Awaking on the campsite to sunshine was quite a novelty after three days of dour weather. I had a good chat with another English cyclist who was heading in the opposite direction to me, swapping advice about what was ahead. He was riding a reclining bike so fearful of the hills to come.
I set off around 10 and hit the canal tow paths which were to be my route for most of the day.
I didn’t take too many photos – one tow path pretty much like another. Just a day of hot, long miles.
I rolled into the campsite in quite late, pleased to find one with full facilities as I desperately needed a washing machine. This is something French campsites in general do very well. Much more so than any others I have stayed on. The facilities were excellent.
I’d eaten on the way, stocks of local bread crammed into my panniers from the morning, so wasn’t very hungry. I was however thirsty and grabbed a bottle of Alsace red from the bar before spending a pleasant evening sat outside drinking wine, reading my book and chatting to an English couple from Preston.
So this is a pretty short post really – uneventful day, beautiful but uninspiring scenery followed by a comfortable campsite where I was able to order a mountain of bread for the following morning.