Day 20 - To The Dordogne and Rain

The next day we woke relatively early, we have certainly been noticing the warmth reaching us earlier in the morning as we have travelled south.

The goal was Bergerac, and hopefully a book full of campsites for us to gaze over and plan our route from. It was going to be a short ride, definately when compared to the day before, and we hoped to enjoy an early evening of sun and good wine. The going was relatively easy, though we had to join a busy red road for a while to keep us on course. The cycling has definately gotten easier as we have travelled, and whilst we were going up and down hills quite a lot, I wasn't feeling the strain so badly.

On the simply named D8, which is so straight on the map it makes you wonder whether it wasn't a Roman road, Danny and I met myself when I'm 70. Danny was cycling ahead - it was hilly so I was slower - and as I rose over the crest of the hill behind him, I saw him talking to someone who seemed dressed exactly as I was then. The Cyclist was wearing a black and yellow helmet (like mine), a yellow wind-breaker (like mine) and had yellow covers over his panniers (as I was wearing mine). As I approached he was showing Danny the tour book he was following. After exchanging pleasantries we cycled on, but I swear that that old guy was me in 50 years. So when I´m 73 I´m going to cycle on that route at that time and on that day in the hope that I might meet myself and Danny in somekind of wierd time-loop thingy (I'm sure Donnie Darko would understand). A momentous occasion to be sure.

We arrived in Bergerac just in time for a late lunch alongside the Dordogne, and so we had hotdog sandwiches (so cheap) with cheese and salad and tomato ketchup. A good meal. Next we went looking for a bookshop and, having learnt that the book we were meant to pick up had never arrived by post, we bought our own copy of the Michelin guide. We had coffee and crepes in the square outside the church and poured over maps to find our route that would take us to the border with spain. Danny, armed with ruler and superior mathematic skill planned a route that would push ourselves to the limits, 60 miles a day through either rain, boredom or just wierd happenstance.

That evening we supped on riverbank at the municipal campsite in Bergerac, after shopping in the local Lidls and saving ourselves 10 euros on the days shop (though I was short-changed by 10, which didn't help much). 3 Litres of Orange juice made for a very happy me. Lidls allows one, if not to breakfast in style, then definately to breakfast in quantity.

Tomorrow we hoped for good weather, with perhaps a little wind, and a good start the our final push through france into Spain. We were not to be disappointed.