Even tho I wasn’t uncomfortable I didn’t get much sleep, at least until about 4:30 in the morning.  The last couple of dreams I had involved waking up right as we docked in Poole, and having to madly rush trying to get all my stuff together.  When I did wake up and they were getting things ready for breakfast in the cafe I looked at the time on my ipad and it said it was 6:30 – only ½ hour to docking!  

I rushed to the washroom and did a super-quick sponge bath, brushed my teeth and combed my hair (getting pretty long now – ha ha).  By the time I settled down and thought about it I realized that I was still going by France time, and the ferry was scheduled to dock at 7:00 am England time which is one hour behind – no need to panic after all.

There was quite a lineup at the cafe and since I only wanted coffee I plunked a pound coin into a machine – it took the coin but didn’t give me my coffee.  The lady at the cafe told me to go to the information desk so I did – the person that handles refunds wasn’t there yet so I went outside to take a couple of photos.

By the time I went back in the refund lady was there and didn’t ask any questions – I presume the machine eats a lot of coins.  I didn’t want to risk losing another battle with the machine so I stood in line at the cafe and got a large black coffee. I grabbed several little creams, then added the last packet of honey that I’d taken from the hotel breakfast yesterday.  I put the coffee in my metal water bottle to keep it hot and ate the package of dried bread that I’d also filched from the hotel in Mortain.

After my delicious breakfast (not!!) I went out on deck again – the coast as we neared Poole is very pretty, with white cliffs similar to Dover but not quite so high.  

I was the first passenger down to the car deck and got the bike loaded up. The older couple arrived shortly after, but the younger fellow that also had a bike hadn’t shown up by the time we disembarked.

My GPS led me rather well to the start of my programmed route but then seemed to lose me a couple of times.  I asked directions from a very nice man on a bike, and the GPS found me again – it led me out of the city along some very nice cycling/walking paths, then some quiet back roads to the town of Blandford.

As I was walking my bike across a pedestrian bridge an older gentleman said that he’d noticed my Cdn flag on my camera case and told me that his son and daughter-in-law live in Clearwater!  We chatted for a couple of minutes, then I continued on into the centre of town to get some cash from a machine and grab a cup of tea.

As I was finishing my tea the older gentleman passed by and we said hello again – I bought some nice cold water to fill up my other bottle, then was on my way again.  It took a couple of tries to get on the right road, and it was a pretty busy one. Most of the cars gave me a bit of room, or slowed down until it was safe to pass me, but a couple cut it pretty close – I could feel the breeze of their passing.

The GPS eventually led me onto a very quiet side road that went past fields with lots of sheep.  It started to rain, but wasn’t that cold unless I was going downhill. It almost seemed to be taking me in a circle, but did end up again on a more main road.  There was one point where the road diverged and one sign said Shaftsbury and the other Salisbury – the GPS didn’t seem too clear so I took the left road towards Shaftsbury.

After going down a fairly steep hill it suddenly indicated that I was ‘off course’ so I turned around and pedaled slowly back up and then took the right-hand road.  After going down that steep hill for a bit it indicated once again that I was off course! I ended up walking the bike back up to the junction, very frustrated, and took the left road again.

Of course, once I’d gone down a bit, I was – you guessed it – off course again!!  How can I be off course on both roads?? I turned the GPS off and just kept going, following the signs towards Shaftsbury.

After a bit I came across a pull-out with a couple of trucks and a car, and asked one fellow what the town I could see in the distance was.  He verified that it was Shaftsbury, but when I asked if there was a train station there he said no – I would have to go to Gillingham to get a train, but it wasn’t that much further.  He warned me to be careful on the way down ‘Zig Zag Hill’ and I’m glad I took his advice.

As it was almost all downhill the ride into Shaftsbury wasn’t too bad, and I followed the signs with no problem to the road that went to Gillingham.  I stopped at one point and asked for directions to the train station, which ended up being very easy to find.

The fellow at the station was very nice and checked out several different connections to find me the best and least expensive one.  I boarded only about 5 minutes later, and went to Salisbury, where I got on a second train after about 15 minutes going to Bristol. All of the train employees I encountered where extremely nice and helpful, which almost made up for how expensive the ticket was compared to the trains in Italy.

I had to wait a bit in Bristol for the next train so took the time to grab a sandwich – as I was sitting on a bench next to the train track a seagull landed near me and seemed to be eyeing my food.  I could believe it when the cheeky thing actually hopped on the bench beside me and tried to grab the wrapper and fly away with my lunch!  I grabbed it back and the bird just sat there waiting for me to let my attention wander so he could have another go at it.  

Luckily this train was the last one for me today, as I had to stand beside my bike the whole journey because the area wasn’t large enough to get the bike into properly.  A couple of hours later I was in Worcester – tired but almost ‘home’.

I asked a taxi driver outside the station how to get to Tolladine Road and he said to just follow the alley that was straight ahead and I’d be there – turn right to go north.  He neglected to mention that at the end of the alley there was a very steep staircase down to the road, but I managed it without too much trouble.

Once I reached Colin’s house – the key worked this time! – I unloaded the paniers and my camera and headed directly to the store to get some food.  When I was back from stocking up I cooked some fresh pasta and sauce, and made a nice greek salad and chowed down – so good.

I was really, really tired – I had ridden over 65 km in all, with a fair amount of baggage – not that far for a ‘serious’ rider, but for me it was pretty good.  I’m kind of disappointed in myself that I didn’t try to go another day or two before hopping on a train, but overall feel good about today’s ride, and it’s great to be back in Worcester.

 

I had a not-bad sleep until about 3:00 in the morning when I woke up and I don’t think I went back to sleep until after 7:00 – I guess I’m a bit nervous about the next couple of days.

We had a decent breakfast, although the tea was sub-par – had to wash the taste away with a cafe-au-lait.  There’s a hotel cat that’s very friendly and not afraid of anything. When we were leaving the underground parking at the back the cat was lying right in the middle of the lane out and didn’t move an inch – Colin had to swing wide around her to get out.

We got back to Tony and Helen’s around 10:30 and had a better cup of tea and a bit of conversation before loading my bike up and hitting the road north/northwest again.

We went thru Vire, then stopped in St. Lo for a walk around – there’s a beautiful statue of a unicorn in the main pedestrian area in the centre of town, and a WWII memorial that used to be the main entrance to a large, very old prison.  We stopped at a cafe for a drink, then back on the road again.

We’re in the area of the beaches where the Allies landed on D-Day and there’s a very large memorial to them in general, and the Americans specifically, in the town of Sainte-Mere-Eglise that’s very close to Utah Beach.  We got out to have a look but the main area is fenced off and you have to pay to get in – we decided to just walk around the rest of the square a bit. Colin said he’ll visit tomorrow on his way back from dropping me off.

There’s a large church that was the site of a minor tragedy on the day the American 82nd Airborne paratroopers landed – one of them got tangled up on the steeple of the church and the nazis shot him to death as he hung there unable to get untangled.  They now have a model of him, parachute and all, hanging there. Taking and holding the town was key to protecting Utah Beach so the main force could land safely.

That part of the town is, unfortunately, quite touristy – there’s even a child’s carousel with Snow White on it – Disney was part of D-Day??  I don’t think so – very tacky…. I did go inside the church and some of the stained glass windows were beautiful – they depicted various things, including one that has some paratroopers along with Mary and baby Jesus.

On our way again it started to rain off and on – sometimes quite hard, although by then we weren’t far from Cherbourg.  We found the hotel Colin had booked for himself for tonite, then located the ferry terminal for me. To kill some time we went to McDonald’s to use their wi-fi, although the signal was very weak.

Since I wasn’t boarding the ferry for a few hours Colin checked into his hotel – again very weak signal on the wi-fi so can’t load any photos or anything.  I tried to have a nap for about an hour but didn’t actually sleep – really just rested my eyes. We left for the ferry terminal before 8:30 – as we were unloading my bike from the rack a man walked up and said he was Ukranian (I think) and did we know where Tourlaville was?  We tried to show him on the map book but then Colin suggested he wait until I was sure my ticket was ok, etc, then he’d key it into his GPS and lead the guy there – it’s actually where Colin’s hotel is at.

My ticket was all ok, even though almost everything that printed out was in the name of Ms. Colin B….instead of my name.  Said goodbye to Colin and Mo – already looking forward to seeing them again.

As soon as I saw two cyclists moving at the head of the waiting cars I left the terminal and a British campervan let me go in front of them.  The ride to the ferry was quite long – probably almost 1 km (at least it seemed like it). Had a bit of a wait with the other two cyclists – an older couple, as well as several motorcyclists.  They had all been booked onto an earlier ferry to Portsmouth that was cancelled for some mechanical reason, so now they are going to a port that’s well west of where they wanted to be.

We got to board right after a couple of semi-trucks, and were some of the first ones on the passenger deck.  I chose a nice lounge-type chair to start with, but moved to a large comfy bench in the cafe area right in front of the tv that was showing the England-Colombia game.  By the end of the game there must have been close to 100 people gathered around, and of course they were ecstatic with the outcome. Every goal in the shootout was loudly groaned, or cheered depending on who had scored.

I didn’t end up using the chair they made me book because I stretched out on the bench with my blankie and covered my eyes with part of my jacket that I was using as a pillow.  I asked at the bar if the tv in my area could be shut off as I was by then the only one there – he made a quick call and within a couple of minutes a young fellow came by and turned it off for me.  I had to put my earplugs in at one point because they just weren’t shutting down the music from the area further back.

 

After stopping at the post office and pharmacy we were on the road before 10:00.  We went mostly north, and a bit west around Nantes and Rennes.

Arrived at Mortain at just after 4:00 and there was a sign on the hotel that they would be open at 6:00 so we kept going north to Sourdeval and Tony and Helen’s house.  Helen met us outside and told us Tony was having a rest so we parked the car and decided to go for a walk.

The walk was delayed a bit when we saw two baby ducklings scurrying down the middle of the road away from us.  We didn’t want to chase them but there was a vehicle coming – I waved my hand and the driver slowed down but it looked like the ducklings went right under the car – I put my hand to my mouth and the driver stopped.  It turns out they duckies were ok – they ran out from under the car and over to the side of the road again.

The driver had thought he’d run over them, and seemed quite relieved that they were ok.  We then got going and went for a walk along what used to be a railroad but is now a really nice, wide smooth walking/cycling trail.  

We walked in a circle up the hill, then back down on the old track to the town, which seems very nice.  By the time we got back to the house Tony was up an about so we said hello and visited for a bit until it was near 6:00.

We stopped at the store in Sourdeval, then drove to Mortain and checked in.  There’s a large church right across the main road from the hotel that’s flying several different flags, one of which is the Maple Leaf.  

Apparently this is one of the towns that was almost completely destroyed by the Nazis in WWII – there were very few walls left standing as the Nazis made their retreat after D-Day.  Somebody needs to remind the retard in Washington about what starting a world war really entails.

Back at Tony and Helen’s we had a lovely dinner, then visited for a few hours.  Their house is beautiful and one wall of the living room is all stone with a huge fireplace.  The yard is also beautiful, with a pond, fruit trees, flowers and bushes, and a large (and very busy) bird feeder.

They also have a pure-black cat named Bunty that has only one eye.  We had to leave Mo outside the whole time because she probably would have traumatized the poor kitty.

Tony used to be a fairly serious bike rider and knows a lot about taking them apart and rebuilding them – he had a couple of things to say about my bike, although overall I think he thought it wasn’t too bad.  He also makes jewelry and has a room in the house that he uses as his bike and jewelry shop.

Rather than leaving my bike on the rack on the car at the hotel we left it at Tony and Helen’s house so it’ll be safe and we can collect it in the morning.

 

It poured rain and thundered off and on all night, then after a quiet morning at home Colin and I went to the races – not cycle races, but horses at the Luxe Hippodrome.  It was totally cool, despite being very hot. We parked and walked thru a small forest to get to the track.

Someone near the entrance was handing out free tickets to get in, which was very nice.  There were quite a few folks there already – there was a ‘beer garden’ as well as several lines of people betting.  The stands weren’t huge, but there was also a large grassy area on a hill overlooking the track.

We went first to see the horses – they’re all in one large area getting ready for their races.  Some are already trotting around the track, some are getting new shoes, and others are still in their travel carriages.

The first race started at 3:00 and they ran about every half-hour after that.  I didn’t do any betting, but if anyone wanted to make money on which one was going to lose they could go with my pick to win – I guess the colour of the jockey’s jersey isn’t the most scientific way to choose.

We watched several races – the prizes seem fairly large considering how small the venue and crowd is – the pot for one race alone was 18,000 euros.  

Even though the stands weren’t full there were several (rather fat) people that sat themselves down on the stairs – other people were having to step around and almost over them to get up or down – I really didn’t understand why they didn’t just slide their fat butts over a bit, but there you go.

We left about half-way thru – there were some horses warming up with only a rider and no cart but we didn’t stay for those races.

Stopped at the Penalty Bar on the way home, then had a really nice roast chicken and potato dinner.  Tried to get to bed a little earlier than usual as we want to get started at a decent time tomorrow.

 

Got a bit of a late start, following another route that I’d plotted several days ago.  Went west to Cellette, then on to Villognon. I purposely went off course a bit there, as last time the GPS had me going in circles in the town, but I knew the next village was Luxe so I took the first road I saw that went there.

Eventually I got back ‘on course’ and ended up going past the Lac du Saules and on into La Terne.  By now the wind had really started to pick up, but I kept going to Ligne, where the route went south.  At one point it seemed that if I stopped pedalling the wind would actually drive me backwards – it was really hard going.

The main road bends and goes south thru Villesoubis, then it was mostly downhill until just before Chateaurenaud.

Up and thru the ‘village’, then down the hill and over the two bridges to St. Groux.  I was gone a little longer than I thought I would be, but it was a good ride.

Had a shower and a nice cup of tea, then Colin, Mo and I went down to the campground restaurant for a lunch of hot camembert on toast – it was actually really good.

After lunch we went up to Ruffec for groceries, then Colin went to the auto-license place and got a new plate for the bike-rack on the car.  I couldn’t believe it – after 10 minutes or less he had an actual plate made. Stopped by Claire’s house for a quick hello – Mo was super excited to see Claire’s dog Harvey, who is crazy about playing fetch-the-ball.  

On the way out of Ruffec Colin took me to Le Rejallant, which is a place on the Charent River that has a small waterfall, waterwheel and lovely park area.  There’s an old chateau or fort right above it that looks like it’s getting some work done.

The water is apparently of very good quality – there were lots of kids swimming, as well as some fairly large fish.

Saturday I planned to go for a ride while Colin was out with the club again, but at the last minute I changed my mind and stayed home with Mo and did yoga.  The day got hotter and hotter and the wind was, once again very strong.

Later in the afternoon we walked down to the campground bar intending to watch the France-Argentina game but a couple of guys that were already there were honking some incredibly loud and irritating horns so we went back up to the Penalty Bar instead.

There were quite a few people there – Neil joined us a bit later.  Luckily France won – and it was a much better game than the one the other night that England purposely lost.  Mo was, as usual, the centre of attention – other than the game, that is. She had red, white and blue stripes on her head and back – obviously a France fan!

After returning home for an hour or so Colin and I walked back down to the kebab shop next door to the bar – I’d gone past it almost every day and wanted to try it.  We both got a donair wrap with fries, and I must say it was pretty good – I’ll probably go there again sometime.

There’s a large set of gates on the way to-and-from the bar that were actually open – I’d never seen inside them before.  You can never tell what a place is really like behind the cement or stone walls, and is this one ever nice – it’s a huge yard with many trees, a pond and a swimming pool.  It looks like nothing from the outside, and I was very surprised by the size of it, in addition to the beauty – and I bet the pool is especially nice on a hot day like this.

 

I plotted a slightly different route from the other day into my GPS, still going as far as St Front but taking a bit of a different way back.  I was on the road around 9:15 and faced a fairly stiff headwind most of the way there. Coming back I diverted from the planned route at Mouton because from there I knew where I was and just followed the main road instead of going back up into the hills.

I was mistaken when I had thought that the GPS would re-calculate the route based on where I am if I took a wrong turn – it doesn’t.  It simply tells me I’m ‘off course’ and shows me which direction I’m going. It will show the actual route I should be on if it’s within about a km or so from where I am, but otherwise I’m on my own.

While I was out the mayor had visited Colin – to remind him that he needed to keep access to the area behind the hairdresser’s next door open in case a car need to get back there (as if!!).  Apparently someone had complained about him parking both his campervan and his car too close to the building or something. Colin showed him the plans for installing a gate, etc so he can park his car under the house, and was informed that he would have to get ‘planning permission’.

I got home in plenty of time to shower and relax for a bit before we headed out for lunch.  We went to La Cagouille in VillaJesus where we met some friends of Colin’s – Sandy and Roger.

They are a really nice British couple – I met Sandy briefly last year, but she hadn’t been feeling well that day so only met her through her gate – and her four yorkies, including little ‘Kissy’.

There were two choices for each of the 3 courses – we all chose the green salad with cucumber (with yogurt dressing) for appetizer, and shrimp for the main course.  It was so good!! Probably my favourite meal so far this year. The restaurant, which we came to last year also, is not very large, but the chef, Stephane, is superb.  Simone, the waitress, is not actually his wife – I must have known that from last year but forgot. I think that all but one of the couples here for lunch were British.

After lunch we drove down to Angouleme so Colin could confirm the date, etc. for bringing the campervan in to get the wiring fixed.  Then we hit the Leroy Merlin store so he could talk with them about the size of the motorized gate, etc for the house.

We see the occasional ‘shell sign’ for the Camino de Santiago in some villages – part of the French Route goes thru this area.  You could follow it all the way down into Spain to Santiago if you wanted.

We were both still so stuffed from lunch that we didn’t have dinner.  Watched the ho-hum game between England and Belgium – losing on purpose seems like a bit of a dumb thing to do when you’re at the World Cup, but I guess they have a strategy – hope it doesn’t backfire on them.

Instead of going for a pre-planned ride this morning I decided to explore Mansle a bit and see where some of the side roads went.  Several of the ones to the west of the main road are dead-ends so after going up and down a couple I followed one going north that runs parallel to the main road.  

Mansle isn’t quite a big as I thought it was – it wasn’t long before I had to merge back on to the main road, which I followed north for a couple of km.  I came across a side road that cut east over to St Groux so I followed it into the village.

I went past the old church and rode thru a really nice park and along a path next to the river for awhile, then that kind of ended so I back-tracked to the village.

At the old church I continued north for a bit past a field of sunflowers.  Last week when I went by that field there wasn’t a single flower open, but now there is a sea of bright yellow – just glorious!

Back at Mansle I had a nice shower and a quick bite to eat before heading down to join Colin in the club van for another cycle club ride.  The riders were still gathering when we arrived so we went across the street to the bar to wait.

Today’s ride for them was a bit shorter than last week’s – only 70km this time.

The route they followed was similar at times to one I took earlier in the week going to St. Front.  

They continued on past the village, at one point going thru Chasseneuil, which is in an area that had very strong resistance during WWII, and has a large memorial site.

I must say that most people back in North America don’t really have any idea what it must have been like during either of the ‘great wars’.  We take history class in school and learn a bit of stuff – at least in Canada, although I’m not sure what they learn in the US – but they really have no clue.  I spent some time in Belgium when I was in my twenties and visited many cemeteries and some very pivotal battle sites near Ypres, etc, and was very deep touched – something that has stayed with me ever since.  So when I hear a super fucking dickhead like Trump dissing Canada and our allies in early June – it must have been right around the D-Day anniversary – it makes me sick. Such ignorance and lack of humanity – how do the people who work for him, not to mention the assholes that voted for him look themselves in the mirror and tell themselves that they are good people??  It beggars belief! When you live in a town or area that was basically decimated in one of the World Wars, and hear and see what Trump is doing (with the silence of his enablers) you can’t help but see echos of Hitler – who is going to stop him?? But – I digress….

When we could see that one of the young riders was tiring and lagging behind we pulled in front of him and he gratefully put his bike in the van and hopped in with us.  A couple of the others refilled their water bottles from larger ones that we’d brought, then caught up to the rest.

All of the others made it to the end, and it was darn hot by then, in addition to quite fierce winds.  After the ride was finished I walked Mo back to the house while Colin returned the van and picked up his car.  We met him back down at the bar, then waited until Neil got home from work and joined us.

Colin offered me a deal – if I paid for the drinks he’d buy me lunch tomorrow – and I know where we’re going so I immediately agreed.

 

Another sunny, but windy day – I stayed home in the morning and did yoga with Mo while Colin went out to do some business.  I had a bit of a challenge with the door to the deck when I tried to let Mo out – no matter what I did it wouldn’t open. I thought maybe Colin had locked it when he left and none of the keys on the table would open it.  There was, however, a set of french doors – with the keys in the lock – so I opened the floor-length curtains and got one of those open. I had to lift Mo up and over the flower pot that was sitting outside, but it worked.  I also opened the large window in front of the sink so we had good airflow.

After Mo came in and out again a couple of times I closed the french door.  A little while later I happened to look up above it and noticed that the curtain rod wasn’t even – I climbed up on a chair and saw that part of the left side where it was attached to the wall had come out of the wall and was barely hanging by one screw.  I thought ‘oh no – I’ve gone and broken yet another thing!’.

By the time Colin got back I had kind of forgotten about the curtain rod, although I did notice that he didn’t have to unlock the door to get in.  Later in the afternoon we walked down to the campground bar (the other one is closed on Mondays) for a couple of glasses.

At one point we heard a loud engine coming down the very narrow street towards us and wondered if a big truck was trying to squeeze thru, but it wasn’t a truck it was a tractor pulling a camper, followed shortly by another.  They were so funny looking, and they had come all the way from Germany, judging by the license plates. Not travelling on the autobahns, that’s for sure!

Back at home while I was reading, I noticed Neil fiddling with the curtain rod above the french doors – he was pounding in the top screw on the left side so it would hang straight again.  I asked, casually, if perhaps I had caused it to come down when I opened the curtain, then when I began to tell what had happened I blurted out the whole story about not being able to get the front door open and all.  We all got quite a good laugh out of it – the rod coming loose wasn’t actually my fault – it had happened before, and the door not opening was because the small floor mat had gotten wedged in it and you had to really pull (or push) to move it.

Tuesday morning we went down to the bar for a coffee – I went for a ‘coffee creme’ this time instead of a cappuccino and it was great (once I added some honey from the tiny jar I keep in my camera case).  There were three english couples inside the bar just finishing their morning coffees – we sat down with them and chatted for a bit. I believe I met them last year at the dinner that the bar put on one night.

After coffee we hopped in the beemer and went up to St. Soline to the charity shop again.  Colin donated two beautiful bikes – one a brilliant indigo blue/purple, and the other bright pink.  We picked up a few more books then had a cup of tea. Mo, of course, got the attention of a couple of other folks, who turned out to be british – there are a lot of brits in this area.  We visited with them for awhile, mostly talking about dogs/pets.

In the evening Colin and I walked down to the campground restaurant for dinner – we both got burgers that came with fries and a small salad.  It was pretty good – lots of cheese on the burger, and the fries weren’t greasy. I probably shouldn’t have scarfed the whole thing down but I did – I was so stuffed I could barely move.

Today went on a road trip.  Got on the way around 9:45 or so, and headed west to Saint-Jean-D’Angely then southwest to Saint-Savinien.  

There was a regional cycle race happening there so we drove around the town a bit trying to find a place for a coffee – lots of people but nothing open.  There were some of sculptures on the sidewalk on the road next to the river..

I know it’s Sunday, but it seemed to us that, with so many people in town, it would be great for local businesses to have a few things open – a cafe or two could have done fantastic business.  We gave up and continued on to Port d’Envoux, which was full of families and hikers – we figured there was some sort of hiking club having an event there were so many of them.

Again – nothing open other than a riverside snack-bar and a couple of restaurants that wouldn’t serve just a coffee or a glass of wine – you must have a full meal.  I suggested that we could mingle in the park where there were some tables set up and pretend to be with one of the families, but I was only kidding (well – kind of…).

In a park there was a memorial to the wars along with several sculptures lining the road.  Astrix is a big local hero – he resisted the Romans but was eventually captured and sent to Rome, where it didn’t end well for him.

We hopped back in the beemer and drove just a short ways to ‘Les Lapidiales Sculptures’ – wow – just wow.  Many of the sculptures were done on the walls of the hillside, both outside and inside the cave, and there were also free-standing ones.

Some of them looked fairly old, and some were still being done.  I really, really liked many of them, and really, really didn’t like others.  

I guess, like any kind of art, it’s subjective, but some of them were rather dismal and depressing, despite the obvious talent it took to make them or story they were portraying.

After spending some time there, we continued on to Saintes, which was a large enough place that we finally found some open cafes, etc.  The Charente River is quite large here, being so much closer to the ocean, and there was a nice promenade with cafes, and boats (for tourists) – even a miniature train that goes around the town.

We picked a cafe right across from the old Roman ‘Arc de Triomph’ and sat down, finally, for some beverages and sustenance.  We both had pasta with salmon, which came with a small green salad and a few fries. I especially liked that it was served in bamboo dishes – if you wanted to take it home you just flipped the salad ‘bowl’ on top of the pasta one and it became a lid.

The GPS took us on a completely different route home, but it was equally as beautiful – somewhat flatter than around Mansle, but still very agricultural with fields of barley, sunflower and corn, along with the occasional cow herd.  Along the way we passed a place that had three large teepees in it – some sort of campground, I think.

Before going home we stopped at the local campground bar for a quick drink – the restaurant and bar seemed to be doing a brisk business, even though it was still fairly early.  There was a cricket game being played at the far end of the hippodrome, but we didn’t go to watch.  Went home and had a really nice baked chicken and roast potato dinner.

 

Walked down to the main square around 9:30 to meet Colin – he’d left earlier to pick up the cycling club’s van for a ride today.  It took me awhile to get on the way – I just could not find the right key to lock the door. I had to message Colin about my dilemma and he said to just close the door and the gate and come on down – after all the ferocious guard dog was staying at home so no one would dare enter (and Colin had the key).

There ended up being two groups going out – the very little ones went one way, but we were following the older ones – four boys along with their coach Michele and another adult, an englishman, Paul.

They rode first of all south a bit, to where they were doing an individual time trial.  Colin and I parked about half-way around the course where a side road into a village met the road they were using for the TT.  

We stood at the corner to warn any cars coming out that there were riders on the road – and we were actually useful.  A small car was coming out just as a rider was about to round the corner – we motioned for them to stop and they did – rider was safe and the folks in the car were perfectly happy at being stopped for him to pass.

After their TT the riders went for a small tour about the area, then back to Mansle.  I walked home while Colin returned the van to the garage.  At around 2:00 we drove over to Michele’s house and met his wife Florence – they are going to stay in Colin’s house in Papiano when they vacation in Italy next month.  We visited for awhile and showed them photos of the house and the village from my ipad and left them the keys.  They have a lovely house with a fairly large yard and garden – very peaceful and beautiful.

When we got home we found the Miss Mo-Mo had left a protest ‘business’ on the floor – she had really wanted to come with us!  We walked down to the bar for a glass, followed that up with a walk further to the campground bar, watched a bit of footie, then back to the first bar.  Mo especially likes the first bar as she always gets treats there, but people make a fuss over her no matter where we are.

Back home we had lasagna for dinner, then I face-timed Dominic.  I saw (and heard) both of the kitties – Sly purrs as loud as a motorboat, and Merlin squeaks like a large mouse.  Both are demanding combs and cuddles twice as much from Dominic since I’m not there – miss them all!