I've just cycled back from playing tennis in the west of the city near Porte Dauphine. Well, sort of playing tennis since about three games into it the heavens opened and we had to abandon everything! A few lightning strikes and rolls of thunder made it pretty obvious that it was all over - a long way to cycle for just 10 minutes play!

(mini digression - the other night there was a massive thunderclap at about four in the morning - it was so loud that my first thought was that it was a bomb going off (not that I've heard a bomb go off actually). Nobody else seemed to have heard it, which amazes me since it was sooo loud. I guess that's what happens when you live in the 10th and everyone else is in the 4th...). However, I checked someone into an apartment today, and they'd just come from Montmartre (a bit odd - they were doing a tour of the quartiers of Paris (next stop St Germain) - not a bad idea, but a bit too much moving for me) - and they'd heard it as well. So, north of the city was the only place blown up by lightning then - end of digression).

The route to the tennis courts took me through the Place de l'Etoile (where the Arc de Triomphe is), and I really wasn't looking forward to cycling around it - fortunately there's a little mini-road going around it, and it totally avoids the hideous roundabout (in case you don't know, it's a five lane roundabout with no lane markings, and cars driving onto the roundabout have right of way!). I proudly announced this to my tennis partner, Alex, and he said 'Oh yes, you mean Chicken Alley'. Hmph. At least I'm a living chicken.

The hardest thing about those roads though, is that they're all cobbled. Not an inch of tarmac in sight, unless you count the patches of road repairs looking like oversized chewing gum blotches everywhere. The cobbles are not only bumpy, but in many places completely pot-holed. I used to cycle a lot in the Peak District in the UK, and would happily bounce around steep stony paths. The cobbled roads however had the added danger of taxis and buses - not something you meet on the average off road path (apart from around Manchester).

The worst was coming back - just as you approach Gare St Lazarre the road goes completely to pieces. The rain had filled every single pot-hole going, and I had to bounce through the whole lot standing on the pedals hoping that the bike wouldn't slip out from under me, throwing me into the path of the number 26 bus thundering down right behind.

It was a lot of fun. Next time I'm going to try it while listening to my voicemail on my mobile...