Today was as all days should be. And early start and a farewells to Pamela after 5 glorious days of rest. Rose and I feel strong, replenished, and even some kilos heavier, with fresh supplies of olive oil, fresh picked cherries, cake and cheese, and I carry some huge meals, rest and good wine. Sharp clear day, and I am quickly at Hostons and a white sand lake where I spend hours, reading, drawing, swimming, and burning. I make “instant fondue”, heat a small wheel of Camembert in my saucepan, shopped garlic pushed into its cut crust. And its amazing, with a glass of sun warm red wine.
With sunburnt and full stomach I continue on through storm ravaged forests. and the riding is fine, and I don’t notice the distance that I cover towards the coast. I I measure 137km from Bordeaux to my campsite. All day long I think about the letter in Seignosse that I ride towards, and what could be in it. But in the light of such a good day, my thoughts too, are bright, and positive.
I think too of how whether I can declare myself my own state, a nomadic soveriegn state, with my own flag and crest, so that I can stamp peoples passports when I meet them. Because I feel there needs to be a more formal exhange, some tradition between cycle tourists when they meet each other on the road. A special handshake, an exchange of a small gift, or a stamp in a book of other voyagers met.
