I made it into Paris. Safely. I dragged my body around the country following the riders with my knitting needles, over the undulating foothills of the Pyrenees to the snow-capped peaks of les Alpes.
Now I can sip champagne and wear mon maillot jaune.
And I think my golden fleece is a little bit more stylish than Sastre's.
Somedays I needed a suitcase full of courage to keep at the gull lace stitch when I really wanted to knit some socks. But I did it. In less than 21 days. I have to say I'm pretty darned proud of myself.
I'll miss my friends Paul and Phil. A Bientot my boys.
So, just like a lot of the cyclists, I'm now heading for Beijing. This time as part of Team Edmonton in the Ravelympics in the event of the Scarf Stroke (why do I do this to myself?). I guess I'd better get off the bike and into the pool!