In a landscape that doesn’t change often we were treated as flat fields gave way to trees and rolling hills. Low winds, a cooler temps made for a great day. Cher was quite pleased as the temperature was perfect for cycling, cold enough not to sweat but not so cold you froze. I was quite relieved as well. When we planned the trip I was in charge of the timing of the seasons and have been promising Cher for months that it would get cooler. It’s always good to have something to look forward to, but it can be disappointing if deferred for too long.
We arrived at a lovely free camp site with free cold showers. Cher went first and claimed it was hot. Judging from the fact Cher wasn’t shivering, yet detecting some mischief in her look I guessed it might be tepid, but it was freezing. We set up camp on a grassy spot with barriers to keep the caravans from parking there. As we set up a woman sitting outside her caravan told us we couldn’t camp there. Cher, wanting to avoid any trouble went over to ask where she saw a sign that said this, to which women replied, that Cher could camp up a tree for all she cared. Her husband came by later to smooth things over, explaining that crazy backpackers were always leaving a mess. I didn’t point out to him that we were cyclists, not backpackers. Later that evening they lit a fire, which was the only thing expressly prohibited on the sign as we entered.