So, it's 0720 here in Lyon. I'm sitting in the lounge, waiting for my BA flight to London. So far this morning:
1. Up, showered, shaved - novel! - dressed, packed, collected bagged bike, paid left hotel. Or rather squeezed past the Germans smoking right outside the door. Pardon got me a down the large nose look - accidentally smacking 23kg's of bike into the back of the Teutonic tosser on my last trip through got him more animated. Sorry mate, honest.
2. Realise there are no carts. Large suitcase, small case, laptop and bike bag. Bum. Sling bike over shoulder, wheel other two, I must have looked like a tall tortoise. Get to terminal, up escalator, wait for 20 minutes whilst Gallic shrugging fails to change ticket tape at check in. Check in. Go to wrong departure gate.
3. Go through to right gate check point. Put clobber on conveyer. Walk through metal detector. Back, take shoes and belt off. Try again - success! Asked to open small case. Officer points to plastic bag containing two pedals, two wheel skewers and a pedal spanner. Shakes head - and takes out spanner. Huh? Give me a wheel skewer, I could have a pilot at my mercy in seconds, but a pedal spanner??? You have to be kidding me. Nope. Wave goodbye to best pedal spanner I've ever owned.
Le sigh.
It's amazing how dehydrated I still am after the last couple of days - I keep craving and drinking cold water.
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