Wednesday 19^th May, Best Western Hotel, Prosser, Washington.

15.00

Yesterday

I had somehow imagined that these last few days of the trip would be a gentle downhill amble, getting ever nearer to the warm Pacific coast. A few hours a day cycling then a relaxing afternoon in a pretty little town. Crowds would be gathered in the streets to throw bouquets and shout “Vive les deux Michels”. (My geography is weak and I've always had Quebec and Seattle mixed up – probably because they are both islands).

As it is the pain continues and will probably do so until the end. After being burnt and half- blinded on Monday, we spent Tuesday travelling through torrential rain and howling winds, for over seven hours to cover the seventy miles to Richland. Not much to look at, apart from potato fields, and lorries drenching you with spray every ten minutes. A really draining day. Crossing the Columbia River, near the end, Mike had to stop and cram a large cherry pie into his gob because he had come over all faint. This would have made an amusing photo if my camera hadn’t got waterlogged in the pocket of my super Gore-Tex waterproof jacket.

We got to the Red Lion Motel , recommended to us the owner of Woody’s bar in Dayton, only to find it was fully booked. The receptionist a supersize version of Christopher Biggins offered to ring around a few other places for us. This was very kind of him but gradually, our gratitude wore off. I mentioned the names of various places we had seen on the way, all reasonable looking and each time he would wrinkle his little button nose and say “Oh no,no,no, not there!”. Eventually his assistant, a very sensible girl, suggested the Day’s Inn three hundred yards away. We said we would try this and left, having clearly gone down several social classes in Mr. Biggins’ eyes.

The Days Inn was fine as was the Atomic Ale Microbrewery around the corner (Half-Life Hefeweizen ( wheat beer), Atomic Amber and Plutonium Porter). The Apollo Greek a few doors away was fun is there really something called Greek spaghetti?

Today

Maybe it will be alright after all. The sunshine returned this morning. We had a very enjoyable gentle thirty-two mile spin along Yakima Valley (famous for fruit and wine) into Prosser, getting here just in time for lunch. I even discovered that my camera had started working again.

Our original plan was to press on all the way to Yakima (another 50 miles) but after the last couple of days this did not seem such a good idea. It also means that our penultimate day, which involves a 50 mile scramble up the hard shoulder of an Interstate Highway, will be on a Saturday rather than on a Friday. (We are not even sure if we’re allowed on there yet.)

Prosser is small but lively tourist town mainly geared to the local wineries. We had lunch in the Keno café and lounge (Lounge means there’s a bar) a friendly little diner, and then headed out along Wine Country Road, turned right at Chardonnay , left at Merlot (I’m serious) and booked into the Best Western. In the motel by 14.00. Luxury.