'Cough it up girl,. Angela is desperate to clear her airways. Nose blowing is her day. Could be worse. The Dutchman looked very delicate this morning. It's always a good idea to drink a bottle of 7.2% lager just before bed. Perhaps he'd be better suited with a mug of cocoa tonight. Around nine most of us cyclists left, keen to beat the heat of the day. We cycled alongside the estuary to St. Nazaire with it's imposing road bridge. A few years ago we cycled over it after returning by train from Nevers late one Friday night, with two younger Germans in hot pursuit. Oh how we yearn for those heady days of youthfulness. Angela felt cycling up gradients was a little easier today, however John was tired. Yesterday we perhaps pushed ourselves a little to far in the heat.
So at lunchtime we found a shady spot on a beach where we dozed whilst waiting for the heat of mid-day to pass. A cool breeze blew of the sea making our late afternoon ride more comfortable.
Our stop tonight a campsite right on the coast. A huge German van arrived behind us. The pitch a little tight for it to access. All the staff in the reception came out to watch. We weren't sure if they were hoping to witness a disaster or hoping not to. Never a dull moment on campsites, especially with vans, as Marge would tell you.
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