Stories from
the road
(and beyond!)
Steaming socks on the ‘spine road’
Readying ourselves to get off the boat, we were in the invidious position of knowing that we were about to tackle our nemesis from our last visit here - the short, sharp climb from the slip, over the hill to the village and the causeway to South Uist. We decided not to put on an ‘ambitious, but rubbish’ display of heroic failure for the other tourists, so as we usually do now, we waited for everyone else to hit the beach and get up the road before setting off.
Vatersay - Barra(bados)
Rhoda is next, and then we are off to the shore, ready to play and explore.
There is no-one else around, at all. We have the most beautiful beach, right outside our tent door, and it is all ours.
This is what it’s about.
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!!".
Broken down and befriended
The 'walk of shame' through the Warren, as I cursed my having said only yesterday that we were 'due a mechanical', reminded me just why we do what we do on holiday. People with few clothes and many tattoos, poorly behaved dogs and children, carrying cheap-jack inflatables and the spoils from the arcades. I reckon I would sooner visit hell itself than spend a week in a static caravan in Dawlish Warren. What they would make of our kind of holiday, one can of course only conjecture at!