What's Dutch for 'you park the bloody caravan'. The wife chose a pitch that the husband found impossible to site their caravan on. But she was determined he could and should. After nearly an hour of maneuvering the wife had to give in and they moved to another pitch. By now it was almost dark and as the air cooled slightly we prepared to retire to bed.
Some days just don't to plan. Today would be one of those days. The cycle path alongside the canal was awful. Stony and potholed with loose shingle on the ascents and descents at the bridges. Very dangerous. So we carefully climbed down an embankment and onto the road. We were keen to cover today's twenty-five miles before the mercury rose.

Then, a hissing noise. John's rear tyre had suffered not one but three punctures. Great! Fortunately we were near a semi shaded spot, but the heat prevented the patches from taking on the inner tube. Decisions had to be made. John walked three miles in the midday sun to the campsite in the next village and Angela cycled back to the supermarket in Decize to source an inner tube. The campsite delivered, they had a spare inner tube, just one. Some food items purchased Angela began the cycle back in debilitating heat. By the time she was reunited with John she'd cycled twenty-four miles. Sometimes events in life happen for a reason.
The campsite John walked found is a real gem. Natural ( yes natural, not naturist), the charming and very French.
We have enjoyed spending time sat at the bar, eating Italian croque monsieur and chips, talking to a German couple from the nearby campervan and just chilling, as the youngsters say. The temperature on the site in the full sun at half past four this afternoon was, wait for it 50c. In the shade 38c. Perhaps having to abandon today's cycle had been a good thing. Tomorrow we have a longer cycle ahead of us and plan to leave by eight armed with six and a half litres of drinking water. Wish us luck.