Possibly three of the most painful days cycling of my life. Les quatre cyclistes d’apocalypse we might well be but I have encountered les trois elements d’apocalypse at the same time, three days in a row – lashing rain, 1:3 inclines (with my bike laden with several kitchen sinks) and hurricane winds in my fizzog (I exaggerate ‘just slightly’ to gain the sympathy vote). It has been torture – but like torture (so I am told) the pain goes away when it stops – and I’m just off to sleepies now – perchance to wake up in time for the next leg. It has been/is being ‘interesting’. Character building?