Before I start, a quick summary: today has been a day of mixed emotions. On one hand, we've cycled the least we've done in one day so far, and probably sweat more than the last year of cycling combined in exhausting heat. But! We did go to decathlon, so really... it's been a good day.
We went to bed (separately) last night on the agreement we would wake up early and get moving before the sun had time to come up fully and make our cycling lives a misery.
We left camp at 9.30, roughly an hour or so later than we'd planned. Good start. However breakfast was almond croissant laced with powdered sugar, which was fantastic. We already knew that the cycle today wouldn't be as picturesque as previous days, as we now had to rely on roads rather than canal paths. Unfortunately this also meant stopping periodically to work out if we were going the right way. French roads are confusing! Everyone goes round roundabouts the wrong way.
The first highlight (notable event, we weren't really celebrating) was pulling over just after a moped and a police car parked on the side of the road. We'd stopped to check we were going the right way and not about to end up on a motorway. It turns out the owner (or maybe not) of the moped was to be carted off by the police, leaving his distressed (I assume) girlfriend on her own with said moped. I assume he's now in the Bastille awaiting a beheading.
We soldiered on in search of a town called Lorient. There was one primary objective in our minds. The holy grail and Mecca of any active hobbyist. The pièce de résistance of retail outlets. DECATHLON!
Our journey bore two fruit. David needed new trainers, his old ones beginning to resemble something you would expect to be pulled from the sea on the end of a fishing hook. David finally decided on the pair he'd like to own, and then quickly swapped them for a pair on sale as they were asics. It also turned out they were cheaper than advertised, so win win. I bought some new cleats as mine are slowly falling to bits. Exciting stuff.
We left decathlon and had a moment of silence for David's old shoes. He spared them no grace or mercy, instead throwing them directly in to the first bin outside the shop door. What a send off. Hardly a proper Shoeneral.
We carried on out of town on what reminded me of the A32. Nice surroundings but a lot of lorries wanting the space you are currently occupying. This combined with the heat, made for frequent breaks. David had resorted to listening to a Star wars dramatisation, getting on his own back on me laughing to myself and being distracting. David's notes read: "Luke drives dangerously to win a race. Leia gets people killed because she can't keep her mouth shut about the death star." Doesn't sound very funny to me. I do wonder about him.
We marched on toward the town of Bannalec. Eloquently now known to us as bananaleg. Its the small things that keep you sane, as you approach thirty miles in thirty degree heat. We stopped for lunch, cowered under some shade given off by a tall bush, under which a bench was conveniently placed.
We did at one point get treated to a lovely long downward section, which snaked round trees and rocks as we descended in to a valley. At the bottom of the valley was a decorative square, the town of Quimperlé. As we arrived church bells were ringing in the distance. These were then completely overwhelmed by the sound of an air raid siren. I had to pull over and get my bearings. What on earth was going on? We concluded it was a test of some sort and carried on... Very strange. Perhaps in the winter the hills get snowy and it's an avalanche warning? Got to test the sirens I guess! Happy to be corrected if anyone else knows.
Another interesting item in this town was the river they had running through the centre of it. Firstly, they had a barrier that would lift and drop dependant on flood water. Secondly, it had down the side of the barrier, some steps which water flowed down. This was named a "salmon ladder" and was so that salmon (and other athletic fish) could swim past the barrier and up river. The simple solutions are often the most successful...
We arrived at the campsite at peak time and promptly hid under an umbrella giving shade awaiting the owners to return and relieve us of our euros. An English guest using the wifi gave us a lecture on the different types of caravan brakes. Silly Americans and their fire catching electrics.
We got checked in and went to find the pitch with the most shade. A theme that has come to dominate our time here. Once settled on an area with a big tree, we decided to make use of the facilities and heat. We showered, washed our used clothes by hand, and hung them to dry.
At this point all that was left was to set up camp and work out what we were going to do with the remainder of the day. We studied our onward route, knowing that tomorrow would be our last day together.
Tomorrow we head back north to Carhaix-plouger, where we had stayed the first night. From here I had two days to make it down to near Brest and back up to Roscoff. David would then head east and plot a route towards Cherbourg. Plans had been made. What is that I hear you ponder? Twice the blog posts? Perhaps if you ask nicely.
So the remainder of the day falls to sun drenched dinner (very large four cheese pizza bread), constant rehydration (at least 1.5 litres since we got here), and this post. I worried with little interesting scenery today there would be nothing to write about. But then again we did go to decathlon.
A nicer note to end on, the pond here in the campsite has a resident copyu! David had told me to look out for one on the canals. Described to me as a rat beaver. A reaver. Brings back scary memories of mass effect...
"Firefly had them first" - David
We went to bed (separately) last night on the agreement we would wake up early and get moving before the sun had time to come up fully and make our cycling lives a misery.
We left camp at 9.30, roughly an hour or so later than we'd planned. Good start. However breakfast was almond croissant laced with powdered sugar, which was fantastic. We already knew that the cycle today wouldn't be as picturesque as previous days, as we now had to rely on roads rather than canal paths. Unfortunately this also meant stopping periodically to work out if we were going the right way. French roads are confusing! Everyone goes round roundabouts the wrong way.
The first highlight (notable event, we weren't really celebrating) was pulling over just after a moped and a police car parked on the side of the road. We'd stopped to check we were going the right way and not about to end up on a motorway. It turns out the owner (or maybe not) of the moped was to be carted off by the police, leaving his distressed (I assume) girlfriend on her own with said moped. I assume he's now in the Bastille awaiting a beheading.
We soldiered on in search of a town called Lorient. There was one primary objective in our minds. The holy grail and Mecca of any active hobbyist. The pièce de résistance of retail outlets. DECATHLON!
Our journey bore two fruit. David needed new trainers, his old ones beginning to resemble something you would expect to be pulled from the sea on the end of a fishing hook. David finally decided on the pair he'd like to own, and then quickly swapped them for a pair on sale as they were asics. It also turned out they were cheaper than advertised, so win win. I bought some new cleats as mine are slowly falling to bits. Exciting stuff.
We left decathlon and had a moment of silence for David's old shoes. He spared them no grace or mercy, instead throwing them directly in to the first bin outside the shop door. What a send off. Hardly a proper Shoeneral.
We carried on out of town on what reminded me of the A32. Nice surroundings but a lot of lorries wanting the space you are currently occupying. This combined with the heat, made for frequent breaks. David had resorted to listening to a Star wars dramatisation, getting on his own back on me laughing to myself and being distracting. David's notes read: "Luke drives dangerously to win a race. Leia gets people killed because she can't keep her mouth shut about the death star." Doesn't sound very funny to me. I do wonder about him.
We marched on toward the town of Bannalec. Eloquently now known to us as bananaleg. Its the small things that keep you sane, as you approach thirty miles in thirty degree heat. We stopped for lunch, cowered under some shade given off by a tall bush, under which a bench was conveniently placed.
We did at one point get treated to a lovely long downward section, which snaked round trees and rocks as we descended in to a valley. At the bottom of the valley was a decorative square, the town of Quimperlé. As we arrived church bells were ringing in the distance. These were then completely overwhelmed by the sound of an air raid siren. I had to pull over and get my bearings. What on earth was going on? We concluded it was a test of some sort and carried on... Very strange. Perhaps in the winter the hills get snowy and it's an avalanche warning? Got to test the sirens I guess! Happy to be corrected if anyone else knows.
Another interesting item in this town was the river they had running through the centre of it. Firstly, they had a barrier that would lift and drop dependant on flood water. Secondly, it had down the side of the barrier, some steps which water flowed down. This was named a "salmon ladder" and was so that salmon (and other athletic fish) could swim past the barrier and up river. The simple solutions are often the most successful...
We arrived at the campsite at peak time and promptly hid under an umbrella giving shade awaiting the owners to return and relieve us of our euros. An English guest using the wifi gave us a lecture on the different types of caravan brakes. Silly Americans and their fire catching electrics.
We got checked in and went to find the pitch with the most shade. A theme that has come to dominate our time here. Once settled on an area with a big tree, we decided to make use of the facilities and heat. We showered, washed our used clothes by hand, and hung them to dry.
At this point all that was left was to set up camp and work out what we were going to do with the remainder of the day. We studied our onward route, knowing that tomorrow would be our last day together.
Tomorrow we head back north to Carhaix-plouger, where we had stayed the first night. From here I had two days to make it down to near Brest and back up to Roscoff. David would then head east and plot a route towards Cherbourg. Plans had been made. What is that I hear you ponder? Twice the blog posts? Perhaps if you ask nicely.
So the remainder of the day falls to sun drenched dinner (very large four cheese pizza bread), constant rehydration (at least 1.5 litres since we got here), and this post. I worried with little interesting scenery today there would be nothing to write about. But then again we did go to decathlon.
A nicer note to end on, the pond here in the campsite has a resident copyu! David had told me to look out for one on the canals. Described to me as a rat beaver. A reaver. Brings back scary memories of mass effect...
"Firefly had them first" - David
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