Chasing The Shannon¹

By James T

The alarm went at 5.15.  The missed opportunity to wake Franca with coffee in bed at 8, and tell her that the Sportive plan had all been an elaborate April Fool, evaporated into the parallel universe in which common sense and appetite for challenge do not battle for supremacy.  Instead we dutifully boiled eggs, ate porridge and drank strong coffee before deserting the house (and the children within) to head out into the dawn for the road to Plumpton Racecourse. Continue reading “Chasing The Shannon¹”