We just couldn’t resist it.
We stopped in at a Bistro Bar for lunch while out on a short walkabout, short because it’d been bucketing down and we can easily get cabin fever restlessness with no English on the room tele, so needed to don on the rain jackets and ponchos to take a short walk.
Actually, we went a little further than anticipated. Gawking at the Blois city buildings and gardens and walls and steps and soaked pigeons and dodging puddles all while trying not to let the dripping poncho drip droplets onto exposed skin because we went out with shorts on versus long pants, turning down this cobbled street and then that whereby the map makes the footprint look smaller than it actually is … that did it!
Getting looks was either because of our exposed thighs, knees and legs, or our white ponchos that now have battle scars taped up with black duck tape in the hope they last until the Atlantic, or both!
The down pour shower was enough to enter the Bistro Bar. You must wait to be seated by the establishment versus just picking a table and seating yourself. We learnt this lesson when we arrived at Sully-sur-Loire and went to another Bistro Bar for a bite to eat. The woman waiter directed us to two different outside tables and then vanished inside. We chose one and sat down as a male waiter came out. He nutted off at us that we must wait to be seated. When we tried to inform him of what the woman waiter had said, he had already started to re-enter the premise somewhat hot under the collar. Short of getting up to leave rather than be spoken at like we had of, we decided to stay put and make his day. I so wanted to remind him of how we had helped his forefathers during two world wars however, reframed from such as that may have instigated a third fisty cuff battle. And we are pacifist now we are aged and mature. Serious! First time of rudeness and so, here we were now waiting to be seated this day.
A blackboard menu was brought over and under the starters, snails were mentioned right at the top. In garlic butter we think. It was the item underneath that caught our attention and we just couldn’t resist ordering it – Wild Boar de Chambord. We didn’t know what to expect joking that it might come out with an apple stuffed in it’s mouth? Nope, it came out as a paste you spread on buns and consume with midget gherkins. Tasted more like tuna but hey, when in France etc, etc, etc.
Wondered how the wild pigs from yesterday are surviving?
The waiters were great. Our faith in the French manner restored. And the main dish was enough to keep us athletes going for another day. Which included a little more walking and then back to the hotel to dry out external apparel and wet shoes. And thighs, knees and legs. Room looks like a Chinese laundry after yesterdays massive bathroom hand basin wash and rinse.
We made the decision to take another day off here in Blois. Perhaps it was the comfort of waking up this morning and being able to lie there, scratching, then rolling back over for some more shut eye. Body sure lapped it up. The weather is supposed to improve tomorrow so todays taste of what is about, we’ll be able to explore some more.
We are also nearing the end of our riding. We estimate approx. under 400 kms to go and that includes cycling back to Nantes from Saint Nazaire after dipping the toes into the Atlantic. Mixed emotions are stirring as is always the case when an adventure comes to its conclusion. The mapping out of what happens beyond that is on the radar. No doubt it’ll gain clarity over the next few days.
Still no luck in convincing BClaire that we should bike home to New Zealand!
Today, I just happened to look at the speedo to check the accumulated kms ridden so far. We haven’t been keeping a track of the bigger number, but more the daily numbers.
Quite freaky that the number looking back read exactly 2500.
Yep, the mixed emotions are stirring.
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