Balsthal - Switzerland - Eight of the Seventh

Arrived in Switzerland today...two countries down, three to go if you include the land mass that is San Marino.

So far over 1,200km, two punctures, one medieval fair, one broken wheel (Mick has perfected the art of cycling on one wheel), one night on the tear (still not fully recovered from that yet), 7 stitches, 6 good goings over from our close friend Debbie and two cols (for the uninitiated, a col is one mo'fo' of a hill).

Spirits are high and went even higher on receiving the news that Bernie arrived today with a melted wheel. We first thought that Michael O'Leary decided to strap his bike to the wing to save money when in actual fact Bernie melted the wheel himself on the way to the airport, the fumes from the Galant getting the better of the new Panaracer tyre.

Verdun: an amazing spot...a fortress town that still bears all the scars from the war...everywhere you look there are military graveyards and we went to visit a destroyed village called Bezonvaux which brought it all home.

So for those of you who think that the weather at home is depressing try this: on Sunday we pedalled to le Thillot at the foot of the Ballon d'Alsace from Toul - a mere 145km. Now here's the best bit: having eaten in a dodgy pizzeria the night before we were all suffering from Delhi Belly and with 90km to go it started to rain, now when I say rain I don't mean the light old drizzle you get at home - this was pelting, vertical, and really drenching rain. My passport, Hardy's evening wear and Martin's copy of War and Peace all were casualties. On arriving in le Thillot we discovered that the hotel we were booked in was closed. Nothing new there as it was Sunday afternoon in France afterall and we'd been through all of that before. So we ensconsced ourselves in a local pub, taught the friendly barmaid how to make hot whiskeys, wrapped our feet in newspaper and watched the Tour on telly. 2 hrs later and the hotel still wasn't opened so we ask our barmaid "what's the story missus?" "L'hotel est fermé Monsieur...c'est dimanche"..."Oh Scheisse" (been practising my German but not my spelling).
In the end le Terminus was our saviour. Yet to be stuck for a roof over our heads...yet.

GC