Day 3. Hills/Pain & Pints.

I'm composing this in the toilets of the municipal campgroung in
Pontivey. First off ill let you know that no one ever inspected the
campsite in Huelgoat and I left very early so my stay there was free,
I fully intended to pay but when you see how remote the site was I
don't blame the official for not bothering making the trek out there.
Today didn't start so well. I didn't realize I was so far from Carhaix
Plonger and there were many hills between me (Huelgoat) and Carhaix.
The headwind didn't help either. I also picked up an injury somewhere
along the way it started as a funny lil pain in my knee and became
agonising later on. Carhaix plonger was a bit of a let down when I
finally got there I found a pretty modern french town and a very busy
french town. On the plus side I've entered an area covered by a mobile
phone provider that supports my network in a roaming sense. So I got
to talk to my girl after a three day silence and also let my family
know I'm ok. It turns out they were very worried by my silence and the
fact that I didn't bring my helmet. As I'm travelling on quiet country
roads at speeds of between 2Kmph and 10kmph in 25 degrees C. I didn't
think it would be necessary or comfortable, I'm sweating buckets
already. I made Gurin by about one o clock after 50Kand felt I had the
energy and time to press on to Pontivey a further 50 odd Kilometers
and as there were no campsites anywhere I sort of felt I had to. So I
did. I also thought my luck had changed because the last 10Km to Gurin
had been mostly flat with wonderful countryside and good extremely
quiet roads. I was wrong to make this assumption, I was in for 50Km of
wind hills and busy roads. I crawled into Pontivey after five hours af
hard work. But now I was to be rewarded. Pontivey is energetic
beautiful has a campsite near the town and a nice canal running
through its centre. I checked into the campground beside the canal,
ate had a nice hot shower and headed out to explore. After about an
hour I found a curious looking establishment called (Cant remember)
inside was decorated to resemble a morrocan hash house. The elderly
female hippy behind the bar was delighted to have a customer and so I
drank several pints of bemish smoked a cigarette that was so kindly
offered to me and managed to maintain a sort of conversation with her
until she was relieved by her husband an elderly male hippy. When I
had had ny fill I walked back to the campsite along the canal watching
the pike cruise below the surface accasionaly jumping for flys. A
wonderful end to a difficult day. So here I find myself utilizing the
wall socket in the gents wash room to write this note. Tomorrow
promises to be an easy trek to Josselin according to the lonely planet
guide to cycling in france, flat off the road and only 50Km,
apparently. Until then bye bye.