Stories from
the road
(and beyond!)
Who will buy?
“Who will buy this wonderful morning...".
I can only attribute to the invigorating power of the road, the slowly settling change in me.
That's not to say we didn't have things to do today, because that spoke wasn't going to fix itself, and our bikes were literally caked in sand and grit after many miles on the voies vertes.
Religieuse, Ribot, Rayon, Relax
A short but very sharp climb later (ideally accompanied by the 'Hovis' music, played on an accordion) past a number of encouragingly-named but distinctly 'ferméed' buildings, we arrived at what turned out to be the only outlet in the village these days, a sports bar with an en suite village shop.
Thomas Ivor and I walked into the bar and practically everyone turned to look. It was like I'd burst into a wild west saloon with a gun in each hand. I had a quick scout of the place, looking for signs of food, but was aware of the eyes following me…
Making up the miles: Mäel-Carhaix to Loudéac
We became something of a tourist attraction ourselves as we stopped to consult the map for options for the next stretch of our day's mileage. One lady got her camera out and started snapping pictures of the girls in their trailer, which was a bit surreal. The lady and her family stopped for a chat and she was amazed at Thomas Ivor's proficiency and the distance we were hoping to cover. She told me I was mad to do this with my "remorque". By the end of the day, I was starting to agree! Today's mileage was a PB for me towing the trailer.
Chasing the day
Back we rode towards the Réseau Breton. As we did so, Katie took her first 'scalp' with the trailer, overtaking a family with a horse-drawn caravan. I'm not sure where they stood in comparison to one another on power:weight ratio, but downhill, the horse and steel-tyred caravan were no match for Mrs J and her Croozer!
How do you say 'broken spoke' in French?!
I set off with the wheel in the back of the car. My A-level French did not include bike maintenance vocabulary. For our next trip, I must spend some time creating a crib sheet for bike terminology. I know the words for wheel, tyre, puncture and brakes, but after that I'm officially stuck.
Roscoff to Le Clôitre St Thégonnac. Deuxième désastre!
The road into Morlaix that we chose at Lanvéguen (D769) in preference to the signed cycle route was lovely- wide, smooth, lightly trafficked. We rolled into Morlaix, under the motorway viaduct and towards the double height railway viaduct feeling good.
Then disaster struck.
"TWANG!!".
Lumbering Up
The trip, then, became a case of making a route up to fit between two fixed points and times, in a place I had scarcely visited, a language I do not speak, in the peak holiday season, with three children, one of whom, in Thomas Ivor's case, would be riding their own bike for the first time, on the other side of the road. Not much to go wrong there!