Good times while racking up the miles

       Setting up camp and settling into my tent was like old home week.  Peter, my bicycling buddy, was twenty feet away snoring up a storm.  He keeps telling his wife he doesn't snore....  Once again no toilet seats but the shower was hot and the sun was shining.  After drying off the gear from all the condensation and loading up, we pushed off from La Valary de Caux at 9:47. Down the road at a 10:25 we cruised into near deserted seaside town, Fecamp.  Sitting by the sea wall taking in the rays, we were served a plate of five cheeses on a large plate with pate, du pain, expresso and a small glass of apple brandy. The chalk cliffs loomed nearby while the shoreline and surrounding hills made for an idyllic setting.  Fueled up, Peter and I began the serious peddling. Hill and dale, winding through small roads surrounded by harvested fields, small hamlets and cows with every mile that passed.  Peter showed me the tiny bike signs to follow.  We barely got near any heavily traveled roads.  After several hours of making our way along the coast, we arrived at another seaside town, a little more hip than the first one.  Bought some ice cream and sat on the wall looking out to sea, charming!
      As the miles mounted up, our destination of La Havre appeared in the distance.  Before making the plunge into this huge port city, we found a quaint town where we split a local wine size bottle of local beer and feasted on peaches, nectarines and plums.  After adjusting my new derailleur (which works well enough after learning its quirks), we descended into La Havre.  It took us a good hour and a half to find a place.  Hold up in a classy McDonalds (is that a contradiction in terms) with free wifi, Peter found a hostel of sorts.  A bit pricey but nicely laid out and are own room.  Cleaned up and walked to a local middle eastern mom and pop restaurant where we feasted on a mountain of food and a few beers. Not a bad day, fifty-five miles, not a bad day at all!