This week I’ve been engrossed in watching the mountain stages of the Tour de France so I haven’t done a lot of blogging or website stuff. When I’m not watching the race I like to go out on the bike myself and pretend that one day I’ll be able to cycle so casually up big mountains. Not very convincingly, as I struggle up the gentle hills of the Dordogne, but I do my best.

For some reason, when cars do pass me – unusual on the quiet roads around here – it is never during the moments when I’m soaring at great speed uphill, but at those rare times when I have a pained look on my face and look like I’m about to fall off from over-exertion. Coincidence, or do I really look like that most of the time?

Part of the fun of cycling is trying to look casual and fresh to people in passing vehicles while struggling to breathe and see through the sweat pouring into my eyes. Made worse when I’m trying to eat at the same time – try eating a dried apricot and keeping your mouth closed when you’re hopelessly panting for breath at the same time. Not easy I promise you.

The Tour is passing quite close to here next week so that should be a fun day out for Mrs B and the girls – a couple of hours in the car so we can have 30 seconds of watching the peloton go whizzing past. Still, we’ll take a picnic, shout ‘Allez, les gars’ at full volume, and I’m sure a good time will be had by all. Except oldest daughter who will doubtless be on the phone telling her friends how boring it all is.

It seems that the water bottles thrown to the edge of the road by the cyclists are almost collectors items, so perhaps we’ll get one of them lobbed at us to really make the day worthwhile.

I saw one spectator on the television rushing into a ditch to retrieve the water bottle thrown by the cyclist at the front of the group. Unfortunately it took him a little while to get to it, by which time all the other cyclists had passed behind his back. He turned back round to watch the race and looked amazed to find he had missed the whole thing. It wasn’t clear if he found the bottle.

For the big day in the mountains, President Sarkozy – a long time fan of the Tour de France – went along to watch and get a ride in a car that followed along behind. Interviewed afterwards he was talking about the incredible speed the cyclists had descended the mountain, and said the car he was in had needed to go so fast that he had sat down and put his seatbelt on.

That sounds to me like an admission that for the rest of the journey he had NOT had his seatbelt on. Which is of course against the law. I’m still investigating whether his car was travelling at more than 50 kmh when they passed through the town at the bottom of the hill – further shock revelations to follow if I can accumulate enough evidence!