Day 14a: Postscript

This way to the Way

It is only a 33 km trip from Tours (the end point of this stage of the Chemin de Compostelle) to our little village house, which is really my final destination. But I decided that rather than go the direct route, I'd follow a series a small country roads and paths, much like I'd done on the rest of the trip. I justified this to myself by the fact that the direct route is a main through road with fairly heavy traffic, but I knew that somehow I was also deliberately stretching out the final part of my journey. And in any case, the sun was shining and it was a glorious day for a ride. Why not make the most of it?

For most of the ride the prevailing winds have been from the south to south west, meaning I've had headwinds petty much every day. How ironic then, that the day I turn northwards to head home, the winds also change and are now from the north, meaning that even for the final day's ride, I still have headwinds. As the Irish guy I briefly chatted with earlier had said, when we were mutually complaining about the relentless winds: "Going uphill is hard, but at least you know there will be a downhill, there's no respite from headwinds."

Much nicer than the main roads

For some reason today I remembered something that François (from Québec, not Canada) had said, or more likely, quoted: "When you're young, you think with your heart; when you're older you think with your head." (*) It's a pity that for many people it indeed seems that it has to be one or the other; if more people could use both their heart and their head we'd all be better off.

So my heart wanted me to keep riding, but my head made me ride via some shops to buy some groceries so I'd be able to make dinner tonight. No more eating out every night; back to normal life, at least for a while. Of course now I've ridden the first and the last sections of the Camino, the middle part is waiting to be ridden...

Almost home: blue skies and the fields are flowering to celebrate

(*) I tried to trace the origin of this saying with the help of the Interweb. It seems that variations on this saying have been attributed to quite a few people over the years. The earliest appears to be French, from 1875, and attributed to Anselme Polycarpe Batbie : 'Celui qui n'est pas républicain à vingt ans fait douter de la générosité de son âme ; mais celui qui après trente ans, persévère, fait douter de la rectitude de son esprit.' This translates more or less to: "He who is not a republican [liberal] at twenty makes you doubt the generosity of his heart; but he who, after thirty, persists, makes you doubt the soundness of his mind."