Paradoxically, resting is not always restful. Does not always refresh the body. Or mind. Our first ‘day of rest’ away from rolling, plans to do just that.
With Tournus a short 11K riverside ride away, we unload the bikes for an airing. The baked tractor flattened and rutted track produces a saddle rhythm more suited to the likes of Bronco Layne. A number of tractors are still making the cycle route and threaten to flatten us too. So 2K in we do an about turn. Decide to take the longer country lane option.
Our more comfortable route takes us into the heart of Bill & Ben-land. Millions of sun scorched sad looking ‘Little Weeds’ blanket the now heartless landscape.
An elephant hawk moth caterpillar narrowly misses getting his trunk severely truncated. He crosses our path. He’s heading for some of ickle Weed’s leaf cover. The next part of his life journey beckons.
Tournus disappoints. Partly our fault. We arrive just after 1pm. Of course the town is shut! One sane patisserie provides lunch. Deux petites quiches later we do our own tournus. Head back.
Our waterside pitch not only our home. Coffee break time catches a red squirrel as he flits along the bank. Carries a huge gob-stopper. Searches out a secret hiding place. There isn’t one. Spies us spying and flutters off. Randomly and elegantly butterflying from branch to branch. Teases my camera cover off. He’s quick. Too quick.
Our ‘day of rest’ continues. An energising hour’s table tennis and swim. Rounded off nicely with dinner in the dark – almost . . .
