Back on the road

TIME HAS PASSED. Since last we met, we caught a train south to Redon and from there rode the short distance to Rieux for the annual meeting and 40th birthday of Cyclo-Camping International.

Right now, we are by the bank of the Loire, at Cordenais. Not that we can see it. In fact what we can see is a nuclear power station. For the moment, it is mostly hidden by a hedge. France is strong on nuclear power and also on obliging hedges.

It wasn't the Loire that presented what little of interest we've seen today. It was a much smaller river, the Vilaine, smaller but still wide enough in this largely flat countryside to support a yacht regatta. Weekend sailors have been standing beside the water in wellingtons, seeing things that we don't see. We passed them on an unsurfaced path through trees as we left the campsite.

An armada of them stood, too, on a swing bridge a few miles later where a man with a boyish face but an adult belt-straining gut walked up and down in self-importance with a walkie-talkie in his hand. Or, a talkie-walkie as such things are known in French. He was the sort of man you see on the platforms of restored steam railways the world over.

We never did see the bridge swing to allow the yachts to pass

We never did see the bridge swing. That would have interested us more than the yachts. But we waited and the boats didn't appear, other than one or two which came close and then turned back. So we rode on to what tourist brochures would call a day of gentle pleasures, which is what they say when the countryside is inoffensive to the point of forgettable.

We got here in mid-afternoon, guilty at stopping so early but too lazy to do anything about it.

Just for the pleasure: fancy umbrellas beside the road

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	9
Comment on this entry	Comment	0