The Road to Samuelston

It would have been a lucky Lady able to relax with the papers on a Sunday morning; and that lucky lady was not I, when his Lordship had plans for a life enhancing cycle run for us instead.

It was obvious that the Tour de France had given him aspirations above his station, and with a dry morning forecast he was persuasive in winkling me out from my comfy chair.

It's only when you cycle yourself that you realise how phenomenal are those Tour riders with their ability to cycle at an average speed of 30 mph on the flat and 50-60 mph down hill.
We were happy to tootle along at 12mph with blip stops and a tea and ice cream stop at our favourite Port Seton cafe.

One of the blip stops produced this picture of the road into the pretty little hamlet of Samuelston near Haddington.

Back home to watch bits of the Tour climbing through the mists of the Pyrenees.
I'm not intending to practice putting on a rain jacket while cycling uphill with no hands on the handlebars as many of them did without losing speed.

A drinks party later at a neighbour's will provide a fitting end to a Sunday even if I haven't managed to finish reading the papers.