Notes from the Vélo : Chapitre Trois

Have you read Chapter Two?

Day 5
72.25 km
Olivet --> Blois
     Two funny things happened this day.

1. 1) I patched up the tube on the inside of my tire 3 more times before I considered checking it for something sharp. Bingo! After that, no more flat tires.
2. 2) I made an old man friend named Gerard. (this one requires a little more explanation than the premier.)

     After I finally fixed my frustratingly frequent flat tire funk I was feeling on top of the world. My tires were holding air, it wasn't raining, AND everything around me was absolutely stunning. I lightheartedly put on some musique to sing along to as I rode. Thanks to this, an elderly man thought that I was talking to him and caught up to see what I wanted. He realized quickly that my accent was not french and asked where I was from.
     Gerard's response to me saying I was from U.S.A. was that there was a bench I needed to see. I wasn't sure if I was understanding him properly, regardless, I accepted without question. It was my fifth day of traveling alone. At this point, I was stopping to chat with the snails crossing the path. In other words, I was ecstatic to have someone to talk to. With my limited french and childish curiosity about french culture, I felt like a young girl talking to her grandfather. Thanks to this, I now understand at what time one stops saying bonjour (good day) and starts saying bonsoir (good evening).
     When we arrived at the bench, I was proud of my french comprehension yet unsure how to react to an ordinary bench. However, he was thrilled to show me a little plaque with an American woman's name on it so I asked him to take my photo with the bench. While this was happening, four more elderly french folks came along with stories to share about this wonderful American woman who had lived in their village.

     Their stories probably could have gone on for hours but then Gerard invited me to the cimetière to see the woman's gravestone. Why not? We've come this far. This presented another situation where I wasn't quite sure how to act. His shock at the lack of flowers on her gravestone didn't pass after a minute or even five. As the sun was starting to set I started to think about how I didn't know where I was sleeping that night. I needed to act quick without disrespecting this wonderful woman who had passed. Enfin, I offered to give him some money to bring her flowers another day. Gerard refused my money but promised to bring her flowers every time he passed by the cemetery.
     I found this really touching. I'm sure this happens everywhere in the world, however, it was my first time to see it. I'm more familiar with the scene of busy people rushing to point B. While here people get benches and their stories told just for being a sweet lady that smiled at her neighbors.
     Gerard biked with my all the way to Blois to make sure that I found the tourism office without problems. I found that Blois had all the charm of Paris with far less people. It was like a dream.

I walked on this surreal path because from further away I thought it might have been a painting.

Day 6
54.49 km
 Blois --> Chaumont Sur Loire
     On Thursday I rode for about an hour before I took my first break. I was resting under a tree to let some dark clouds pass by when a couple saw me and stopped to wait out the clouds with me. These people just so happened to be on a mission to bike across the world. Yep here's their site. http://www.nowhere2far.com/
 After they left I was so excited thinking about their excursion that I misread the bike trail signs and started following a different bike trail. Before I knew it I was in the middle of "Le Foret de Russy." When I finally managed to find a sign in this massive forest, there was no trace of the river, or any of my destination towns. Because it's no good to bike when frustrated, I stopped to clear my head and have a picnic before turning back. Finding my center was easy here as I was in an astonishing forest but more importantly a parade of 20 - 30 Penny farthing's passed through the woods.
     The good part about retracing your steps is that you have a second chance to experience the little things you missed. What I had missed the first time around was a sign suggesting to stop for a rest. Although well rested from my picnic, I followed the signs and discovered a garage covered in thank you messages. There were paintings, chalk boards, papers, etches in the walls, EVERYBODY was grateful. Also there was juice, water, cookies, crackers, tea, and a coffee machine. The only thing not in this garage was people. Of course that didn't stop me, I drank a full pot of coffee and ate about 3 cookies before I found a man, a woman, and a grandma. For people who invite strangers into their garage for coffee, they were surprisingly reserved.

     Of course it's annoying to get lost, waste time, and bike extra kilometers, but had this not happened, I wouldn't have met Estelle et Sebastian. I saw them just in front of me as I approached the intersection where I got lost before. I was scared of making the same mistake, so I asked this nice Parisian couple if I could roll with them for a bit. We didn't make it far before it started pouring. Thanks to power in numbers (or maybe they were just as embarrassed to admit weakness and suggest stopping as I was) we biked on through. There was no sign of the rain letting up and it was coming down hard! Finally after about an hour we found a campsite where we immediately undressed, threw all of our clothes in the dryer, set up camp and made a quaint piquenique together.

Look, ma! I made friends!