The 5^th Day

            I awoke on the 6^th day with fond memories of the 5^th day of travel.  Barely a whisper of wind bothered the night.  The gales of the day had ebbed away like the evening tide.  Slim slivers of clouds shuttered the silvery moon hanging in the early sky.

            St. Lumine, St. Mars-de-Coutais, Port St. Pere, le Pellerin, Coueron, St. Etienne-de-Montluc, Cordemais, Bouee, and Savenay hung like pearls dangling from a large rosary.  A small ferry gave transport across the Loire from le Pellerin to Coueron.  

            The question is always why.  The lady at the desk in St. Philbert thought that I was crazy.  The response is not Sir Edmund Hilary’s answer, “Because it is there.”  Two words come immediately to mind, elemental and unique.  Walking would be more primitive which I am coming closer to trying.  I am reading “Outlander,” a fanciful novel filled with fanciful sex about a young lady transported from 1946 back 200 years.  When given a chance to return she refuses.  She debates the modern times with cars and planes and all of the conveniences with the more primitive and chooses the latter.  In her case, the olden days are better, less is more.

            My grandson Gunnar has an array of toys that he enjoys very much.  Yet he retreats to the outside digging in the soil, playing with ropes and bungees, and moving stones.  His Dad is forever returning stones to their “rightful” location. 

            Cutting the necessities to the bare bone is the allure.  At different stores I might buy one apple, two bananas, ten cherries, or four apricots.  And still I carry more than I need.  I have not used the plate, a large bowl, and several food containers.  Why?  Because I “might” need them just like my big life is filled with things that I “might” need.  Oh, I wish for the will power to whittle away these non-essentials.  But like St. Augustine, not right now!

            Now I defy you to find another male American traveling like this.  I am seeing France as no other.  There are towns never visited by an American.  Few Europeans are touring by cycle and then usually in pairs.  Yesterday I encountered a single woman riding toward me with a loaded bicycle and a French couple from Lyon at the ferry.  This helps establish me as a person.  I know that I am more than that but this adds flesh to the bone.

            I remain forever thankful to the French people who take time to help.  Yesterday in Bouee I was concerned about camping and I hailed a cyclist hurdling by.  Without hesitation he wheeled his carbon fiber bike around and offered help.  Not knowing about camping himself he led the way into a Bar-Restaurant where he turned me over to the manager.  The gracious lady checked the map and offered two suggestions.  Another lady overhearing the struggle with language came over to offer her assistance.  Together we decided the better choice would be Savenay, 5 kms away.  Incidentally, a funeral was taking place across the road in the village church.  My colleague Tom’s service is today.  He had asked for a small family only service.  This was so much like Tom who disliked large displays and believe me the number wanting to attend would have been overflowing.

            Savenay was the first hill town on this trip.  Towns in France are either tucked next to a river for commerce or isolated on hilltops for defense.  The rise was so steep that I was forced to push the bike up the hill.  I do not remember a climb this steep and long since St. Lo.  The campground was another 2 kms out of town.  The road undulated like a roller coaster with a final rise at the campground.  An attendant led the way up another rise to the site.  With lower sites to be had this could amount to elder abuse. 

            After showering I rode back into town.  There I bought cheese, chicken breast, tomato, bread, and beer.  Back at the campground I sliced and diced to make sandwiches washed down with deliciously cold beer.

            There is one last comment before leaving you for today.  Sleep has been plentiful.  I have been tucking myself in before nine and usually raising around seven intermingled with a few trips to the privy.

            Life is good.  Enjoy every minute!!!

Much joy!!!
Hardy