“I started off downhill at kilometre 85.
I'm forging ahead.
From now on I'll really have to hold on.”
And when, at his back the hunt is on, he becomes nothing but a fugitive and a runaway who sees a band of executioners hard on his heels.
What does a man, isolated in effort and pain, think about?
This is the question that Jean-Bernard Pouy poses in this novel: a four-hour story of a racing cyclist.
Four hours: a man's life; suspense. A thriller too.
For the Tour de France still means teams - Lilian's has been put together haphazardly - sponsors, money, TV, - "sport on the telly"...
Austria: Egoth (German)