Iexpected a tough day as I struck out towards Switzerland. I remeber the tales of William Tell, of how it is a mountain fortress that he bravely defended against al invaders. There is no easy way in.
The first signs were encouraging. Within half an hour I had reached the French equivalent of the Continental Divide. Saddleman surmounts. But then the sun rose high and the clouds evaporated. Locals retreated behind closed doors leaving only mad dogs and English cyclists in the midday sun. I limped into Versouel around 2.30pm but ignored the camping sign to press on another 25kms. It soon felt like a mistake to be marked as a skeleton in the road but I finally made Esprels and a picturesque riverside campsite.
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