To me, Brittany and cycling are inextricably linked. It started when I was a skinny kid in the 1970s, taking family trips and trying to hold my dad’s wheel on the roads around Brest, Quimper, Carnac, Tréguier. Then camping trips as a penniless student – I watched the 1989 Lemond/Fignon showdown in a bar in Dol de Bretagne. Later, as an only slightly less penniless adult, I’d follow the Tour de France whenever it headed into this great heartland of cycling.
My wife Carole and I were there for the Tour this summer, bikes on the back of the van – but somehow managed to go home without having turned a single pedal stroke. Slackers.
