The wind seemed to be in our favor today. Finally. The white mountain peaks majestically stood above the fields of brown where we camped. For the last time we looked back and wondered how we managed to tackle this huge obstacle. Did we really do that shit?
Anyway, time for the next one, lift a donkey, then two small passes waiting for us before the reward of yet another endless downhill. Unluckily, the wind prevented us from rocketing down through the smooth hairpin turns at a staggering velocity. Instead we had to pedal to reach 20 km/h going one way, flying back the other way at 60 km/h over the buttersmooth tarmac. This was how hard the wind had been blowing in our faces for the last seven days, and we were fed up. As we entered the town, we left some kids with tingly palms after handing out some free topspeed high fives. The second floor of an abandonned barn provided shelter for the oncoming rainclouds which the wind was undoubtedly bringing - we could smell it. We hung up our cocoons under the cuckoo's nest and listed to his gentle whistling. The live representation of an out of sync cuckoo's clock brought us to the land of cooky dreams after a last rainwater coffee brew.