Yup, Sasquatch was right (see comment under "the route"), the jersey is browned with sweat and forest dirt. A month delayed due to blood doping, what can I say, the tour is over now. I'm on my own. Baguettes, brie, salami, and espresso: I have found my staples. It hasn't been but three days. I'm still jet lagged and delusional, but i've managed 200 km from Paris. What I can't manage is this f***ing keyboard though, everything is misplaced. It took me five minutes to find the @ key. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ The plqne ride wqs long and sleepless(q=a!!!!!). Neither excessive wine nor sleeping pills could knock me out. 18 hours later, I assembled my bike at the airport, loaded it up, held my breath, qnd headed for the exit ramp. I managed ok through the infinite bustling
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