While staying at a little campsite on the outskirts of a small town by the name of 'Le Cloitre Saint-Thegonnec' in central Brittany i discovered something truely magnificent. I had my first real Crepe. I had stopped into a small Cafe and was watching the Tour De France on a small television in the corner having a beer. I had settled at this campsite nearby and so i had decided to treat myself with a few drinks and a good feed. I didnt really know what i wanted to eat and so i asked the man serving behind the counter. He told me that they sold food and would i like to see the menu. I studied the menu and at the same time a woman appeared from behind the bar/counter and informed me in near perfect english that they made wonderful Crepes. I agreed to have one and in next to no time i was eating away on a meal that i can only describe as utterly brilliant. The Crepe was really quiet big, it was square in shape with Cheese and Ham in the middle with Mushrooms and Mushroom sauce set on top in the centre of the plate.  It cleared the plate in what must have been record time.

 Crepes this side of town are really something else.

If i was to win the lottery tomorrow then i would jump back on my cycle as soon as possible and go, and then just keep going. There's something wierd and wonderful about waking up everyday in a different place, town or city.

 I have heard a story about a Japanese man who apparently tried to cycle around the globe, he spent years doing it. The person who told me about this man didnt know if he ever made it all the way around. I have tried myself to find information about this man and his story but i could not find anything. If anyone reading this knows anything about this man and his story then feel free to get in touch.

Onwards to Paris

I left St Hilaire and headed East after a relaxing stay and having wandered around taking in the local sights. St Hilaire had a Magnificent Church in the town centre which reminded me of The Cathedral in Armagh back home.

I cycled on and as the day progressed i came to a beautiful area overlooking a lake. There was a campsite not far away and so i decided to stay here for the night. The campsite turned out to be right by the lake with leisure facilities for passing tourists including a bar/retaurant and boating outings.

I locked up my bike and got talking to some tourists at the bar. Later i went for a walk around the lake to take in the sights, the walk was a little tough and so after a while i decided to head back to the bar. I was tired from the day cycling too. I chatted to a friendly woman who owned the bar. Im my very broken french i was telling her i had cycled from Northern Ireland. The was not very busy so i got the impression she enjoyed the company. I later went into the Restaurant to get food, i was very hungry. The waiter seemed to ignore me as i sat down. He seemed to only concern himself with the groups entering the restaurant. I was starting to get peeved, i got his attention and he took my order, a little reluctantly i may add. I waited for a long time, fortunately there was a splendid view overlooking the lake from where i sat.

I got fed and hit the sack (or in my case, the sleeping bag).

Up early the next day heading towards Paris.

Set up the tent in a strange place. It was a camp site but with no-one around. Even when there is no visitors there is usually someone to pay for using the facilities on site, here there was nobody. I was a little concerned because i didnt really know where i was. I think the last sign i saw on the way here said 'Le Mesla' a small town somewhere in mid Normandy. It was strangley quiet. I didnt like it here but i had no choice. I set up camp and that was it, i took a walk around the camp site. There was facilities here, it was a large campsite incorporated into a local park area with a pond, wooded surroundings and even a little beach but no people. It was getting dark so i headed back to the tent. Later as i was dozzing in the tent, i heard a sound of a Moped coming towards me. It stopped near to where i was. I young man of around 17 was walking around the campsite on his own. I saw him get off the bike, he was walking towards the pond, i dont think he seen me. I was watching him, a little nervous i might add. I thought about going to him and having a chat. I had not talked to anyone all day, i thought better of it and watched what he was doing. He picked up small stones and began hurling them at the ducks in the pond, very hard. He seemed to get pleasure from watching the Ducks flap around and make lots of noise. How strange is this, this to him seemed to be some sort of silly past-time. This went on for sometime. It was about 10Oclock at night and he had been throwing stones at the Ducks for around half an hour. Why? i thought. He must be seriously bored or something. I got up and started walking towards him and as i did he must have sensed something and turned around. He looked at me and was surprised, but did not seeem embaressed at all by his antics. He looked at me turned and walked to his Moped, he sped off spinning dust into the air. Good, i thought maybe now i can get some sleep.

I went to bed and dropped off to sleep very quickly.

The next day i was up and at it by 6am, getting up early was easy for me, especially when life is like this, i guess this sort of thing is not everyones cup of tea, but to me it was exciting.