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A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.
Lao Tzu

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17

La Charité sur Loire

I didn't have any other photos of La Charité which was a pity since it was a nice looking town.  I was wondering about before dinner and bumped into the mancunian I'd met the night before in Briare, so I told him the way to the campsite.  When I went back later we resumed our series of interesting cycle/camping conversations, joined at one time by another brit, a young guy who was cycling from Norway to Gibraltar -doing 190km a day!

I then went in search of food with about 5 places, restaurants recommended by the campsite guardian, marked on the town plan.  The first three were closed and I got further and further away and further up the hill on which the town was built until I got to the last two, which, though open, I didn't like the food they were offering.  So, I went back to the pizzeria that was about 50 yards from the campsite!  I hadn't fancied the idea of eating pizza in France, but it was great.  Very tasty, a demi-pêche as an aperitiv, and a ppr with the food.  It was a very happy and full bunny that slept soundly that night. 

This photo was taken on the town side of the bridge the following morning and I really should have taken one from the other side showing the town itself, which was very pretty.

 

18

Quiet Roads Again

Tuesday 12th July.  La Charité to Le Veurdre: 63km, avg 14.5km/hr, max 55.4km/hr

Up at quarter to 6 and ready to go by 6.20 but I can't find the bike lock key!  Don't panic.  I unpacked everything.  I searched.  I searched again, EVERYTHING.  No key.  Searched again, no key.  OK, so find a locksmith, serrurier in french, impossible to bloody pronounce with all those 'r's, I sounded like I had a speech defect.  Since there was no one at reception until 8.00 I thought I'd walk into town in case I'd dropped the key or I came across someone I could ask about a serrurier.

I couldn't believe I'd lost it, I am so scrupulous about the ritual of alway's putting things back in their place.  So, idly walking back to the campsite, I looked again in my bumbag, just in case, and there it was, tucked up a corner.  I now keep it with my passport since it's as important.  A locked bike doesn't peddle very well.

So, a late start but thankfully much cooler, also noticeably more hilly, though it was good to going slowly enough to smell the flowers.