A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.
I thought I'd take this photo as I cycled away from my breakfast spot, of the view I have in front of me on the bike. My watch to the left, the GPS, which greatly eased the problems I had last year when navigating the miriad of tiny, unsigned commune roads which I follow, and, on the right, the cycle computer for speed and distance info.
So, hilly, coarse tarmac and increasingly hot at around 35°C meant I was burning and liquid, large expanses of open wheat fields didn't help since everything seemed to move by so slowly. At one point I thought I had a problem with the bike, I could hear a popping noise that didn't seem linked to speed or pedal revolutions. It turned out to be bubbles of melting tar that I was bursting as I rode over them; that's how hot it was!
There were some long, cool, forest roads but to stop, or even slow down, meant you were swarmed with aggressive flies trying to get up your nose and in your eyes.
The forests seemed to be largely owned by abbey's, since, of course, any organisation that tries to propose a religion where poverty and charity are prized, is going to need a boat load of money to do it.
Lunch was an expensive 16€ for only 2 merguez, pork chops and potatoes, though it was very nice.