You look forward to cycle paths most of the time. Sometimes they can be a pain: left to right, back again, onto road, back to path, dodge the large e-bikes thundering towards you in pairs.
Today’s ride, good as it was, had an extra frisson of mud, glorious mud. My fault, I cleaned the chains last night. Luckily this was super sticky mud with a nice clay feeling, so doubled up as extra lube. The canal on one side was the added incentive to stay in the tow path mud.
The coastal belt is a queer mix of traditional, slightly shabby and interesting local towns – where you see people (coffee, fags and pastries) and new developments along sea fronts. Where you don’t see people in the housing areas.
The beaches are deserted as are the acres of car parks. An ideal time to pass through or indeed stay. Probably a different scene just a week ago.
Inland there’s lots of nature in the marshy flat lands. Some of it bights. Red squirrels are used to being fed. The highland cow some saw was probably lost and very warm. Or on its holidays: why just us humans?
Tomorrow into Spain – which means an uphill to get to the Border post.
Travelling reflections 