To quote Jean-Luc Godard, a story should have a beginning, middle and end but not necessarily in that order. Previous readers will have noticed a distinct theme – enthusiastic amateur cyclist takes on a decent but definitely attainable challenge, fails to prepare bike or body, has an unfortunate toilet related incident, suffers a setback that surely heralds failure but somehow muddles through to the end. But not this time baby, oh no. And not only because I didn’t have cause to utter waar is het toilet alstublieft? once.
I really wasn’t having much fun. And I only had myself to blame. The wind was bitter, my shoulders slumped and I’d last seen my cycling companions a couple of hours previously. I also had no idea where I was or how far...