycling together each day.  It was, for me, the trip of a lifetime, or perhaps the first of many...

A unique family Peloton

Fresh legs as we set out on the morning of our final ride -

Stephen, Paul, Monica, Jenny, Genevieve and Bill.

Final shot of the Peloton as we finished outside Hotel Terminus, Cahors.

Genevieve (my sister-in-law) described the roles adopted by the Peloton members in a recent email to her family:

"As the tour progressed the members tended to fall into their natural roles within the team:

Jenny - Captain and team instigator, chief croissant and glace assessor

Stephen - coach, forward scout, mechanic, sommeiller

William - hill coach, navigator, mechanic

Genevieve - translator, assistant chief croissant and baguette assessor

Monica - physio/trainer, lunch-time restaurant spotter, assistant glace assessor

Paul - photographer, medico, mechanic and tour blogger

One comment that was made several times during the trip was how many attributes Stephen shared with Colin. Especially his insatiable curiosity and bottomless reserves of energy."

Here's to the Peloton ...

AND

to our next cycling adventure...

Cheers to THE Coach... it's not over yet and so the blog continues.