Yesterday occurred the demndest thing.....We went to Oradour and as we left it began to rain. After 30 kms it was tipping it down and I abandoned the idea of stopping and putting on my wets. Those in the group who had them were wearing theirs, but there were four of us who were in leathersand/or cordura jackets and jeans. After about another ten miles we went from "tipping" to "lavatorial" I have NEVER seen rain like it. The wind was coming in horizontally from the right and the LAKES of water were being blown in undulating waves across the tarmac like giant reptiles. Cars were stopping 'cos they couldn't see a thing and we carried on. Crazy. Lot of fun though. The rain was warm and so I didn't feel that tell-tale icy trickle as the first drip enters your boot. When I stopped to regroup I got off the bike and torrents of water ran off me and straight into my boots. The moment of truth came when while stopping at one end of Cadwell-sur-Charente I asked them if they wanted to take the short, straight, Roman road back to Melle, or do a last circuit of Cadwell with a valedictory blast up the esses at Chef-Boutonne. "To the esses" they cried, to a man. My heart felt fit to burst with pride.
Got back to the Chateau and must have poured a good litre out of our boots. Have NEVER ridden in rain like it. Great fun.
