Le Chat Chocolat, our headquarters for the night...And the hosts are English so here is hoping for a fry in the morning, if I have to have jam and bread again so help me!
The scene from a bridge over River Seine in Rouen.
Day five: 45 miles.
No rain today, thanks the good Lord. And the wind was behind us. Finally a break for the magnificents.
After dreams of Whoopi Goldberg in a habit (Back in the Habit - I just got that) we awoke and enjoyed a breakfast which included the rare luxury of cornflakes and milk, which must be a delicacy in France cause you just don't get it anywhere, damn it.
Today's ride was much easier and less blood-soaked than yesterday's thankfully, but we have now moved out of significant WW2 area for the time being so, aside from seeing our first McDonalds of the trip, the day passed pretty much without incident.
As such, there is little more to do than reveal the nature of yesterday's 'incident'. It's the moment you've all been waiting for faithful readers.
Yesterday's hills were hideous, so it was a real joy when we were faced with a sign telling us the next 2km would all be downhill. Laughing in the face of the wet road, Joe accelerated his bike to 600 miles an hour and promptly lost control on a bend.
Gravity took care of the rest. He hit the deck chin-first and careered on into a ditch. Luckily, a helpful French passer-by offered him a lift to the local doctor, who had him patched up and on his way in no time.
We were all relieved to see Joe was OK of course, but the true relief came when we realised that John Rambanana had survived. We are all thankful for that one.
Au revior for now.