Kuala Lampur, Sept. 23 -- One of life's milestones, well for me at least: my very first cycling trip.

It's been a long time in coming, going by my decade-old column celebrating my first entry into the world of MAMILs, Middle Aged Men in Lycra, or rather MAWILs, the female equivalent.

That's when I joined my local cycling club in the northwest of Paris to escape the four kids, the animals and kitchen on a Sunday morning.

I'd be up with the first sparrow-song and head to the piscine to meet the other colourful and keen cyclists.

Then, after a few bises exchanged with tapping of helmets, we'd head off and soon be surrounded by rolling hills, sleepy farm towns and bright yellow fields. Good fun. The dishes could wait.

My fellow cyclists ...