Day 5: Lucon. Rest day.

Photograph of a tent, washing and bicycles on a campsite in Lucon, France.

318km cycled so far. Enormously satisfying to know we have arrived under our own steam at no cost to pocket or environment, and perhaps even looked after our own health into the bargain. Even when I wish each km was the last, I still love it.

We’ve realised that we haven’t exactly planned the Spanish leg of our trip well. Google Maps very helpfully provide bike routes across France, but not Spain. We use these routes as a basic guide as to where to quiet roads and cycle paths and then plot our own on a map. I love maps. We also weren’t able to find a map of the Spanish section that is as detailed as the French maps. In essence this means that we don’t know where we’re going, how we will get there or how long it will take. And it all looks very wiggly on account of a bunch of mountains called the Pyrenees.

Photograph of a lake with a sailing boat on it in Lucon, France.

Cold, weird pizza for breakfast in our tent in the rain. Keith had a dream that Dolly Parton was sharing our tent with us. It is officially a 3 person tent, so that would be fine so long as she doesn’t have any luggage, or personal space issues. Keith and I had a difference of opinion regarding a stain on my shorts which he said was poo and that I was taking up all the space in the tent. It was mud and I was. A 6′ x 3′ home in the rain is no place for petty domestics. No food so had to go shopping. In the rain. Don’t like it here. Toilet block and one plug socket is commandeered by youth straightening their perfectly fine as it is hair. Dolly wouldn’t stand for that shit.

Photograph of Sarah standing in a field in Lucon, France.

Our day off got worse as I left my phone literally momentarily charging in the toilet block (I had been sat in view of it previously) and someone stole it. This totally threw the rest of my day, both in blocking the phone, changing passwords and generally telling people I was out of contact. And just a general disappointment that that’s just not what you do on a campsite. It was obvious we were English (adapter plug) and obvious that we have no other means of charging a phone. I’ve been camping all my life and it’s one of those places where special rules apply because you’re all in the same boat. I know; naïve and deluded, but its just not what you do.

Not a great rest day but we’re here, we’re fine and after a period of serious self-talking to; I’m over the phone.

What do you think? Please share your thoughts or comments