On a sea of prattle

August 12, 2023

We've done some stuff over the last few weeks but getting up at 5:30 and setting off in the pitch dark was a new one. (Don't forget, we are an hour later in France) We needed to catch the ferry from St. Malo at 8am so there was no choice but to set off from my parents at unearthly O'clock. After hurried hugs and goodbyes, we set off down their track. They live in the middle of nowhere so it was very black. We just took each pothole as it happened. So did the tandem, of course. The tandem has been amazing over this trip. One puncture and a few cable adjustments and tyre reinflates, as you'd expect.

We set off like coiled springs. Probably the combination of knowing we had a boat to catch and having a whole day off cycling, the day before! We arrived fifteen minutes before the gates opened for the port and first spent some time talking to a neighbouring motorist then to two men who turned up on the bike lane behind us. We had plenty of time to compare notes. They had spent some time in a house in the south of France that belonged to one of them, then cycled from Bordeaux to St. Malo whilst their families presumably chose more orthodox methods for their return journeys.

The sun was out but there was still an early morning crispness so we were happy to be allowed on to the boat first. (If you want to be first in the queue on to a ferry, make sure you cycle.)

I am now sitting in the self service restaurant area having eaten a splendid meal. I ate it alone. There is quite a swell so Kate said she'd sit down whilst I bought the food. She sat very down - head against the low back rest - so when I emerged with our food, I thought her stomach had summoned her back to the cabin. She doesn't sail well. With a philosophical attitude, I sat and ate my meal whilst looking at hers. I thought I might take it to the cabin afterwards. It was Kate who eventually worked out that we were sitting about thirty feet apart.

I had lamb and chips. The portion size was so huge, I couldn't finish it. French portion sizes are growing, no doubt due to growing western appetites.

So that's it. A twenty mile ride back to the car when we disembark and it's all over.

I've done quite well at avoiding the 'why' question so far. Our memories of doing the 'end to end' last year have been so positive that it fooled us into doing it again. I'm quite sure that our memories of this trip will be as precious. It has been hard at times. It has also been good. No, it has been grand. Memories of fresh fruit. Apricots. Delicious figs straight from the tree at Auntie Sue's and great big flavoursome tomatoes from one of the accommodation hosts to supplement our lunch that day. Passing so many fields full of Donkeys, Alpacas and goats. (not to mention watching Dolphins as we crossed the bay if Biscay). Watching lizards scampering across the road in front of us, and dragon flies and butterflies. And then there were all the roads which seemed to insist on taking us to the highest place in that area to show off their wind turbines, telephone masts and water towers. (Which always drew grunts of appreciation from us)

There was the never ending 'bonjouring' as we past fellow cyclists who demonstrated a range of responses from a cheerful Bonjour to a simple stare of incredulity.

We have met so many characters, surely one of the best aspects to any trip. We have been delighted that so few either spoke English or were prepared to try speaking English. Somehow it has made our communication more meaningful. Especially in Spain.

We didn't even come across another English speaker until the Loire. And then, surprisingly few. It is only now, that we are on the ferry, that we are surrounded by our language. The ferry to Spain and the ferry from France are so different! The trip to Spain was all about Karaoke and evening entertainment. The French ferry is full of Hettys and Jaspers and men who look like they've struggled to part company with their suits for a fortnight. Vive la difference!

I really don't know if we shall ever do a comparable trip. (Please, no, you cry. It might mean another blog!) We shall allow the memories of this trip to percolate our limited grey cells and then see.

There is more to life than going on amusing cycle rides, of course. But that doesn't mean doing them is wrong. They are growing times. I know I've mentioned learning more about each other in a past blog, but really, growing only happens when you learn more about yourself. The question is, have we had enough of growing?

Thank you, whoever you are, for actually bothering to read my prattle. Somehow, it has made the trip easier for us both to know that you're 'with us'. Your comments have always been hugely appreciated. They have made us feel encouraged and confirmed that we are mad.