My cycling had improved hugely during the mountain phases of Morocco, and I was earning my wings in the front group. As we sped along the flats at speeds of more than 40mph, I learnt how to conserve my energy and my sanity in the peleton. But that meant keeping close. The faster we went the more disciplined we had to be. Yet the oncoming traffic wasn't so accommodating. Juggernauts blasted past at 60mph, blowing and sucking us in their wake. The cool, gentle tailwind dropped, and in its place a scorching hot continental headwind blew at us like a hair dryer straight off the Sahara.