We ascended, by car, the 6,200-foot Mount Ventoux (which often features in the Tour De France). I thought of cycling it, but luckily sense prevailed. At the top, unbelievably fit 60-year-old French men arrived after climbing the relentless gradient.

The air was clear and cold and the wind incredibly strong. One could see over mile after mile of country to the snow capped Alps. On a clear day, apparently you can also see the Pyrenees. God’s design or accident of pitiless nature?