The day started well off with good, although short, rides towards Le Havre. Still about eight out of ten people in France refuse to spit out anymore English than "yes" or "no" which makes every ride special. I mostly run out of my French phrases in about two minutes which leaves a lot of time to improvise. Today, after about eight rides and eight repetative conversations, my luck turned ill: no more cars, no more rides.
I felt compulsory to try my luck on another road. Big mistake. The next two hours went chasing a wild goose on a highway. Two hours later I got two rides. First was a fine gentleman offering me a ride back to the spot i started. The second one was a cop car offering me a ride to jail. I went with the first gent.
Back to basics, except this time I didn´t have any water or food left and I was sweating like a pedophile in a kindergarden. I flushed down the last of my peanuts with a swig of brandy and went to talk to a couple of blokes running a garage alongside the road. I got my canteen filled up again and found a couple of potatoes that had dropped off a tractor car. Feeling a little bit better and more well equipped I started off again.
Le Havre on my mind and only 150k´s done from 350 I decided to start looking for a camp place. To make matters interesting I left my tent in Germany. The sky seemed clear and I had picked up a piece of plastic mattress that should cover my shelter just nicely inase of a little shower.
Two kilometres later I found a spot where there seemed to be running water. After a deeper analysis the hope of a quick wash turned out to be futile.
While digging up something to eat from alongside a swede field I noticed some rabbit holes on the ground. Since I didn´t have too much cooking water for my nettles and swedes my mouth began water over an idea of a rabbit roast. This plan would include time, patience, my shoelaces and some pulverizing. Just when the plan started taking it´s final form I almost stumbled on a Fiat Panda racing down the road. Quickly erecting both my thumbs and hands I managed to spook the driver enough to pull over. Turned out it was a whole family packed in to that small heap and I was welcomed to join the fray.
After 49 long kilometres tugged tightly in the backseat we arrived to the outskirts of Amiens. It must have been my reeking aroma that emptied the car so quickly. After about 20 minutes of shuffling around the familys living room table the folks, and the family´s cat, were resolved that I should be removed from the residence ASAP.
I was taken to a dark parking lot where I lost my Micky D´s virginity again after three years. The trade offered a cheesburger and a chance to get online. Ten minutes later I felt violated but happy as I managed to find a somewhat cheap motel nearby. The sky opened up and I had to run the last five hundred meters to the place. In the reception they had to fetch a chef from the kitchen to check me in as there was an immense language barrier between me and the receptionist. The poor fella´ did his best checking me in quickly before the first tickets arrived to the kitchen. I wished the man "bonne service" and went to look for my room. Twenty minutes and two beers later I found myself lying shower fresh on semi-clean linen smoking a victory cigar and sinking the last of brandy I had left since Mainz.
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