Skim vs. France - Sunday - Day 2

Today was a test. It started off most pleasant, it was nice and cool, breakfast was a flapjack which was donated to me by the venerable Boz and Sooz and oatcakes dry and my water supply was dangerously low; luckily a nearby Carrefore saved my life by being open. Re-supplying I thought 'If I nail a litre of OJ and get another litre and a half of water (basically refilling my bottles on my bike) that'll see me through until I stop to re-supply for dinner.'  Of course forgetting that it is a Sunday and that all big shops and most little ones close at midday. Happy for now in my ignorance the four litres of fluid I managed to get my hands on through the day disappeared with a velocity that truly took me by surprise.

I digress, as the morning continued being increasingly pleasant I still felt a tremendous oneness with myself and my surroundings, the miles rolled by with a gentle but persistent haste. I absorb myself in the pleasures of looking at a map, having a vague direction I need to be going in (largely south with a little west thrown in), looking to avoid or navigate around obstacles (major roads, cities, and rivers) and getting on with the task of enjoying the stunning countryside that France has to offer. It was little things like crossing the Seine on a free ferry was bewildering at first but as the shock wore off that they weren't going to ask for money for the extremely short crossing made it all the more pleasant.

Lunch, sitting in the shade of a tree by a Boule trap in a sleepy village whilst I devour a large sandwich of cold cuts (ham in this case), a brick of cheese and salad, rounded off with some juicy in season yellow plums can be heartily recommended; throw in a short nap and it's heaven sent. As I battled further south I arrived at the town of Couches-en-Ouche to find the town centre, and the direction I would've liked to have gone, blocked off. Bugger, I thought as I studied the map to see how far I'd need to back track but as I did the sound of music availed my ears; Street Festival! That I have to admit were playing some rather good brass and percussion based funky jazz. With the main street cordoned off the bands would walk up and down stopping at various busy places to play a few songs for the gathering crowds pleasure. Largely this consisted of the bars, which were packed full and flowing out onto the street but occasionally they would meet and have a mini battle. It was a highly entertaining interlude, even the random AC/DC cover band at the end of the road gave me a giggle, though it is odd when you hear songs you know sung in heavily accented English.

 

Unfortunately I did get a little lost and whilst I did end up heading south it was in the slightly wrong direction, it was time for the first of many de-tours. If only it wasn't for the consistent head wind which for the last forty odd miles of the day and had me swearing at it on more than one occasion the day could've continued to be pleasant. Alas the old worrying water situation wasn't much better today with the previously mentioned lack of shops I dwindled to my reserve bottle, which was planned for cooking alone. Finding another lovely campsite in a unused field next to a road and behind a hedge I settled down for the night with a pleasing dinner of rice, veg and sauce (I'm afraid I did drink the rice water, desperate times); a pipe and the liberal application of aftersun (of course I'm creaming myself through the day but that didn't stop me from cooking) I was ready for bed. Another small section of France conquered, the search for fluids will continue tomorrow; bonne nuit.

Lesson for the day: looks and comfort are two different things in a saddle, the latter should always outweigh the former.