"We are cycling the Aubisque!!!"

About an hour after we left Arudy on the Wednesday morning, and about ten minutes after our wheels pointed seriously upwards, Bunny turned to me and uttered the immortal words above. After a long day yesterday, and a nice evening in a beautiful French town, followed by a bit of flattish riding up to the base of it, we were finally doing what we had come to do. We were cycling up an iconic mountain.

Nothing in England is like this. For a start the climbing lasts for about 16 km, that's about 9 miles I think. The gradient starts fairly easily in the 3-5% range, before tilting unremittingly upwards. The only way to cope with these types of climbs as an amateur is to find your own pace and stick to it. Get in a mental zone and spin away at a cadence you are comfortable with in a gear that does not tire your muscles. In my case this gear was always the bottom one, at least on the first few big climbs.

The weather was fairly damp and misty, which was actually ideal and the cooling effect made it quite nice, despite the ever increasing pitch of the road. There were constant switch backs, waterfalls, steep drops off the road into ravines, and it seemed that my hypnotherapy had worked as these drops failed to scare me. I'm also pleased to say we followed the one-way system in Eaux-Bonnes, thus ensuring we completed all the route, unlike some people who cut the corner. Perhaps they should be DNCs?

Soon after that Bunny got tired of my pace and decided he needed his own, which was fine by me. One of the things I really enjoyed about the trip was the chance to be on my own in such beautiful, uplifting places. I love mountains, walking them or climbing, and the Pyrenees are no exception. The lush and verdant landscape of the lower slopes soon gave way to more exposed moorland as I passed the ski village of Gourette, which was undergoing summer renovation. In honour of the first big climb, and at 1709m it's a high pass, I was wearing my King of the Mountains socks for the first time.

After about 90 minutes I was at the top, into the cafe and getting my carnet stamped. I quickly gulped down some hot chocolate, took a few photos and prepared myself for the descent. You can see it on Google street view, it is spectacular, with the road clinging to the edge of the rocky mountain, winding through a tunnel, before snaking upwards for 2km to the top of the Col du Souleur. We were warned about the exploits of Wim van Elst, who went over the edge in 1951, being fortunate not to plunge all the way to the bottom, and was rescued by his team-mates. With no ACG to support me I decided caution was the order of the day, and took it easy going down.

The other warning was to put on clothes. The mountains are so high, and the descents so long, that it takes a long time to get to the bottom, especially if you don't pedal much. Pedalling makes you go faster, obviously, but it can also make you colder as it increases the wind-chill. So after climbing up with just shirt and base layer, it was practically full winter gear for the descent. You needed it too, as it was quite cold.

I hardly noticed the Souleur before the descent began in earnest, about 13km down to Argeles Gazost, where most of the party were already lunching at a small cafe. By now, following the pattern of yesterday, the sun was coming out and the day was heating up so I divested myself of all the layers in preparation for the big one- the Tourmalet.

It's tempting to say absolutely noting about it at all, after all you can find so much out there about it. But what would that serve? So here are the facts: 18 km of climbing from Luz St Sauveur, average gradient is 7-8%, up until Bareges it's a fairly straightish road, beyond there it is stunning in its beauty, wild and mountainous. The highest navigable road in the Pyrenees at 2115m, and the most famous mountain of the Tour de France.

I found it the hardest climb i have ever done. It just never, ever relents. On almost every other climb, there is a flat or shallow gradient for a bit, to give you a chance to take stock, gather yourself and move on. The Tourmalet is like a hammer striking you every 60 seconds with amazing precision as it makes you suffer. There are longer, there are steeper cols on this trip, but none are as unforgiving as the Tourmalet. It took me two hours.

Another quick change, cafe stop, glance round the cycling memorabilia, get the carnet stamped and down I went. Again I took my cautious approach, stopping for some photos and absorbing the disdain of a suicidal maniac local cyclist, in full racing tuck, zooming past me at a tremendous rate. Good job for my caution, as my slowish 25-30 mph, enabled me to stop before i collided with a sheep that decided to emerge from the roadside.

Before long I was down in St Marie de Campan, before another few miles took me to our stop for the night at Campan, where they were having a scarecrow festival. Dozens of them everywhere, including a wedding party, cyclists all over our hotel even.

After yesterday's average speed of around 15.5 mph, today we were down to around 11mph, reflecting the slowness of going up and down such huge mountains. 78 miles too, but they were hard ones, believe me yes.