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I AM, I concede, sufficiently immature that I enjoy other people's discomfort. It surprises me we have no word for it, that we have to borrow from Germany.

We rode away this morning to the constant company of cyclists coming the other way. It is a long weekend thanks to a jour férié and everyone was out to enjoy it. The sun was shining.

What we enjoyed most - what I enjoyed most - was the free ferry that shuttles across the Loire downstream from Nantes. That, and having a cyclists' lane to ride past all the waiting drivers, was agreeable enough. What made it better was the grinding noise from a camper-van as its back wheels came down one side of the ramp while its front was going up the other.

Geometry did the rest. The tide was low and the angle greater than the van could manage. Everything beneath the rear bumper ground across, well, the ground and brought proceedings to a halt.

I'm sure camper-van drivers are nice people. Mainly. Even without knowing them,  I like them more than their American cousins who drive an ark of belongings so they can get away from the material world by bringing it all with them.

There is, nevertheless, a dark corner that rejoiced at the metallic grating. It was partial repayment for all the campsites which camper-vans have rutted and ruined for camping.

Well, we are heading south now. Crossing the Loire puts us in the southern half of France, at least by my estimation. Again by my estimation, it is the better half. But for the moment there is little to cheer the heart. The countryside is without blame but without song, every kilometre much like the one you've just seen.

My childish schadenfreude judged unacceptable by the gods, they threw bricks of wind against us. After 70km, our campground was shut. A family playing outdoor table tennis looked sympathetic but powerless. They weren't cyclists. They knew nothing of headwinds and sinking morale.

But they did send for the owner.

"We're not open for another week," he said when he arrived, smiling and welcoming and knowing something of those with two pedals rather than one under their feet. "I've never turned away a cyclist and this isn't the moment to start. The showers are working and you're welcome."

There are good people in this world. Not necessarily in camper-vans but in the world generally, yes.