A weekend on (and off) the road

After Friday night’s imposed live music event, I decided to opt for it on purpose on Saturday. An excellent 6 piece band called Treizeurs du Mat. The only way I can describe them is French ska… an eclectic ska style with added accordion! Worth a listen to. Live on stage in a little town, outside the church in what I guess is the town square. A lovely gathering of people, all brought together for the music. After the tunes stopped, I put the lights on the bike and off I rode out of the town in the darkness, to some dunes a couple of miles away. The second night running I’ve pitched the tent at night. As much as I do it, I still get the heebiejeebies, looking over my shoulder, trying not to jump at every little sound. It’s amazing what imagined safety being in one’s tent can give. I mean really, what’s a thin sheet of material gonna protect you from? Rain and wind is all. Yet I feel so much more relaxed once inside.

By the way. All I ate that day was churros. And Nutella. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, with a pear thrown in for good measure. Couldn’t even finish the bag. As delicious as they are, I’m good for churros for a while.

They say its customary to dip a wheel in the sea. This is for those doing a ‘coast to coast’ trip, so it can truly be counted. Well, I’m not really doing a coast to coast trip. But yesterday I didn’t just dip my wheel in the Atlantic. I rode through it. What a ride! The Île de Noirmoutier (Island of Noirmoutier) lies just off the west coast, and is connected to the mainland by a causeway. I reached the causeway about two hours ahead of low tide, to find a queue of people; in cars, with bikes, on foot. All waiting for the tide to go out enough for the causeway to become passable.

I feel that, if I had timed my arrival at the causeway perfectly to coincide with low tide, and ridden straight over, I would have missed this magic. What I found instead, was a crowd of people, just waiting for the sea. With patience, with anticipation. Creeping forwards bit by bit, as the sea retreated enough to allow us out. And then, the first brave pioneers venture into the water, taking the first cars or bikes over the next gap, or wading through. I held back with the majority, Heimlich being somewhat allergic to salt! But eventually, we all broke forth in a mad flurry, when the causeway cleared to just a bearable amount, and I heard people laughing as they rode through the shallows, as I realised that I was laughing too. What an experience. And to think I was going to cut off this island from my trip as a way of progressing further south.

I’ve thought a lot about this recently. I’ve put a fair bit of pressure on myself to make progress. Watching the miles, pushing to achieve something that I’d be proud to say. I ended yesterday at a trip total of 291 miles. Those last 9 miles to reach that shiny 300 goal were pushing at me until the moment I stopped. But I did decide eventually to finish for the day. So, I can’t say I rode 300 miles in 6 days. But it’s not about the numbers. I’m still trying to work out what it is about, why I’m doing this. But it’s definitely because I want to travel, I want to see the world. And I don’t want to go past it all so fast that I miss it in a blur outside a plane, or car window. I want to really be where I am.

“If you’re not where you are, then you are nowhere.”

So I found a campsite for the first time on this trip. I stopped for chips on the seafront, watched some high-jumping event in St Jean de Monts. And then decided to put the tent up. I had a shower and everything! It’s nice for once to be pitched up in the daylight, not worrying who might come across me. Although, the some of the spots I’ve camped in so far, I’d choose over a paid campsite any day. ‘All good things are wild and free’, so Mr Thoreau said.

This Toyota had been left there all night. Oops!