A wee bike ride I (Brest to Plouescat [45/50 kms])

4.5 hours after I leave Brest I am sitting in my hotel room. 2 hours and 38 minutes saddle time for 50 kms. I had head wind the whole time and once one is away from the coast, the road is a constant up and down.
I neither saw wild hogs, nor Roman encampments, nor an unlikely pair with striped pants and horned helmets.
Don't ever buy equipment from Orange!  I was trying to resolve a problem relating to my laptop not being able to use my Orange phone Wifi hotspot and they send me to the Repair & Customer Service desk. A French couple in their 70s was in front of me.  They had brought their Panasonic or Uniden cordless home phone with them.   Seems the battery was empty.  The Customer Service person kept changing the battery and the ring tones on that bloody home phone handset for ONE HALF HOUR.  For all I know he might still be at it, but I left, because I had some cycling to do!

A last look around Brest.

Brest has suburbs. I actually was surprised. And they are almost as horribly tacky as Vancouver suburbs.

Actually, they might just be worse.

Whoever came up with the idea that the French are civilized?

But then you're out of Brest, everything is agricultural, and then you approach the first village. And it seems to have a cathedral. But the size is all wrong, more like a pocket-cathedral.

Someone I know made fun of a person who went to Brittany and travelled to every tiny village to look at the village church.  After today's trip, I fully understand the church-looker!  When I saw the first one of these beauties, I thought it was a special village.  But then every tiny village had one and they became weirder and weirder and more and more beautiful.

I eat here. And I take the opportunity to recharge my battery, which is saying something like 10 km of charge left (bloody headwind!)  The only thing I know about the meat is that it is from the pig and that it was cut from a rolled-up-carpet-type-of construct.  But the rest I know. Galletes (something like crepes) & pommes (apple).  Grandma used to make these ;-)

Careful before you sneer!  A Breton specialty ;-)

There is one other thing in which France seems to outdo any other country, at least it feels like it when you cycle along the roads. All those empty stares !

And then there is this Crazy Kraut on his bicycle coming over a hill to get a new look at the horizon and all-of-a-sudden he's shouting Yes, Yes, F.... ! this is nice!  Kraut sees ocean. Kraut goes Cuckoo. Works every single time ;-)

Yes. Wheels!

Teaser

My church until at least tomorrow ;-)

Now it's time to do some work; Asterix & Co have to wait until at least tomorrow ;-(