After 337 kilometres in 8 days we decided it was time for a day off. Two of those days were meant to be rest days. Instead the first “rest day” was 15 kms through the streets of Paris from the bike shop to the hotel (not recommended) and the second was 9 kilometres the day after my birthday (also not recommended).
More precisely, Cassy decided it was time for a rest day. Something about not wanting the holiday to be a boot camp – I forget the details. We had been glad to be back riding next to a canal, after days spent navigating busy and slightly less busy roads, until the canal trail turned into single track through shoulder high grass. These are not pleasant riding conditions with our trailers which prompted Cassy’s “boot camp” comment. So we spent a wonderful day exploring Tonnerre, a little town of 6500 people on the Canal de Burgundy.
Tonnerre is famous for the Hotel Dieu – one of the first hospitals for the poor which was built in the 13th Century. We didn’t take the tour because it was closing for lunch when we arrived. Everything closes for lunch in France; bizarrely even the lunch bars.
Tonnerre is also famous for the Fosse Dionne – France’s second deepest water source. We didn’t visit that either because ... well ... this is a little harder to explain.
We both saw the tourist sign pointing to the Fosse Dionne. And we both thought the words sounded vaguely familiar – perhaps it was the studio of a vaguely famous artist in residence in France. Later on we realised that we were thinking of Dianne Fossy – the lady who lived with gorillas in the mist. We have recently been reading about her in Dr Saks’book because Dianne Foss has prosopagnosia which is an inability to recognise human faces. This is a common affliction. Experts speculate that the ability to recognise faces may be like IQ and spread along a bell curve. People at the top end of the bell curve live fabulous social lives have many friends and become social networking consultants. People at the bottom end struggle to recognise their close friends and family. They develop other mechanisms for recognising people; relying a lot on circumstance and environment. I believe that I fall into the bottom half of the facial recognition bell curve. If you ever bump into me in the street and I seem a little astounded that you are talking to me – now you know why. I digress.... We never quite made it to the Fosse Dionne.
However, we were directed to a little cafe opposite the tourist bureau which serves tasting plates of local fare. We ordered one each and salivated over gougere (cheesy croissanty buns), espice bread, two types of cheese, local escargot paste, cheese stuffed mushrooms and local wine. We were so impressed that we went straight inside and bought a bottle of chilled rosé wine and some more of the local delicacies. We returned to the little river in front of our campsite and whiled away our time watching water cascade over the small man-made dam wall. We ate baguette and gougere and cheese and escargots and drank wine and generally gorged on the finest of local delicacies.
After 10 minutes of watching the water flow over the dam and cascade down the sloping rock wall on the other side we saw small fish trying to leap into the cascading water. Cassy and I spent a good half hour sipping our wine and debating whether big fish or small fish could swim upstream more easily. We discussed strength to weight ratios, ability to leap long distances etc. A bet was made. We then examined the dam wall more closely and discovered tiny little fish swimming up along the rock wall against the fast flowing water. The result of that discovery was twofold. I am now the proud owner of our entire (dwindling) asset pool. And we subverted natural selection by catching some of the cuter looking fish at the bottom of the dam and tossing them up over the dam wall. Good times.
The next day we decided on another rest day in Tonnerre - although the effects of the picnic the day before were not the entire reason for our extended layover. We needed to go shopping. France has three types of supermarket. There is the deli like “alimentation”, the self explanatory “supermarche” and the grandiose “hypermarche.” The hypermarche is the Bunnings of supermarkets. Think gourmet deli, bottle shop, Target, supermarket, toy store, sports shop under the one roof – and on steroids. Three aisles of cheese. A whole side of the store dedicated to bakery goods and patisseries. We had been compiling a shopping list and after a half hour walk we arrived at E.Leclerc – hypermarche.
After the walk, and the general effects of 8 days cycling, we were starving. We roamed the aisles like food zombies collecting things to eat, things to wear and various other camping requisites. As our hunger set in further we realised that we needed to eat fast. We indulged our desire for another picnic by locating some patisserie goods, cheese and soft drinks. Our little trolley cart full we headed to the checkout only to be foiled by our poor banking habits and the refusal of the Mr E.Leclerc to accept any of our dozen AmEx cards. A harried ten minutes passed as we tried card after card at the checkout then again at the ATM. Cassy was on the mobile to Westpac when I remembered our emergency credit card was in the backpack. This was an emergency. After the second attempt the pin code worked and we were free. Cassy celebrated the handing over of the receipt by opening a packet of onion and vinegar chips at the checkout. As I swallowed that first chip, I cried “victory” in French to the checkout chick who looked suitably bemused.
We were SOO hungry there was nothing for it but to tear into our picnic on the bench seat in the foyer room to E.Leclerc. The foyer room had a display of fake leather jackets on offer at crazy fake leather prices. So we ate our goat’s cheese flat bread, reduced price brie and four types of freshly baked patisserie cakes in the one box for 2.30 Euros washed down with Coke Zeros. This was a stark contrast to the setting and delicacy of the previous day’s picnic. But still a picnic – of sorts.
