After a freezing cold beach shower I was feeling creme fraiche. I got myself some travel snacks from the local marche and hit the road
I stopped at some French cafe in Blossville S/mer for a 4 course meal (12 euros) and charged my phone and garmin. YESSSS MATE this is what I was hoping for. It’s amazing what some good food and a bit of French waitress flirtary (In shitty French from me, shitty English from her and shitty Spanish from both (but she definitely wanted a piece yeah)) can do for your spirit.
Feeling rejuvenated, I pushed on to Le Harve and I’m so glad I did. It is a beaut of a town/city. It probably helped that it was drenched in sunshine to the tune of 35C since I got there
Eventually I stopped cycling along the beach as there was mass salsa style dance going on. I sat and watched for a bit before a lovely lady named Claudette (pushing 40’s) signalled for me to join her. As smooth as Egyptian whisky I got my cycling shoes off in what felt like 10 hours flat, trying hard to ignore her French laughter. After a couple of minutes my legs were starting to ache from what I had already put them through this week.
Ah well. Another night, another beach
“Life’s a beach”
– I’m gonna credit that one to Pete Tong