15th or 16th.

I'm having a holiday.

I have arrived at my good friends Bob and Liz's caravan near Montalivet and am going to rest here for a few days.

Getting here was fun, when I realised how close I was I made a push for it, did nearly a hundred k but my body's feeling broken and as I was getting close I had an overwhelming desire to hitch.

OK I know I'm on my own somewhere I can't speak the language, and more to the point, I've got a bike, and I know it's cheating, etc, etc, but I hadn't seen a corner or a hill up or down for days.

The wind was hard against me and each time a lorry went past I felt like a council flat getting a coating of grittle-splatter (is that what it's called?)

In the end, the last straw was a fairly scqry experience that left me a bit shaky like near misses sometimes do.

Condensing from the distant wafts of mirage somewhere miles down the ruler-straight road came hurtling a big timber lorry. The stupid speeds I'm used to. What I wasn't anticipating was the force of the air not only making me grip the handlebars rigidly to save getting sucked under, but sinultaneously whipping one of the planks of messily stacked plywood clean off the bqck of the lorry, to come spinning, flashing as it caught the sun, in cliche'd slow-motion right over my side of the road and into the verge just meters ahead of me- narrowly missing the car in front which screeched and swerved, as did I.

The lorry rumbled on, oblivious or feigning oblivion (I'm not sure I've used oblivion in the right context there, but only a couple of you are English teachers so I'm sure the rest of you can forgive me. I remembered a capital E on english that time...)

Anyway. I stopped in the next layby for a breather, but the next lorry that came flying by literally knocked Mr. Graham Blue out of my grasp, bruising my shin and twisting my already sore wrist on his way down. We're both fine, but I hardly had to think about it- my thumb was out and that inane, harmless, helpless, non-psycho-as-possible smile was on my face like settling down into a favourite armchair.

I tried to remember not to talk to myself or Graham; whom I realize may not be recognized by the average passer-by as the intelligent being he is; and got back into my favourite game of inventing hearty excuses for why each person who so blatantly could help me out in their big pickup trucks or trailers; didn't.

A van approached with 2 hippies in, I could tell from a distance it was hopeful and I had to catch myself- "This is the one, Graham, it's an LDV!" before they got close enough to see my lips moving.

I was quite suprised when they drove straight past, without even an explanatory hand-gesture, but kept trying- inventing a wife in labour or something similarly urgent for them.

I set myself a 15 minute time limit, and only about 7 had passed when the 2 in the LDV came back, apologizing and explaining that they'd been arguing about whether I'd be too scared to get in with them or not. Ha!

Hugo and Baltazar turned out to be utterly lovely, reminding me all over why I love hitching so much. (Their english was amazing, local advice and good conversation are both things I'm always in need of!) And Hugo's house, where they were on their way to for lunch, was right at the start of the cycle-path to my destination- much further than I'd ever hoped or expected to get to.

The journey saved me about 20-30km of straight line, and gained me 2 friends and a bunch of fresh tomatoes, garlic and apples organically grown by Hugo.

Now though, I'm taking a break for a few days. I've spread out all my stuff- I can wash them and actually let them dry before I put them back on!!

I'm sleeping in a proper bed, cooking proper food, having a hot shower whenever I like and resting my body for a few days.
I'll get back online when I'm back on the road, otherwise I'll start to sound like a post-card X