Back on the way home, ready to engage myself with the isolation of my jars of paint, sweaty all over after working my Giant ATB all moring preparing myself for six weeks of cycling in Spain, the Sierras and cordilleras of the Spain interior are awaiting me and I don't feel like having to put with their hindsight sarcasm about my fitness...
Life is like a kind of living theater, a kind of Tableau Vivant that will get the better of me if I start my cycle tour unfit, the crazy weather gods like Thor and his allmighty hammer Mjölnir laughing their heads off while I struggle up steep Sierras that are no match for even the highest category in Le Tour De France...
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