Another one bites the dust.

Day 91…

My friend Cock-a-whoop (nearly French for whooping cough) is still with me, keeping me awake at nights partying. I thought he was going away, but has decided to come back like a bad penny…

This hasn’t stopped me trying to find nirvana in the mountain tops…

We’ve had a house full in the Pyrénées this week, two of the fantastic four (Lisa with Christian and Luke with friend Dave) along with my really old schoolmate Geoff (really old, er, as in same age as me…) and Chrystelle and her two kids (Victor & Max). Ten of us, most of whom seemed intent on throwing themselves off mountains. Their success has been well documented by Queen…

Cue lyrics:

Another one bites the dirt…(Victor)

… and another one down (Christian)

… and another one down (Dave)

… and another one bites the dust (Luke)


…

All this falling about caused multiple bruises and the occasional broken bone. Fun eh?

None of which took my eye off the views, which, with the cloud layers below us, were nothing short of stunning.

Same view, different clouds…

and when the sun burst through these self same clouds … Magic!

A great week, apart from the sodding coughing.

Next week, another few days coughing in the snow. Not a bad form of convalescence eh? …

All this coughing lark has had an effect unthought of by whomever designed my bacterial friend. It has given me time. Time spent not sleeping. Time spent not expending energy. Time well spent irritating the world by writing.

5 chapters finished and 15 to go on my photography book(s) with a veterinary bent.

Please read that line carefully.

Check it out at www.philhyde.photos French translation to follow.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes…

…

Hey, I’m gonna get you too. Another one bites the dust. (Lisa)

All photos of me falling in the snow have been deemed unreliable evidence.

Phil

… with Geoff trying to photo-bomb.