Le Tour, Much

It's the thing everyone is talking about just now. The Grand Depart - the starter for the Tour de France - is presently hurtling round Yorkshire. It's going through the village where we used to live, and very near to where The Sunshines live, too.

Everyone's talking about it, but not necessarily politely. Over the next couple of days, roads are being closed and traffic delayed over two counties at least, but even so, Yorkshire is taking Le Tour to its heart. Yellow bicycles are hung from high buildings and painted on roads and hillsides. Yellow jerseys (for the leader) are everywhere. The Tour also has a red and white spotty jersey which I think is for The King of The Mountains and a green one and I can't remember who's supposed to wear that one or whether his granny knitted it or not. Would you believe, farmers have been painting their sheep in these colours?

The village has been making bunting. They have, in fact, succeeded in their world record attempt at making the longest bunting in the world. (Go, Mytholmroyd!) That's to encourage the cyclists because the steepest continual incline in the UK goes from the main street, past the church and the school, and up over the moors. You feel your ears pop on the way up. The thought of riding a bike up there is unspeakable, but some people like that sort of thing.

What does Much think of it all?

Bloomin' bikes! The more I hear about them bikes, the more I'm glad I moved north. Disturbing the peace, that's what it'll come to, there'll be crowds in the streets and wheels flying off, probably cyclists flying off too, going at that pace. Did you ever see a gnome in a jersey, on a bike? No, and I'll tell you why. It's because we've got more sense, that's why. We don't get much traffic through the back garden, except I made the acquaintance of a field mouse t'other day. Still can't see over the blooming lavender, though. Not unless I stand up on me snail. Who wants to rush about on a bike, eh, when there's a perfectly good snail around ?