The team's fear of their own terrible doom was beginning to grow.
Team member James' mind was heading in an Autre Direction.
80's Man lavished in the industrial splendor of the city.
The vast industry of the Saint Malo dockyard was breathtaking.
Team Graham woke up on the ferry feeling weary, but after a quick cafe au lait et un pain au chocolat in Saint Malo they were ready to roll. They bounced on down through the French countryside nodding to some Eric B & Rakim, as Graydog pumped some serious beats from his back wheels, having hooked up the battery-powered ipod bonanza. The small northern French villages didn't know what had hit them as they powered on through with some bad ass beats. As they stopped in a small bistro they conversed fluently with some locals.
As the team rolled down a smooth quiet road with the wind in their hair and the sun on their skin they realised how far removed they were from the hard petrol soaked streets of Portsmouth and the back breaking hills of Shaftesbury. The team had come back with some serious poundage from their near destruction after 70 miles of tenuous labour. After having had their backs nearly broken, they were on the right track.
Soon after the team arrived in Plancoet, their destination, to be welcomed by uncle and aunt of the Grahams, William and Sue. There they rested fully, regained their strength, and prepared to tackle the vast expanse of land that lay before them... after a barbeque and a few cans of Grafenwalder.