Europe - The Lions on the Road: Cycling London to Cape Town - page 35

Eventually I made it to Vivonne were I spent half an hour looking for a place to
sleep. Eventually, I slept beside the town's church in a small enclave. Aside from the oc-
casional tolling of a bell that woke me up, I slept peacefully and stayed dry. All said and
done, I cycled 165 kilometres.
The next morning I woke up early. I was quite thirsty and mentally preoccupied
with my broken spokes. I loaded up the bike and began to cycle. I wasn't enjoying the
ride for the fear of buckling my wheel was getting stronger. I ended up pulling into a rest
area next to the visitors' centre. I stripped the bike and came across two problems: first, I
couldn't get the free-wheel off (I was missing a tool) and the spokes, which were bought
in England, were too short!!! Note to reader : (1) never assume that what you buy is what
youget,alwayscheckyourpurchasebeforeyouleavethestore,and(2)doyourhomework
and educate yourself before arriving at a shop for not all salespeople know what they are
selling.
After spending more than an hour struggling with the free-wheel, a Frenchman ap-
proached me and asked me if I wanted a coffee. I politely declined and made another at-
tempt to remove the free-wheel. Even though the spokes were short, they still had a little
bit of holding power which in my mind was better than nothing. This would also give me
peace of mind until I arrived at a cycle shop. As my frustration level began to rise, two
employees from the visitor's centre approached me and asked if I wanted a free drink or
something to eat. Well…when have I ever refused free food? I said yes and told them that
I would be there in ten minutes. After gearing up the bike I went in and we began to chat.
They fed me items from the little shop: cereal bars, wafers and coffee. I stayed about an
hour and after exchanging addresses and taking a photo, I said au revoir.
I gingerly cycled trying to avoid any bumps on the road. I took a slight detour and
went to a service station to see if I could borrow some tools. Unfortunately, the attending
mechanic was drunk so we couldn't understand each other. Hence, I returned to the main
road and came across another blockade of farm tractors and trucks. We chatted for a little
bit and they gave me the green light to cycle through. Again, there I was in the middle of
the road changing lanes for the sheer fun of it. It was my private, over-sized bicycle path.
It was on this highway that I came across something that actually frightened me.
AsIapproachedatelephonelinethatstretchedacrossthehighway,Isawsomething
hanging from it. AsIgot closer,Ithought it was a person hanging there and became scared
that this strike had turned violent. I kept eyeing it as I approached and when I was about
20 meters from it, it dawned on me that it was an effigy of the Minister of Transportation
hanging by the neck. The French were very subtle.