Dipping Our Toes in Lake Geneva

24-08-18

We woke up feeling pretty chilly in the van. It was misty outside and there was a definite bite in the air which made the early morning walk to the shower cubicles rather unpleasant. The campsite here was perfectly suitable but the owner was as frosty as the weather so we didn’t want to prolong our stay. Despite best efforts at being overly friendly we couldn’t tease a smile from her, even when we paid up.

We packed up and got back on the road, headed due west towards Lake Geneva. The lake is shared between France and Switzerland and overlooked by the alps. The scenery on the 75 mile drive was amazing with epic mountains and bright blue sky all the way.

We arrived at a campsite at a tiny town called Bouveret on the tip of the east coast of the lake. It had plenty of open space and a super friendly owner so we plumped for a couple of nights.

Once we had decamped and had lunch we went for a wander and had a very lazy afternoon by the lake shore.

The weather wasn’t as hot and beautiful as the Italian lakes, probably because of the higher altitude and huge mountains casting shadows but it was a great way to destress.

We found a swimming pool and beach area and lay and ate ice creams and listened to our podcasts. I’m afraid to say that I was so lazy that I didn’t even brave the water for a quick dip but Gary did and reported it to be ‘refreshing’, which I interpreted as cold.

We had a BBQ back at the campsite and watched a film. We’ve been making the most of WiFi when we find it and we stockpile downloads of films to watch when in more remote areas. We are at the mercy of what Netflix has to offer but we’ve had some good viewing recently and it’s prompted me to sit down to a few classics that I’ve been meaning to watch or rewatch, including Scarface, Kramer vs Kramer and American Psycho… a jolly collection!

The next day we went for a bike ride in search of Montreux, a town on the north eastern shore of the lake. There was a bike lane that took us along the eight mile route.

Firstly we crossed the Rhône and then cycled through beautiful fields of maize on our left and vineyards on our right. Occasionally the path would open out to give us glimpses of the lake and small harbours before we were back in shaded woodland or farmer’s fields. Once we reached the midway town of Villeneuve we hit the lake proper and followed it all the way round.

The lake side cycle was absolutely beautiful.

As we cycled on the silhouette of lakeside Chillon Château came into focus. Dating back to at least 1005, the Chateau was built to control the road from Burgundy to the Great Saint Bernard Pass. From the mid 12th century, the castle was summer home to the Counts of Savoy, who kept a fleet of ships on Lake Geneva.

With the backdrop of the lake and the mountains it made a picture perfect location for such a grand castle.

As we approached Montreux, the cycle lane was flanked by incredible displays of flowers.

They went on for a couple of miles and were absolutely stunning. We were so pleasantly surprised by the area as a whole.

So many people were out and about enjoying the weather and the lake. There were sculptures and modern artwork dotted around and nice places to sit and picnic which contributed to a really serene atmosphere.

The town of Montreux was very pretty with a harbour, huge marketplace and plenty of waterside cafes and restaurants.

We had some lunch overlooking the lake and watch the grand tourist boats dock and unload. Later we had a mooch around the shops. There was time for yet one more gelato before we headed back on the cycle lane to the camp site.

From first impressions Switzerland seems incredibly clean and efficient and beautiful but is expensive. We are talking six euros for a water in a restaurant and seven euros for an ice cream. It’s a good job the views are free! We have loved Switzerland so far but it was always going to be a brief visit and we are pleased we’ve dipped our toes in on this side of the alps. We think we’ve got another couple of days here before we edge back into France and leisurely make our way down to Ginestas for my brother’s wedding in a couple of weeks.

Lake Garda – Lazise

8-08-18

Having had a great few days in Venice we headed back west towards the Italian lakes. We were really looking forward to slowing down our pace and relaxing a bit. With temperatures hitting 40 degrees over the last week, we were particularly keen to get to some water to cool down. Venice was incredible but heavy going and the lakes seemed to offer the ultimate rest bite for our weary feet. We managed to pick up an electric fan en route which proved to be the purchase of the trip.

It only took an hour and a half to reach the east side of lake Garda. We plumped for a town called Lazise and found a nice campsite straight away. Our pitch is probably one of the best we’ve had with loads of space and privacy and a nice vibe to the campsite. It’s pretty basic in comparison to the other mega campsites along the lake that have huge swimming pools, scheduled entertainment and endless facilities but it suits us well. The lakes get super busy during August because of the school holidays and we prefer being in a quiet site with slightly older clientele than the expensive, sprawling resorts with families and rowdy kids everywhere.

It’s become increasingly clear as we travel northern Italy that this is the domain of the Germans and Dutch. We’ve not heard many English accents and the campsite is completely full of German tourists who seemingly return to their spot every year. We got back to Harvey the other night to find that the Germans had joined forces and created a street party along the campsite access road and were getting stuck into a BBQ and plenty of Barvarian beer. Next someone got the guitar out and they were crooning into the small hours. Gary quite often gets mistaken for being German but our invitation to the soirée must have been lost in the post.

We decided to stay for 6 nights, using Lazise as a base for daily adventures. It’s a charming little town with a small harbour and lovely waterfront restaurants.

It also has an awesome fish and chip shop that we just had to try – they served Norwegian stockfish which seemed a bit random but it was delicious.

We really love the vibe here. It’s lively and has a buzz with weekly markets and live music but is not oppressively busy or frenetic. The water is the focus of everyone’s stay and everything is geared towards embracing the beauty of the natural surroundings.

There is a great cycle lane that follows the waterline, passing other beautiful towns to the North. We spent a few days exploring this, stopping for regular ice cream and refreshment breaks in the stifling heat. Occasionally we’d off-road and find ourselves completely alone, racing through picturesque olive groves.

As we cycled the 5 miles to Garda we saw families and locals at every point along the water. Kids were jumping off the jetties, sun worshippers sprawled out on grassy patches and plenty of cyclists getting their daily exercise.

People holiday at Garda for the summer, not just for a week or two and we can totally understand why. The weather is incredible, the scenery is stunning and the towns are preened to perfection. The displays of colourful flowers along the promenades are beautiful and the pastel houses and pint-sized harbours in every town ooze with character.

Its great to see so many people enjoying the great outdoors and making wonderful memories. Despite the beauty and elegance of the surroundings, there is nothing pretentious or twee about the place, just people having a genuinely good time.

Garda and Bardolino were two of our favourite little towns that we visited by bike. They both have gorgeous alleyways and narrow cobbled streets filled with cutesy shops and cafes. We liked to stop at the waterfront bars for an aperol spritz (which incidentally is always served with a few nibbles) and a game of uno.

On our way back we would pick a spot to stop for a dip, the water being the perfect refreshment after a sweaty cycle.

On one of the days we got the ferry South to Sirmione.

It’s a beautiful (but packed) town set on an impossibly thin peninsula with an impressive castle and moat.

We wandered through the gorgeous little lanes, marvelling at the incredible bougainvillea adorning the colourful houses and we had a picnic overlooking the lake.

We found Jamaica beach which was teeming with locals and tourists who were wading out in the shallow water to cool down. The water was a gorgeous colour and the pier made for the perfect place to sunbathe and people watch.

We opted for the last ferry back which delivered wonderful views in the late afternoon sun that bathed everything in golden hues.

We don’t think that this area of Lake Garda can be beaten but it’s time to find out. Today we head 40 miles north to Riva Del Garda for a different perspective of this beaut. Watch this space…

Au Revoir France, Bonjourno Italy.

With the gas all working we decided to wild-camp somewhere along the Italian coast near San Remo. There is something very satisfying about being able to wild-camp. Not only is it free but to be off-grid using solar power for our electrical needs and gas for the fridge and hot water gives a fantastic sense of freedom and self sufficiency. It is limited only by the size of your water tank and toilet cassette.

The drive to San Remo took us close to the beautiful town of Eze and we were going to stop and take a look. Unfortunatley I missed the turn and it was too far to turn back so we carried on through Monaco. I can’t say I saw much of Monaco as the roads were pretty tight and steep so I mostly concentrated on keeping us alive.

It wasn’t long after Monaco that we entered Italy for the first time on this trip. Au Revoir France see you in September. Bonjourno Italy we look forward to seeing what ya got.

The plan is to hit up the Italian Riviera, cruise down to Florence, flit over to Venice then slope our way back to France via the lakes.

San Remo was to be a pitstop on the way to the Italian Riviera. Good job too as we ended up in a huge gravel car park with a load of other campers, right by the sea, but not the prettiest place to stay.

The next day we drove for a 3 hours, what a grueller. Made worse by the Italian drivers. These boys and girls think they are driving around a race track. We were chatting about what defines a nation as it didnt seem to be the geographical borders in this case. As we hopped from France to Italy we didn’t see a huge distinction. Suddenly I had to beep the horn as Mario Andretti overtook me then cut into my lane to get onto his racing line. FFS. In the 51 days we have been away I have had to beep once. 1 hour in Italy and already my first beep. This is what clearly defined the difference between the French and Italians. Their driving. Despite the manicness of the Italian drivers the road took us around and indeed through some breath-taking scenery. 6 beeps later we arrived at our destination for the next few days, Rapallo.


WB Yeats, Max Beerbohm and Ezra Pound all garnered inspiration in Rapallo and it’s not difficult to see why. With its bright-blue changing cabins, palm-fringed beach and diminutive 16th-century castle perched above the sea, the town has a poetic and nostalgic air.

Our usual trick when trying to get our bearings is to head for the water front then climb up high to get an overlook. With a little bit of research we discovered that Rapallo has a cable car called La Funivia Rapallo-Montellegro.

Funivia Rapallo-Montallegro takes you from Rapallo up to Santuario Basilica Nostra Signora di Montallegro, the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Montallegro, a basilica finished in 1559.
According to tradition, the Madonna appeared (2 July 1557) on Monte Leto, to Giovanni Chichizola, a peasant, and showed him a picture of her passing from earthly life, saying that it had been transported by angels from Greece, and that she would leave it on the mountain side as a pledge of her love. The picture was placed in the principal Church of Rapallo for veneration, but two days later it mysteriously disappeared and was again found on a rock at Montellegro.

What better way to show our appreciation for such an historic site than to film Emily “dong miming”

The panoramic views of the Golfo del Tigullio were spectacular.

We wandered into the Basilica and marvelled at it’s ornate gold leaf detail and painted ceilings.

Then heading around the back to a perfect little Italian hill top restaurant for glass or two of prossecco. After all you can’t arrive in Italy and not celebrate with a cold, crisp, fruity glass of the local tipple.

Another day, another country another epic view…

The Gulf of St Tropez

14-07-18

We spent the majority of the morning trying to locate a local mechanic, gas engineer or motorhome specialist who could confirm the problem with the gas system and order us a new regulator. Knowing that we are on the road for the next four months we needed to get it sorted. This proved much more difficult than we thought and we found ourselves in many awkward phone calls with broken French and poor google translate assistance. We even tried calling some ship chandlers that specialise in sorting issues for yachts in the hope that they’d have some ideas.

We called our motorhome dealer from back home first thing and when they got back to us they were great. After a chat with their engineer we were confident that it was definitely the regulator that had gone and given that we’d only had the van for six weeks, they offered to replace it as a goodwill gesture. They had one in stock and sent it via DPD to us. We were told this would take up to four business days and we had a weekend in between. The prospect of hanging around for another week in the same place felt like a bit of a waste, so our spirits were lifted when the campsite owner in Biot agreed to hold on to our delivery until we came back. We decided to head east along the coast for a bit then pick up the new regulator when it arrived.

We plumped for a campsite called Les Mures in the heart of the gulf of St Tropez. On first impressions it was a complete contrast to our previous place. Way more contemporary, immaculate facilities and beautiful landscaped gardens. It is sat right on a sandy beach with incredible views across the bay.

Following the stress of the van issues we needed a bit of a release and we’ve had an awesome few days exploring our new surroundings. On Friday we used the cycle lane to visit Port Grimaud located 3km along the bay. It’s a charming little port village that can only be accessed by foot or boat so it feels really peaceful. It’s called the little Venice of France because of the many canals weaving their way throughout the town. All the houses are painted in terracottas, creams and dusky pinks, and some feature wrought iron balconies. There are little Venetian-style bridges crossing the waterways, linking the different ‘streets’ and boutiques and restaurants on the waterfront.

We wandered through the little streets and gawped at the amazing boats in the harbour whilst we ate lunch.

On the Saturday we got up and out earlier to visit the market at St Tropez. Based on the beautiful Place des Lices, the market is a mix of fresh produce, crafts and fashion. There is definitely a St Tropez style and this is reflected in the gorgeous sun hats, white linen dresses and straw beach bags on sale. The whole place is immaculately presented and all the people are effortlessly chic.

It feels like a place to be seen, with cafes and restaurants lining the harbour and luxury boutiques rubbing shoulders with art galleries. The small town is packed with tourists in the day, all wanting a slice of St Tropez life and admiring the huge yachts at Vieux Port. It’s a completely different world, with butlers, private chefs, helicopters on the boats and Rolls Royce transfers to exclusive beach clubs.

Behind the gloss and glam there is a lovely core to St Tropez which was a simple fishing village before the likes of Brigette Bardot arrived in the 50’s and set the scene. We wandered up to a beautiful viewpoint and looked down upon the sun drenched, terracotta town and out towards the Mediterranean. In the afternoon we cycled on to Pampelonne beach which is about 4km along the coast from the town.

The road that we turned off onto was stunning, with vineyards on one side and fields of golden corn on the other. It made for a pleasant cycle away from the hustle and bustle.

The beach is 5km long and host to a string of celebrity studded beach clubs and bars – or so we hear. We ended up in the much less exclusive public section which was equally as beautiful. We sunbathed for a couple of hours before finding a bar that was showing England’s final match against Belgium. We were the only two Brits amongst 30 Belgium fans so losing was pretty grim.

We cycled back in the late afternoon sun, savouring the wonderful scenery. The cycle lane that hugs the coast is great because the main road is super busy and hectic. That said, the French are very respectful of cyclists, much more so than in the UK.

We got back with sore bottoms and hungry bellies. We watched the Bastille day fireworks from the van before falling asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillows.

The Lavender Route in Provence

08-07-18

We left Aix-en-Provence by 11.00am and headed East towards the Vaucluse area. I was so looking forward to going to the Provence region, my excitement based mostly around the food and produce from there. I had visions of rolling farmland, sun-filled fields of corn and long lazy lunches with chilled rose.

As it happens we were visiting at the perfect time to see the lavender fields in bloom. They come into full flower at the end of June/beginning of July and are harvested at the end of July. Each town has a lavender festival to mark the date of harvest. It was more of a happy coincidence than a master plan but timing is everything and we were happy to have lucked out with this one.

We were headed for another France-Passion stop in Valensole. We drove almost the whole journey with no glimpse at all of lavender and I started to get a little nervous that we had misjudged how grand of an occasion this actually was.

It was only in the last ten minutes that fields of pure purple unfolded before us. It was so much more impressive than I’d imagined, with row upon row of neatly planted lavender bursting with colour and fragrance. The France Passion stop was on a lavender farm on the outskirts of town and with the hosts no where to be seen, we plumped for a perfect spot overlooking fields. We jumped straight on the bikes to retrace the route we’d just made in the van and get some pictures.

There were a few coach tours out and about but we mostly had the roads to ourselves and it was like something out of a painting. It was so picturesque to cycle from field to field and stroll through the blooms. There was a constant low-level hum from the bees that were busily working away and hives dotted along the borders.

We decided to cycle down into the town of Valensole which is tiny but beautiful.

It’s basically a shrine to lavender, with every single item on sale either fragrance, flavoured or infused with the stuff!

We wandered around the pretty streets and found a nice cat to fuss over before a hefty, up-hill cycle back to Harvey. We had dinner and then watched the sun go down on the field we overlooked, not believing that this was another freebie.

The next day we moved on to another France-Passion site a few kilometres south on the Lac du Sainte Croix. We cruised through more beautiful scenery before arriving at yet another lavender farm. This place was more commercial and our host welcomed us to our spot which was in a gorgeous field behind the farm shop amongst olive trees and a vegetable patch.

Making great use of the bikes, we cycled through more amazing fields of lavender, this time flanked by rows of sunflowers. The richness of the purple contrasting with the sunburst yellow of the sunflowers was amazing.

We spent ages marvelling at the colours and taking photos before moving on. Just at this point a bee flew up my dress and promptly stung me right on the rump. Not knowing what it was but feeling a sharp pain I dropped my bag and pulled my dress right up, revealing way too much to the drivers passing by and found the sting. Thankfully it wasn’t too painful and considering the sheer number of bees that would fly into us as we were cycling, getting just one sting seemed ok.

From a viewpoint we could see the lake in all its glory.

It’s 11km long by 2km wide and is a stunning blue green colour. We freewheeled all the way down to the town, picking up speed on the steep descent and swerving into the hairpin turns. I was clinging on for dear life, wearing the rubber on my brakes, whilst Gary hurtled off into the distance.

Unfortunately we were too late to enjoy a fancy lunch at one of the terrace restaurants overlooking the lake, so we settled for a panini on the beach.

We sunbathed, snoozed and swam in the lake which was fresh and clear.

We wanted to wait for the fierce sun to calm before mustering the energy to climb back up the hill but even at 6pm it was incredibly hot.

We definitely earned our BBQ that night and we enjoyed it with a glass of wine from the France passion stop in Uzes. It’s such a great venture and so far all the stops have really delivered. We bought some handmade soap and lavender infused biscuits from our hosts and enjoyed them with tea in the evening, watching other guests play pétanque in the light of the setting sun.

Aix-en-Provence

For those who don’t already know, take a guess as to how to pronounce “Aix”. I would love to hear my Mum’s guess. Maybe some of you thought as I did it was a three sylable “aey-eye-ex”. As it turns out the correct way is much simpler and cooler, you simply have to say “X-en-Provence”.

Using our Camperstop App we found a random overnighter about 2km out of “X”.

The entrance looked promising.

However that was next door. This was our place.

Upon arrival at the correct place I was greeted by a very friendly Frenchman in the skimpiest of skimps. Emily actually guffawed at how ludicrous they were. Monsieur Smuggler showed me our pitch and gave me some useful information about the site and where to get the bus into X. Although super basic the pitch was side on to the most beautiful example of a wild flower border. Eat your heart out June and Mon x.

We sorted Harvey out with his awning, floor matt and chairs and headed for the bus into X. The bus was about a 5 minute walk down a steep hill to Pont L’arc. Mr Smuggler told us to take bus number 10 but as it happens bus 51 turned up first and an old man told us in French to jump on for centre ville. If this was a year ago we would have ignored him and waited for bus 10. Now we kinda just go with the flow and trust random strangers and know it will work out. Indeed, number 51 took us the 2km uphill to the bus station right in the middle of this pocket of left-bank Parisian chic.

X is all class: its leafy boulevards and public squares are lined with 17th- and 18th-century mansions, punctuated by gurgling moss-covered fountains. Haughty stone lions guard its grandest avenue, cafe-laced cours Mirabeau, where fashionable Aixois pose on polished pavement terraces, sipping espresso.

We spent an hour wandering the streets for the perfect place to have some lunch and people watch.

Who can resist a little bit of lemon drizzle cake or a coffee macaron?

We walked off all those calories through narrow polished stone streets from cool squares to the amazing cathedral.

We also needed to catch up on some blog writing as we have been traveling so much it has been hard to keep up. It wasn’t hard to find a suitable place to have a beer and knuckle down.

We even managed to find our French names up in writing.

And for Emily. Strictly speaking it should have been Le Porcelet.

After hard day being a tourist we were tempted by the onsite pool.

But decided it looked more like a swingers hangout so opted to binge watch “Love Island” on the free WiFi.

World Cup Madness in Avignon

04-07-18

We had a rather frustrating morning in Uzes before we left. We needed to do some washing so I grabbed the load and walked into town in search of the laundrette that we’d spotted the day before. I managed to grab the last, available machine and sat down to wait and watch the hive of activity of locals buzzing in and out and chatting. I was surprised at just how many locals still used the laundrette. This excitable puppy caused absolute havoc by escaping his lead, jumping on all the customers and running rings around his owner.

Gary sorted the van out and then picked me up. Since buying the bikes we’ve been on the lookout for a hardware store that could sort us out with a new number plate to attach to the bike rack. The current set up obscures the original number plate which is illegal. The first number plate holder that we bought was £50 and came with indicator lights but alas this didn’t fit. When we tried to return it we found that the shop had shut for an hour and a half for lunch. We waited in the stifling heat and were then told that the shop didn’t do refunds. Gary persuaded them eventually using much gesticulation and google translate and after much back and forth they relented and gave us our money back. We had about three trips back to the van to collect the right registration documents before they would print us a new number plate and we had to secure it to the back of the bike rack with a couple of Bungee ropes.

We eventually got on the road at around 3pm and reached the city of Avignon an hour or so later. We arrived at the Aire that we had picked out but thought it was a little out of town and deserted with no security so we drove on to the next campsite and booked in for two nights. We had a quick wander in the old town to pick up a map and get a feel for the place before heading back for dinner. First impressions were that it was a really majestic city with incredible buildings at every turn and a lovely quirky edge.

The next day we got up and ventured into town again to take in the sites. Avignon’s old city is surrounded by a medieval wall and packed with boutique lined streets and narrow walkways. The city boasts some incredibly grand architecture, including the Palais des Papes, the largest ever gothic palace which housed pope Clement v from 1309 to 1377.

We walked past the Pont St-Benezet bridge that was built in 1185 and half washed away in the 1600’s. It’s such an odd sight to see a bridge span out across the river and stop abruptly in the middle of the water. We walked up to the Rocher des Doms gardens that offered beautiful views out across the Rhone.

It was so incredibly warm with very little breeze that we took plenty of breaks in the beautiful squares dotted around the city. Avignon has a vibrant cafe culture with independent restaurants filled with locals eating and catching up outside in the sunshine. We found a couple of bars to watch the nerve wracking England World Cup match that went to penalties. The atmosphere was awesome and England’s win was the cherry on top of a great city day.

Narbonne and the bikes

In theory leaving an Aire should be quicker to leave than a campsite as you don’t get all the gear out of the garage. In practice because we used our own showers we had to refill with water and I had managed to leave the little hose adapter at the last place, doh. I thought we had a spare but couldn’t find it so I had to hold the hose to the tap whilst it sprayed half over me and half in the tank. Much to Emily’s amusement. The Aire was great and especially the morning view out of our window.

Onwards and eastwards to Narbonne to do a little shopping and see what’s going on in this small Romanesque town. Even though it is situated 15km from the shores of the Meditteranean it was once a prosperous port town. It is linked to the nearby Canal du Midi and the Aude River by the Canal de la Robine, which runs through the centre of town.

Spurred on by a fine experience of the last Aire we parked up in another about 2km out of town. This one looked less appealing but it was the only one. It did also have a massive Carrefour but more of that later.

As luck would have it the 2km into town was only 500m of shitty road followed by 1.5km of tree lined canal. A little squeak of excitement from Emily and i knew we were close to the centre. She had spied bunting.

We spent a lovely afternoon wandering around this pretty town taking in a few of the sights. Probably the most impressive was the Roman Catholic cathedral and its gardens.

Although Narbonne was pleasant enough it didn’t really set our world on fire. In the evening we decided to get out of the heat and do a bit of food shopping in the huge Carrefour. There are three additional benefits to a Carrefore despite the plentiful food. The aircon is insanely good especially after a full-on day in the heat. They have super fast free wifi for downloading movies, podcasts and spotify playlists. They have cheap AF bikes to enable us to travel further distances from Harvey.

In the morning we nipped into Les Halles food market for a mooch and a breakfast croque monsieur.

Next stop Uzes…

Blissful beach and peaceful paddie fields

It was hard to tear ourselves away from the pretty town but it was time to hit the beach. Taking advantage of the free hotel bikes we cycled the busy 3km along the main road. Not the most calming experience so we promised ourselves to find a more peaceful route back.

The Vietnamese are great at the hustle and true to form we encountered many women trying to coax us to park our cycles with them. For a fee or free if you buy a water. When you first rock up to a place it appears that you have to park with them, some even have whistles to look more offcial. We are getting better at being hard faced and working out which is the best deal.

An Bang beach is huge. Over 6km of whitish sand and very clean. The beach is pretty busy close to the main entrance but as it is so long there is always space if you want to get away from it all. We picked a couple of sunbeds under some dried bamoo umbrellas.

After a lovely day listening to podcasts and taking several dips in the chilly south China sea we grabbed a table at beach bar.

It seems the beer was a little too strong for some.

What a great little vibe this place had. Cool music, great bar and tasty BBQ chicken.

Someone clearly has the same philosophy…

Given our bikes didn’t have lights we thought it best to head home before dark. This time we found a route through the paddie fields. Green as far as the eye could see with little concrete lanes between them.

We even saw a woman laying on her buffalo. We suspected she was hustling again wanting money for pictures but we just snapped from a distance and quickly and cycled on.

As day turned to night we had one last fright as a pack of dogs came running out at us protecting their territory. We managed to scare them off by shouting even louder and swinging the bike at them. With that shot of adrenaline we peddled fast for home and the safety of the hotel. Enough adventure for one day…