Friday, September 16, 2016

Loire à Vélo - the analysis

I've summarised here the vital statistics of my recent bike trip along the Loire River, together with a comparison with my previous two trips.

This type of meal won't break the bank

A few things come out of these numbers:

The daily cost for the Loire trip was higher than the previous two trips, in fact more than twice that of the Camino de Santiago in 2014. The main factor here is the accommodation since the food, although getting higher each year, hasn't changed enormously. These numbers aren't really a surprise, in particular the accommodation which is comparing staying in hostels and dormitory rooms (the first Camino) with bed and breakfast type accommodation (Loire). Also, Spain is a cheaper place than France. I could have easily spent much more on accommodation on the Loire trip; it's not difficult in France to spend 100 euros/day on accommodation in a modest hotel for example.

The Financial summary:
Loire à Vélo
(2016)
Camino part 2
(2015)
Camino part 1
(2014)
Food
234 (33/day)
320 (29/day)
430 (21/day)
Accommodation
287 (41/day)
317 (29/day)
308 (10.50/day)
Travel
0
31
247
Other
0
21
87
Total Cost
521
689
1,072
Daily Average
74
58
33
(all figures in Euros, daily averages exclude special days)


Regarding the distances and hours spent in the saddle, I think the numbers reflect the style of the trip as well as to some extent the terrain. The almost flat terrain for the Loire trip explains the generally higher average speeds, and also the consistency of the numbers (I rode much the same distance and time every day).

Some tracks may slow you down or not be the shortest route (but will be more interesting)
Four hours riding per day is an easily and realistically achievable average to use for route planning. This assumes you want to ride most of the day and not spend time visiting sights along the way or taking extended rests. Similarly, an average of 15 km/h (or 60 km/day) is a good planning number. In practice, the distance you ride is always longer than you've planned, as a result of detours, small sightseeing excursions and other unplanned riding. Bike paths generally also do not follow the shortest route between two points, but rather follow less-travelled minor roads or tracks through field and forests. That makes the riding much more pleasant, but does make the distance longer.


The Engineering Summary
Loire à Vélo
Camino part 2
Camino part 1
Total number of days
8
14
18 *
Total distance ridden (km)
572
1,110
1,031
Total time on the bike (hrs)
34.2
75.8
66.8
Average speed for the trip (km/h)
16.7
14.7
15.4

Average hours ridden / day
4.3
5.4
3.9
Average distance ridden / day
71.5
79.3
60.6

Longest distance ridden in one day (km)
85.3
105.7
84.5
Shortest distance ridden in one day (km)
63.2
49.7
34
Most hours ridden in one day (hrs)
5.0
7.1
6.2
Least hours ridden in one day (hrs)
3.8
3.5
2.1
Highest average speed (km/h)
17.8
15.0
19.1
Lowest average speed (km/h)
15.6
13.5
12.4

* Includes one rest day

Loire à Vélo - bed for the night

A few notes on the various types and styles of accommodation I encountered during my week cycling along the Loire River. Due to time constraints, and the fact that it was still a relatively busy time of year, I pre-booked every night. This has the big advantage that you are sure that you will have a bed for the night (and so I did not need to pack a tent or sleeping bag). But it also means you lose the flexibility to travel on a whim, diverting or delaying based on what you discover along the way.

Day 1: Bréhemont. Booked via Airbnb, 28 euros. A room in an old house that is part of a collection of farm buildings in a small village along the Loire. The hosts were a relaxed and easygoing couple who'd done their share of travelling. Parked in and around the farm were a campervan, a couple of motorbikes, several bicycles, and a kayak. The house had been restored by the host and was quirky with lots of random furniture and interesting home-built fittings and fixture such as the (frosted) glass wall in the shower leading in to the living room. Clearly not a successful feature, since a curtain had been placed over the window (otherwise you would probably have a nice "picture window" blurry view of whoever was taking a shower at the time. The bathroom was shared and the kitchen made freely available to guests. Not at all commercial, just a room in their house which they let out, which is what Airbnb should be all about. 

Breakfast laid out for me in the morning
Day 2: Les Rosiers-sur-Loire. Booked via Airbnb, 26 euros. Another room in someone's house, not at all commercial. The host was a widow living in the home she had shared with her husband for many many years until he unexpectedly died while on a trip to the UK. Now she's letting a room as a way to meet people and have some distraction. A really nice experience, feeling more like being invited into her house as a guest than as a customer. In the morning there was a surprisingly complete and carefully presented breakfast waiting for me; a very nice touch. The bathroom was upstairs with the bedroom and for the sole use of the guest.

Day 3: Montjean-Sur-Loire. Chambre d’Hôte, 50 euros. A commercial establishment, although on a reasonably small scale and run alone by a woman who has tried her hand at many things. She had two children in the house as well, which was their home.  The whole place had little touches of her everywhere and she was clearly passionate about what she was doing. Everything done by hand: from the decorations to the jams for breakfast. Early days for her, having just started. I stayed here because there were no Airbnb-style options in this area, and I did not want to stay in an anonymous hotel. A good choice.

One-star experience in Nantes
Day 4: Nantes. Hotel, 50 euros. A one star hotel in the main part of town. Tiny room and even tinier bathroom. Toilet was placed so you couldn't even sit straight on it, there's not enough room for your knees! You wonder how people can build stuff like that. Room looked into the courtyard space, a fairly standard arrangement in this style of city apartment. Advertised as "bike friendly" to attract the Loire à Vélo customers, the bike storage was in fact a store room reached by pushing the bike through the main front door, around some tight corridors and up and then down several stairs. Perfectly serviceable, but totally without any charm or other appeal. A bed for the night and not much more. Very well located right in the middle of Nantes, walking distance to some great restaurants and with a goor boulangerie right next door that also served coffee, and so was perfect fro breakfast. I stayed here because I wanted a central location, was too cheap to go to an expensive hotel, and the Airbnb options tended to be apartments with little or no (obvious) facilities for storing the bike.

Day 5: Chalonnes. Booked via Airbnb, 25 euros. A room in a large monopoly house in a lotissement (subdivision) on the hill above the old town. Artistic and musical couple, with three young kids. They made me feel welcome and were very relaxed and easygoing; I let myself out of the house in the morning. Clothes everywhere; spoiling out of the washing machine, hanging over the banisters to dry, in great piles on the couch waiting to be folded. Paintings (very good) on all the walls, done by the mother. Bathroom was shared with the children. Non-commercial and an interesting experience with a little glimpse of modern French family life.

Day 6: Saumur. Booked via Airbnb, 43 euros. A large 1970's house overlooking a golf course. The owners are recently retired dentists, and she is setting up for guests a few of the bedrooms once used by the children. Quality fittings and furnishings and an overall upmarket feel, matched by the price compared to other Airbnb offerings. Each room had its own little bathroom. No offer of breakfast, although I had a coffee and a chat with the host in the morning.

Day 7: Langeais. Chambre d’Hôtes. 65 euros. The most expensive night of the trip. A really lovely chambre d’hôtes run by a gay couple. The rooms are at the back of a fascinating shop selling all sorts of bric-a-brac and reproduction antiques; the type that makes you wonder how they can ever make any money. It's a shop full of all sorts of antiques and curiosities. The rooms are lovingly decorated and there a really comfortable feel to the place. Right next to the château and the best restaurant in town. In the morning there was an enormous breakfast feast of almost exclusively home-made produce. Very charming and welcoming host who clearly loved what he was doing. A nice place to stay for  my last night, and a good address for the future.


Breakfast feast in Langeais

Monday, September 12, 2016

Loire à Vélo - day 8: the return

Breakfast at Langeais
I come down to breakfast to find an enormous table, which seats ten comfortably, laden with food of all sorts: breads, croissants, fruits, yoghurts, juices, cakes, jams and on it goes. The host appears and explains that everything, except the croissants, is fait maison. Even the yoghurts in their little glass jars are homemade. "How do you find the time to do all that and also run a shop?" I ask him. "Well, when I'm alone it's pretty hectic," he admits, "but when my partner is here it's a little easier. He's a steward with Air France so he's gone for days at a time". I do my best to refrain from thinking too hard about the typecasting that's happening here; he's pretty camp in his mannerisms, his partner is an airline steward. From my experience to date, the places run by gay couples seem to invariably be beautifully done with care and attention to detail.This place is no exception.

I do my best to do justice to the breakfast spread, including the freshly-cooked paper thin crêpes which appear unasked for. The fresh bread - aux rasins today - is wonderful, the almond butter cake is delightful, the homemade yoghurt is perfect. But I can't fit in a piece of the lemon and poppy seed cake though and he notices. "Would you like me to wrap a couple of slices for you for a snack on your ride today? Then you won't have to miss out." Wonderful!

The ride today is more like 'Le Cher à Vélo' since it's actually following the river Cher for much of the route into Tours (the Cher joins the Loire west of Tours). The route passes by Villandry, with its château with its amazing gardens, which are colour coordinated and are changed with the seasons. Like many of the famous châteaux open to the public, it is actually privately owned. You may not agree with people having so much money that they can afford this sort of thing, but on the other hand, if it weren't for them, many of these places would be closed and in a state of disrepair.

The route following the river is very pleasant and it seems clear that the closer it gets to the city of Tours, the better maintained it is and the more facilities there are. There are even rest areas just for the bike path, complete with bicycle parking areas. It's not long before I come across another type of cyclist to add to my collection: an older couple, both riding electric bikes, both with pannier bags. But she has a basket on the back of her bike with their little dog in it, who is happily taking in the slowly passing scenery. Taking the dog on a bike trip? It reminds me of a garden sculpture I saw yesterday of a family on bikes, also with a dog in a basket.

Wallaby in Tours ignoring me
Near Tours I divert from the signposted route and navigate my way into the city. I'm going to make a little detour to catch up with some compatriots in the jardin botanique: right in the middle of Tours there's a botanical garden that also has some animals (and you thought that botanical gardens were for plants, right?) The collection even includes a couple of emus and a family of wallabies which I have come to see. They do not pay me the slightest attention, even though I've travelled all this way to see them.

From Tours I head up into the upmarket suburbs on the north bank of the Loire - which involves more climbing that I'd like - and finally I set the direction back to my starting point. There's one more little excursion to make though. I've seen a dolmen on the map, which I had no idea was there, so I plan my route to go and have a look. It is in the middle of what are now wheat fields, but there's a path to it. It is just unbelievable how 4,000 years ago people were able to manoeuvre such truly massive pieces of rock into position, placing some vertically and then others horizontally over the top. And how did they get those enormous pieces of rock there in the first place?

Dolmen de la Grotte aux Fées (with bike for scale)
A final hour's cycling and suddenly I'm pushing my bike back into the house again, almost like I never left. Tomorrow I'll be giving the bike a thorough service, ready for the next adventure.

Distance today: 68.4 km, riding time: 3:56



Sunday, September 11, 2016

Loire à Vélo - day 7

Not all of Saumur is closed this Sunday morning - luckily
It's Sunday morning and Saumur is closed. There's a light drizzle to start the day as I ride back to the Place Saint Pierre to find it completely deserted; quite a contrast from last night. I explore the little alleys around the square and find, happily, that the one place that's open this morning is a boulangerie, so all is not lost. A bit later I notice another lone cyclist, a guy of a certain age. "British" I think to myself, although exactly on what I'm basing that I'm not sure. For the first part of today's ride I've decided to cross the river and see what the road on the other side is like. Just after crossing the bridge I spot the cyclist again. Later as I'm riding along the river I can see him following me some distance behind.

After a while I stop for a drink and he pulls up next to me. "Are you Deutsch?" are his first words; it seems he's been making assumptions like me, only he's wrong and I'm right. I wonder why he throws in the German word for German; maybe to show he speaks the language? We chat.

Morning on the Loire at Saumur
He's come over from the UK in his camper van and is making short rides on his bike using his van parked at a campsite as his base. I ask if he's traveling alone. He clearly wants to talk and my question triggers it. He explains that his wife died last year and that afterwards he couldn't sleep without pills; he couldn't stay in the house alone. So he's decided to head off and travel and start again. Now he sleeps.

I cross back to the south bank using the bridge at Turquant. It's an old narrow iron bridge only just wide enough for two lanes of traffic.  All along the bridge I spot fragments of mirror on the sides of the roadway, which at first puzzles me. Then I realise it's the result of vehicles that are too wide or poorly driven either hitting the metal bridge supports with their mirrors or hitting each other's mirrors when passing. Obviously it's a common occurrence; there's a lot of pieces of broken mirror.

Montsoreau is a very different place to what it was when I passed through here a few days earlier. Now it's a Sunday morning and the place is jam packed with cars and people, a real tourist mecca. It turns out that it's also the marché aux puces, held every second Sunday. The street is full of stalls selling everything from bric-a-brac and antiques to fruit and veg, meats and cheeses, and revolutionary new home insulation systems.

This is where the cheese comes from
I've stopped at the market to take a picture of a guy selling goat's cheese; he has a baby goat standing amongst the cheeses which is a pretty cute and innovative way of attracting customers. "Where are you heading?" asks a voice with a strong New Zealand accent suddenly. There's a woman standing next to me looking at my map. We chat; she's cycling some of the EV6, which the Loire à Vélo is part of. The whole EV6 route starts at the Black Sea and covers over 3,650 km; she's going to Basel, about halfway.

Further on, I see an older couple at a picnic table and I decide to stop to have my own morning snack  - I'm not bothering with the coffee today. I sit at the table next to theirs. The couple is French and their picnic lunch consists of a bottle of wine, bottles of both still and sparkling water, a baguette, and various pâtés, meats and cheeses. Very civilised; they are well prepared. When they've finished he takes out a crossword puzzle book and she takes out a large novel and they settle in for perhaps the afternoon.

A family that rides together
I ride on, past the place where days earlier the Dutch couple had been cycling in circles. After a little while I notice many of the bike riders coming the other way have rain jackets on and their waterproof covers over their luggage. 'A bit of an overkill', I think to myself. After all, we've just had a tiny bit of drizzle. Then I notice that the bike path is rather wet and a little later the real rain starts. Nothing dramatic luckily, but enough to soak me after ten minutes or so. I ride on and the showers pass, although it alternates between showers and sun for most of the rest of the day. Just as you've dried out, it rains again and the cycle (no pun intended) repeats.

I can't arrive at my B&B until 17:00 so I decide to make a detour to visit Chinon, home of one of the major Loire Valley châteaux. It's a pleasant ride there, although I know it will mean a little bit of hill work afterwards to get back to the Loire. I ride around the town, which is dominated by the castle high above. Just as I'm thinking about starting the climb I spot an elevator. It's been set up to make it easier for those on the low level to get up to the castle and it's big enough to take bikes! I don't hesitate nor do I let my pride stop me from taking advantage of this shortcut; there'll be more hills to climb after this.

Yes, I took the elevator up to the château at Chinon
The route back to the Loire cuts straight through the Chinon royal forests; it's a lovely ride except for the fact that the obvious downside of such a straight road is that it has to go over the hills and down through the valleys, so it's a little hard going at times. There's a reward at the end when I have a long high speed descent back down to the Loire, briefly exceeding the 50km/h speed limit as I enter Rivarennes.

At Langeais, my stop for today, my B&B is right next to the castle where Ann de Bretagne secretly married King Charles VIII in 1491 to secure the merger of Brittany and France. If she were still there she could be looking out of her room down at me. Such intimacy with history is something I love about Europe.

The restaurant for tonight is the best (and on a Sunday night, essentially the only) restaurant on town. It's also right next door, which is pretty convenient. Everyone is outside in the garden terrace; it's a lovely evening. I can hear more English than French being spoken it seems. All the tables are occupied by either French or British (plus a lone Australian).

There's a lot of material here for an entire blog entry: I could write about the woman with the dog, which she regularly puts on her lap and then occasionally kisses (all during dinner). I could write about the Irish couple (she with stereotypical red hair). I could note the guy who's so big I'm afraid the cane chair is not going to survive. I might wonder about the young English woman having dinner with a guy more than old enough to be her father (which he may well be, let's give them the benefit of the doubt). And more. But it's my last meal on this trip so maybe tonight I'll just enjoy my meal and take it all in without writing it all down.

As I leave the restaurant I notice that there are several British registered cars parked outside, which of course is hardly a surprise. Among them is an old Jaguar XJ140, which interestingly I met coming the other way this afternoon on my ride from Chinon. Small world.
View of Langeais Castle from my B&B

Distance today: 68 km. 4.2 hours ridden

Saturday, September 10, 2016

Loire à Vélo - day 6

The house is quiet when I get up. I'd been warned last night by my hosts that they were late sleepers and that I might have to let myself out in the morning. I had been asked whether I wanted tea or coffee in the morning and given my experiences with hot beverages I hedged my bets: "Whatever you're having", I had answered vaguely. "We only have instant coffee", I was told, "but we have real tea." Tea it was then. Instant coffee? That said a lot. "We might not be up when you leave" they'd told me, "just help yourself, like it's your own place." I love the fact that it's still possible to find trust like this and be welcomed into someone's home.
Early morning at Chalonnes


 Today is going to a bit different; since I'm trying to avoid retracing my steps and since in this section there's really only one option for following the river, I've decided to head inland and have a little tour of the local vineyard country. I'll try to follow little tracks along a river (le Layon) with the idea of avoiding traffic and avoiding hills. It will be a navigational exercise as well, why not?

Cabernet d'Anjou in the making
It's coffee time and I arrive in Thouarcé, the biggest village in the area I've been cycling through this morning. Entering the town square, past the rather imposing church there's a welcome sight: right there on the main square is a boulangerie and right on the other side of the square is a café. The town square is bordered on each of the four sides by the church, the town hall, the café, and the boulangerie (and the coiffeur). All the essentials for daily life in country France: bread, coffee and alcohol, religion, public servants, and a place to get your hair done.

The café is obviously one of the standard French grim drinking and betting places, but it will serve coffee at least. There's some tables outside and a couple of local guys are already there with beers in hand. I enter the boulangerie, which looks like it belongs in a 1940's movie set, as do the customers. It's great. Everyone says "Bonjour" when I walk in, and "au revoir" when they leave, something I rather like about France. The back wall is covered with racks of fresh bread (of course, this is a boulangerie after all) and the display cases have small collections of various pastries: just simple country fare - apple tart, pear tart, mixed fruit tart, croissants and pains au chocolat. No fancy creamy confections here! There's another display case with an example of one of each of the canned drinks and packaged snacks they sell, neatly arranged in a row. The lady serving, and apart from me, the customers, look like they've been coming to this bakery since it opened in the 1940's.

I've been sitting at my table outside the café for half an hour (the church bells have chimed twice already) and the two guys drinking beer have gone and been replaced by three more tables of local workers. All of them have beers and I am definitely the odd man out with my coffee (apart from the fact that I'm sitting next to a bike and am wearing a bright yellow vest and cycling shorts, of course).
As I ride out of the square and around the corner onto the main street the first thing I see is another boulangerie: this one is much larger and more modern with a display case bursting will all sorts of fancy looking pastries. I'm glad I saw the old one first. The coffee, it must be said, was not all bad.

Riding through the forests near Louerre, I notice the old high stone wall along the road, marking an old wealthy property. Soon I can see the neatly maintained gardens, park-like. "Just another château" you could amongst be forgiven for thinking in France, where there seem to be regal old buildings everywhere, sometimes in the most unlikely places. A little further on I see a large beautifully built stone building; something you'd love to have as your house. 'Not  a very large château' I think to myself as I cycle past. But just as I'm thinking this, an enormous slate-roofed stone turreted edifice appears in the background. Of course; I'd mistaken the gatehouse for the main building! There was some serious money in the hands of a few back then. Not a lot has changed, you might justifiably say.
I decide to follow a few forest paths for the last section of my route today, planning to rejoin the Loire à Vélo route just before my final destination. As I'm speeding down a long hill to rejoin the path along the river (reversing all the climbing I've done today) I realise I may have made a tactical mistake. Sure enough, the B&B I am staying at turns out to be on a rise, forcing me to climb partly back up the hill I've just coasted down. Sigh.

The house I'm staying at overlooks a golf course and is set at the edge of a forest. Not a bad spot. I park my bike in the carport next to a large BMW motorbike. Also parked nearby are three cars, a quad bike and three lawn mowing ride-on type tractors. There's also several bicycles. Someone clearly likes their toys in this household.

For dinner I have to ride into town, which turns out to be further than I'd expected, adding another 10 km (there and back) to my ride for the day. A good excuse to have a nice meal I convince myself. Nearing the town, a group of cyclists laden with gear ask me for directions. It seems that without my bags I've been taken for a local cyclist. Luckily I can help them.

Dinner Menu
The restaurant I've chosen is right on Place Saint Pierre, the main square overlooked by the large Eglise Saint Pierre. I guess that the square was named after the church but it could always have been the other way around I suppose. I've already spotted a good table outside and I park my bike next to it. The table has a 'reserved' sign on it. I go in and ask for a table outside and explain that I want to keep an eye on my bike The waitress is lovely and she takes the reserved sign off 'my' table and puts it on another one. Although it's early, I've arrived just in time since after I sit down they begin turning people away; the restaurant is full for the evening.

Sitting here I have a wonderful position to observe the comings and goings of life in Saumur. There are so many little snapshots here it's difficult to know where to start:

Right next to restaurant I'm at there's a hole-in-the-wall kebab place, called, with impressive lack of imagination, 'Le Chawarma kebab' which loosely translates (correct me if I'm wrong) as 'the kebab kebab'. The contrast in the clientele between the two places couldn't be more obvious. It's a completely different demographic. People are standing around the kebab place waiting for their orders. A girl waiting there is wearing tight black jeans and seems oblivious of the fact that her fly is undone. Either the guy she's with hasn't noticed or he doesn't know her well enough yet and doesn't dare tell her.

An old white-haired lady is looking out over the square, taking on the goings-on from her roof level window in a building on the other side of the square; nobody seems to notice.

A dog cocks its leg on a chair at the next restaurant; nobody seems to notice.

There's a cat patiently waiting for scraps; it sits beside each table as food is served and looks up imploringly; nobody seems to notice.

A guy with an enormous beer belly hanging out below his T-shirt, wearing baggy shorts and what look like hotel or airline slippers is taking photos of the church with a large tablet. Only his improbably-dressed wife seems to notice. They walk away, both chewing their finger  nails with gusto.

An Indian woman struggles as she pushes a pram with two plump children (who look like they are much too old to be in the pram) uphill across the square; nobody seems to notice her.

A guy, who seems to mute, notices (as I do) a girl at a nearby table pat the balding head of her companion after taking his photo. With a big smile and using sign language he asks if they would like him to take a picture of the two of them, which the girl accepts.

The smell of marijuana wafts through the square; this is unexpected but nobody seems to notice.

There's a gorgeous sunset happening; the clouds are turning a gorgeous pink against the darkening blue sky. The cat takes up its position at the table next to mine. The couple on my right is reaching the end of their bottle of red and she is lighting up her post-main-course cigarette. On my left they are debating whether to have dessert. Behind me there's a loud American woman giving advice to table next to hers.

The sun sets over the Place St. Pierre, Saumur
The pink is gone from the sky and the lights come on in the square. An elderly couple walk through the square arm in arm, noticing only each other.

There's a lone diner having dinner accompanied only by his bicycle and the remains of half a bottle of red wine. He's furiously tapping away at his smartphone; every so often he looks up, seems to spot something interesting, and then he's back tapping away at his smartphone again. Nobody notices him (or so he thinks).

The girl at the next table (who has finished her cigarette) gets up to go to the toilet; her chair, weighed down by her heavy handbag, topples over and crashes to the ground. This is the second time this has happened and you can see in his look that her companion isn't impressed.

At the kebab place, a guy and a couple with two small children are sitting at a table. The guy produces a large tin and reaches into it, taking out something which he's putting into a contraption he's holding on his other hand. It looks like it might be tobacco, but... He closes the contraption, makes a few practised movements, and out pops a cigarette complete with filter. He repeats the process and this time, since I can observe the whole thing from the beginning, I notice that he seems to be starting the process with a normal cigarette. Curious. Their order of lamb burgers with chips arrives and the kids get fed chips with the occasional piece of bread. It's probably not a surprise that both little girls are already rather plump.

All three adults at the table with the two little girls are now engaged intently with their smartphones. The two little girls amuse themselves, ignoring both their parents and the smartphones.

There's a group at the bar across the square who are getting more and more boisterous. I get another waft of rather interesting side stream smoke. I sip my espresso (which, you will be reassured to note, is watery and dull). It's time to get in my bike and wobble home.

The ride home turns out to be interesting: it is pitch black, the clouds have covered the sky, there's no visible moon and the bike paths are unlit. I'm very glad I have a Dutch bike with a headlight, but the only drawback is I can't stop. Each time I stop to read a sign to help make a decision to turn left or right, the light goes out and of course I see nothing. I work from memory and good luck; there's a narrow bridge crossing the river and at the far end there's a choice between left or right: one is the continuation of the bike path, the other has steps leading down to the river. If I stop to see which is which my light will go off and I'll see nothing. If I keep pedaling and make a choice I have a 50℅ chance of unexpectedly riding down steps, but at least I'll see what I've chosen. Fortunately I choose the right one and eventually arrive back at the house.

Distance today: 68 km, 4 hours riding.