Hmm, cloudy this morning. Yesterday’s scoffing about a possible storm was perhaps a bit over-confident. Set off after breakfast (fed up with croissants by now) and decided to take the fastest possible route to Sully just in case it rained – we had minimal waterproofs with us.
There were a few showers on the way, until it really started raining just as we reached a tiny village. Abandoning the bikes, we shot into the only place open – the bar. The locals were knocking back kirs and pastis and, judging by the looks of astonishment we got, they don’t get much in the way of passing tourist trade.
Two coffees and hot chocolates later, the rain abated enough to allow us to belt down the road to Sully without getting soaked.
The path came out right at the chateau which was hosting a fete. Dumped the bikes at the hotel and went back to see what was going on, ignoring the light drizzle that had started. The fete turned out to have an Irish hunting theme – no idea why but there were lots of Irish flags, packs of hounds yelping in their cages, pony rides, stalls selling hunting horns, plastic deer (what for?), plastic ducks with wings that moved up and down, hideous woodcarvings, shooting equipment, country clothing, 4×4 cars etc etc. It was huge.
Unfortunately the drizzle turned into a massive downpour and we got completely soaked. I spent the evening trying to dry out my only pair of trousers with the hair dryer.
Sometimes there’s not much glamour in cycling.