People sometimes express envy of my wanderings. Not surprising, I mainly write about the good things. Here's a bad day. It includes:
Biking through what used to be malarial wetlands, transformed by the order of Napoleon III to boringly spooky pine plantations.
Finding the 'piste cyclable' (cyclable road) is a cracked pavement, littered with branches that break two of my spokes.
Knocking over the camp stove and tipping hot stew onto my sock. Without access to running water, this results in a burnt ankle.
So, for me, please sleep snug in your cosy little homes.
2 comments:
Yow-ouch! Have to admit my heart sank when you started with warming your feet by the camp stove, but tipping hot soup into your sock is both much less stupid and probably much more painful than what I was imagining.
I'm still jealous, but now sympathetic /and/ jealous.
OK, my jelousy is lessened for now. DId you make it to the UK yet cuz? :D
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