Flan vs Sex?

Another great bfast, then away we go with our lightened load and middle-aged angst. Today we’re heading south towards the Pointe de Trevignon for our last look at the south coast of Brittany, then we’ll head north, cutting across Brittany, hit the northern coast and proceed east towards Mont St Michel.

We head out of town up a huge hill, then have a nice easy ride south towards the coast. As we get closer you can tell you’re near the coast as the lighting changes; at least an old salt like April, who was born in Maine (as you might have heard), can tell the difference. Wow, the coast is beautiful.! Fantastic road right along the beach as we head out to the Pointe de Trevignon. Much wilder here than our previous coastlines. Much fewer people too. There are houses but it doesn’t feel crowded. Again it feels like Maine to us.

After Trevignon there’s a 3-4 KM stretch of beach backed by dunes and estuaries/marshes with no roads alongside it. We park our bikes and hike along the beach. In contrast to character, I suggest a walk about a mile down to this point we can see; while April wants to just sit. Anyway we make the hike. It turns out to be the hike from hell, as the sand was kind of coarse, and the beach was sloped so the walking was a bit of a grind. But we saw the biggest jellyfish ever, about the size of a hubcap! There were a few washed up on shore. The beach walk was a grind so we came back on a path along the marsh but that had prickers jabbing into our feet. Beauty all around us yet it came with its own special difficulties. Isn’t that just like life; everything is a package deal.

We bid farewell to the southern coast then headed directly north. We hit the small town of Tregunc at 1:30 just in time for lunch. We passed a great looking bakery so we grabbed a few goodies for a snack later. Had a simple lunch at a brasserie: omelette/frites for me and April had a salad with 3-cheeses. Kind of reminded us of a pub in England.

Then we headed north again thru Melgven and on towards Rosporden. So what do we see as we pass thru a small town: two hardcore bike tourers. It has to be today!? We chat them up, two young German guys, of course they’re just rough camping wherever they can cause they don’t want to pay for a campground or a hotel. First I mention how I toured thru Germany in 1977 to establish a little biker cred, then I explain how we just sent our camping gear home as at our age we like our beds. Sigh. Know thyself.

We had reserved a room at a Chambre d’Hote in Rosporden, which is essentially a B+B. Gives you more of a feel for the local population/color. We had a better map now so we designed a route that kept us on back roads, and we had to cross a section of dirt roads to get into Rosporden. The dirt road was sweet, way back into the country with some deep dark forests and then farmlands. We stopped to eat our bakery goods on a dilapidated stone wall along the way. As one might expect from a committed Anglophile, April claimed the stone walls in England wouldn’t be falling down like this. Really….

We have our snacks, brownie for me and an apple/flan thing for April and right away she’s orgasmic. She’s loving this thing, the crust is perfect, the pudding is so smooth, the apples on the top are just right. Kind of reminds me of the time in Vancouver when I declared my sandwich was better than sex! And the truth is as I listened to her moaning and carrying on, I did feel a little inadequate! Ha-ha.

Anyway we made our way thru Rosporden out into the countryside about a mile and found our B+B. Had a nice chat with the owner/lady, who got around to complaining how her husband hadn’t put up her new world map yet. I casually mentioned, in French of course, how it’s always the case the women are making work for the men. Then she and April bonded a little as they commiserated with each other. And they were really happy cause there were two of them against me. Toujour le meme.

We showered, April searched online for a room in our next town, I washed some clothes. April gave me her black shirt to wash. I forgot I had some tissue paper in my bike shirt pocket. So her black shirt has all these microsopic shreds of paper now all over it. Ha-ha.

We ride back to town for a shitty dinner of pizza/pasta. Rosporden isn’t a touristy town so it has very few services.

Tomorrow we start a 2-day ride on one of the Voies Vertes, the converted railroad/farm routes. About 50K/day on the dirt paths. Should be interesting.