I return to Debbie's four-person ward as soon as I can after breakfast. 

During the morning she gets up and we stroll along the boring corridors. She's groggy.

Frank the farmer is super helpful and comes to pick us up just after noon. We get back to the bikes in his farm yard and then pedal along at a slow speed, along the same country lane with splendid views and grass growing down the centre as yesterday, but it seems different now. 

Debbie is sore and stiff and very wary. Maybe we'll abandon this trip; we'll just see how it goes.

...Now almost a decade later, Debbie still can't remember what happened. Perhaps a wasp buzzed in her face. Maybe the front wheel caught the grassy verge - with all the weight on the rear the front could have flipped up easily. It's a mystery. You just never know. She had landed mostly on her back, so my guess is she went over the bars. Without her helmet on, she'd have likely cracked her skull open.

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Debbie rides with her helmet on - with its chunk of foam missing at the back - and we get to Listowel just as it starts drizzling and find a small hostel place where the lady makes a bed up. It's all a bit basic.

There's a washing machine down the corridor, so I load it up with our dirty clothes. It's very noisy. We can hear it working from our room. 

Later, we eat at a Chinese restaurant. They're everywhere. We then wander around town, but it all looks a bit sad and empty.