The next morning, breakfast with a view at Chateau d’Pramenoux.
Bikerboy locks me in the tower. I think he has had enough of my derrière.
Now we’re heading home, next stop is simply to head back in order to make it in time to catch the ferry on Thursday. We were debating how much we could cope with today, or rather I could cope with.
We would aim for Tours and see how far we could get, it was 265 miles away.
This has to be my road trip most unexpected moment – this lorry driver is fabulous!
It’s noon and this guy is cooking pasta for his lunch! What a smart man.
On the table he has his ingredients all ready to go.
A large part of this journey we were on the A79 and for Bikerboy it was one of the worst roads he experienced because it was heavy with lorries and most of it single carriageway which meant over-taking on the wrong side of the road. And having to keep constantly checking from behind lorries to see if he could over-take made this exhausting.
We had trouble finding fuel, three different signs for petrol on this road would lead us off the road into villages with no petrol stations and GPS would lead us to no longer existing petrol station places.
We couldn’t find a service station and I was getting desperate too not just the bike, there weren’t even any suitable bushes where I could hide my derrière from the road.
Finally on entrance to motorway I could spend a penny. It’s not easy on the motorbike you know, it’s not as if I can cross my legs.
We were glad to be off this road and on to the dull motorway.
Something that Bikerboy keeps forgetting to do is to put his earplugs in, after stopping we are all set to go on the bike again..then it’s stop..oh forgot plugs..heat beaming down on us while he puts them on. I’ve learnt to ask now, “plugs in?” before I get on the bike.
Cleaning visor of dead flies in order to see better.
At this point I’m having a big time melt-down. I haven’t been able to eat any protein all day and my blood sugar level is really low, I can feel losing control of my body as if I can’t stop it from falling. It’s a weird feeling as if I’ve taken drugs and I’m not in control. The service station we stopped for lunch was diabolical, I only had a small green salad, I couldn’t drink the coffee there or buy dark chocolate and they had run out of redbull.
If I never see another corn or sunflower field again it will be too soon.
I struggled with all my might to hold on to Bikerboy but it was no use I had to make him stop.
…just couldn’t go on..it was too much. I was pushed to my limit. Not feeling in control on top of the bike, feeling as if I was about to fall asleep had scared the hell out of me.
I said that’s it I can’t go on..
He says there’s only 30 miles to go.
I then remembered I still had one of those dark chocolate bars with seeds in my pocket, a bit squashed and melted not unlike myself, ate it rested few minutes and was up for last leg of it.
I was never so happy to see a hotel room.
A couple of much needed drinks were had.
The duck was tough as boots but it was at least filling a hole.
