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| There goes my drop bag! |
I made pretty good time getting to Loudéac on the way out, arriving just under my target of twenty-four hours. Psychologically, for me, this was huge: I felt that if I could get to Loudéac in one piece, then Brest was a mere hundred miles away or so...and a hundred miles is just a nice bike ride, right? And after you get to Brest, you're halfway done, with nothing left but to return.
Earlier that afternoon, I realized that I'd never bothered to look up the locations of my Loudéac and Mortagne-au-Perche hotels on maps. You idiot! Ok, so I'd paid a little more for the Loudéac hotel that was much closer to the control, plus I could ask Claus's drop bag folks where it was, so I figured things would work out ok.
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| This story occurs along the blue segment highlighted on the map. |
After getting controlled and downing some lovely mashed potatoes, I swung by the drop bags. The gentleman looking after the bags found mine in short order, and I asked if he could point me in the direction of Hôtel les Voyageurs.
Instead of pointing me to the hotel, he called to his buddy nearby, gave him my bag, and asked him to show me the way. I appreciated the offer, but noted that I could simply attach the pannier drop bag to my bike's rack and ride myself to the hotel -- if I were to be pointed in the right direction.
They reiterated that they'd show me the way, and the second gentleman, with my bag, asked me to follow him.
Ok, go with it: these folks are helping me out, and I'll be sure to get to my hotel.
I followed him around the corner...to his cloth-sunroof Citroën 2CV! It was painted super-bright yellow, with green fenders, and some super-cool Brittany artwork including cows and Brittany flags.
He hopped into his deux chevaux with my bag, and we were off.
I could hardly believe the coolness factor: here I was, being escorted to my hotel by a screamin' yellow Citroën over cobblestones and past centuries-old buildings, right in the heart of town. I was absolutely lovin' it!!
We seemed to be taking quite a circuitous route to get to the hotel, given that it was supposed to be fairly near the control. (Check out the map above.) Monsieur was driving at a mellow pace in the narrow streets, however, so I just cruised along behind. I figured we'd end up somewhere, eventually, so I just went along for the ride!
Soon enough, we arrived at the hotel. The main reason for the roundabout navigation turned out to be one-way streets going in all the wrong directions for traveling directly from the control to the hotel. Monsieur went into the hotel ahead of me with my bag, and handed me off to the réceptionniste to get started with check-in.
I thanked my escort, complimented him on his sweet ride, and smiled inside -- I never could have dreamed that I'd take part in a personal parade around Loudéac!
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