Come close to the Mediterranean in May, and what do you get?!
Note the time on the village clock as I belatedly leave the Hotel
The rain eases a tadge, so I strike out of the village on the minor road to Brissac. Yes, you’ve got it – it’s uphill.
Within minutes, the rain turns into a downpour. I head for the first available refuge, sheltering under the eaves of a nearby stone farmhouse, and watch the trickling water form a rivulet heading over the gravel to the nearest escape. A river formation in miniature, before my eyes.
After a few moments the door opens and an elderly woman with weatherworn features, but a smile etched into her face, emerges. My broken French, supported by a good deal of sign-language reassures her that I’m up to no harm. I think perhaps that there’s something in my face that makes people trust me.
After a few more minutes, the rain still teeming, I decide that enough is enough; after all, I’m in no hurry. Back to Gange for more substantial shelter and a grande creme. How long will I stay here? Who knows?
I’m sat right opposite the Hotel de Poste (where I stopped last night) and realise that the entire ground floor, with the exception of a narrow entrance to the Hotel, has been converted to accommodate a variety of other business ventures
That explains why, with so many rooms, the entire reception facilities are on the first floor, and rather pokey. It must have been grand in its heyday.
After 20 minutes I feel chilly, so bolt over the road to the cosy indoor bar and another coffee. An hour later, having written up the blog to this point, I’m still here listening to the idle chatter of a cross-section of locals. To justify my table, I order the Plat du Jour. Excellent!
All good things must come to an end – I can’t sit here all day; a strategy is needed. Definitely not the weather for the mountains. How about aiming for Montpelliar? If the weather improves tomorrow, I can swim in the Med!
Cycling on the main road south I pass through the enchanting (and I suspect, touristy) village of Laroque.
Thereafter, I quickly hit the jackpot of cycle touring: a loaded bike; a long uphill climb; heavy rain; and a strong HEADWIND! Every time the rain changes from heavy to torrential, I hastily seek temporary cover wherever I can find it. Not surprisingly my progress is slow, not to say tortuous. When I eventually reach the Col, it feels as though I’ve climbed 3300m rather than 330.
But the nightingales are still singing …… and I’m still happy!
To cut a long story, short, after consulting the map I detour onto a minor road, and using my mounted compass always to continue southward, I manage to find a quiet and attractive route into the city.
And guess what? THE RAIN STOPS
Oh yes ….. the answers to yesterday’s teasers (though I’m sure they’re not needed)
Three men in the jungle:
If the man at the back sees two white hats, he would know he must be wearing black, and would shout. He doesn’t
The man in the middle therefore knows that his hat and the front man’s hat must be black and black, or black and white. If he sees white on the front man, he would know that his own was black, and would shout. He doesn’t
Therefore, being a logical person, when the front man hears no shout from either behind him, he knows that his own hat must be …………. BLACK
The breaking of a chocolate bar
Each time any piece is broken, the total number of pieces increases by one. Therefore, to obtain mxn pieces requires (mxn – 1) breaks
Some friends of mine have suggested this one for you to ponder on.
If (Even number x Even number) divided by Even number
gives you an answer which is Odd
What do you know about the numbers?
Keep them coming!
Distance travelled 30.6 miles
Average speed 8.6 mph (a lot of stopping)
Elevation gain 1,727 ft
Maximum speed 24.8 mph