135km covered in 6hr19
average speed 21kmph
max 52
odometer reads 1320km
It's 7pm, we've been cycling all day. We've been through Hazel's tantrum over toilet roll, throwing the contents of all 4 panniers out on a genteel lawn to the amusement of two old folk on a bench, yet another flat tyre, a coffee stop in an old folks home where we consumed a frog 'cake' made entirely of buttercream. Our next settlement Bygdea is our last hope for a supermarket and dinner before our intended destination of Umea, still 40km away. We cycle through, and through, and we are through the other side, empty panniers, no shop, no cafe, no life. I am exhausted, I've run out of food and nearly out of water and I really don't want to go on. For the first time, I feel a slight sense of wanting to be somewhere else. Two options, of pushing
on for 40km with no supplies, or camping in the wild, still without water. I have visions of us being found john
mccandless style, bellies bloated with poisonous wild seed! Into the wild, and low on water. Schoolboy error. Of course I'm not thinking logically, for this Sweden, and we can only be 2 metres awaty from some sort of lake! My skin is wet with salty sweat and starting to turn cold and clammy as evening sets in. Momentarily I consider licking my arm, as all I crave is water and salt to replenish my body. I'm
giving hope on a good end to the day and I feel heavy in every way. Hazel spurs us on and picks up the pace, we plough on, push push push, just keep pedalling I tell myself. We cycle through a tiny hamlet called Ratan, and just as I am about to scrabble down to the lake for water, there appears out of nowhere, like a vision from the cycling gods, a beautiful large old house with a Kultur sign. I don't hold out much hope, especially as the sign on the door states a closing time of 7pm and it's now well past. Undeterred, Philippa charges in and manages to negotiate us a meal at a candlelit table! In we go in sweaty Lycra, to one of the top rated establishments in the county, in National Trust esque surroundings. I'm
imagining a piece a piece of bread an a glass of milk, but the sweet waitress in perfect English informs us we can have what's left ofthe all you can eat buffet! Ice cold glass bottles of coca cola are brought to our starched white linen table cloth. The sweetest most refreshing drink ever tasted. I could have cried! We are invited to help ourselves to food and I try unsuccessfully to express my gratitude to little waitress, but I think she can see how hungry I am! She then proceeds to bring out fresh trays of everything, despite the restaurant being closed. The food, dear god, the food was without doubt the best meal we've all ever eaten, both in terms of taste and satiation of hunger! The blonde swede with her sing song voice kept those plates coming; roast salmon, salad, pickled herrings, dauphinoise potatoes, meatballs, sweet tender veal, cream mushrooms, beetroot and salmon salad, fruits in mayonnaise, breads, quiche, the richest most delicious food was overwhelming. Despite our ravenous appetites we thought it eat to stop after two servings for fear of bodies going into shock and vomiting over the beautiful table! Dinner was rounded off with blueberry pie and coffee, and we left the two workers to lock up with a very generous and well deserved tip. It's times
like these I feel that somebody somewhere is looking out for us, a god of cykelsparet picks us up when we are down, and everything seems to work out ok. This place wasn't marked in any of our books or maps, and yet it just appears, in our hour of need.
No comments:
Post a Comment