This is not Geraardesbergen, but St Andrews does have some cobbles. Not having not ridden on them on this bike in particular, and in any case, not recently, I delighted in the opportunity to imagine myself at the start of the race in Flanders a couple of months from now. (OK, so it was flat, in the sunshine and not midnight, but that's what imagination is for.)
It wasn't comfortable. I can't see myself sitting in the saddle much and am already looking forward to heading south toward Mont Ventoux and the first checkpoint 1,000 km away. I have in the mean time been looking at the Muur on line and came across this interesting graphic on Strava:-
I didn't get back on the bike until later in the evening, but instead excitedly gazed down the 18th fairway of the Old Course, with the grandstands up in anticipation of the carnivals arrival in a few weeks time.
As much as anything I was amazed at how accessible it was. We walked across the roadway that divides the approach to the 18th hole, to cries of 'Four!' We even managed to stand on the famous bridge. Forgive me, I was never a golfer. Indeed my Doctor advised me never to become one, since at the time of my diagnosis with Ankylosing Spondilitis, he realised that flexibility was never again going to be a strong point. I can but dream, however.