PBP 2015: Locked in a barn

Yep! This barn.

After enjoying a big lunch and a bit of a break with Keith B. at Fougères in the 1pm hour on Wednesday on the return, I headed out on a gorgeous, sunny afternoon to continue on my way back to Paris.

This story occurs along the blue segment highlighted on the map.

Within about an hour of leaving Fougères, I started to get groggy.  Despite having had a luxurious four hours of shuteye in Loudéac in both directions, the combination of my full belly, the warm sun, the siesta time of day, and being down a bit on my regular caffeine meant only one thing:  this was ditchnap time.  I started scouting the shoulders of the road for a suitable spot.

Just after I'd begun my search, and as I was non, merci-ing offers of food and drink from a couple outside of their home, I caught a glimpse of a hand-made sign that said DORTOIR.  My groggy brain started to tell me "dormitory, huh....but I'm looking for a ditch."

Fortunately, logic kicked in a split second later, and after a careful U-turn I was asking, "Bonjour Monsieur! Est-ce qu'il y a des places dans le dortoir?"

He showed me inside his little barn, about the size of a one-car garage:  four little mattresses with pillows and blankies arranged on the hay -- ooh, one was even on a small cot! -- and all empty.  BAM!  I was sold.  He asked how long I wanted to sleep, and he agreed to wake me after half an hour.

I grabbed my phone & a water bottle, snuggled right into my luxurious mattressed cot, just opposite the big bags of rabbit bedding fresh from the supply store, and got cozy in my blankie.  Most. Wonderful. Feeling. Ever.

The setting was perfect:  dark enough in the barn to be cozy, yet luminous enough to see due to the daylight shining in through the big gaps between the wooden door and the stone walls.  Exterior sounds of randos getting coffee or chatting while riding by were audible enough to be comforting, like having family awake in the next room while napping at home, yet it was plenty quiet enough to not be disturbing.

I fell asleep instantly, and awoke naturally after twenty minutes of sleep:  a PERFECT nap.  I stood and briefly stretched, and I felt great.

Ok, long way to go to Paris, time to get a move on...but I couldn't open the door!  There was an internal bolt to lock it from my side, but that wasn't fastened...and there was no handle to turn; it wasn't that sort of door.

I was surprise to find myself thinking how funny it was to be locked in a barn while my time slowly, steadily ticked away.  The nap must have done some good, as I could appreciate the comic situation rather than freak out. :)  I didn't hear anyone outside of the barn, but I knocked and said "Coucou!" and Monsieur let me out a moment later. :)

I assured him that I had had a wonderful sieste, and thanked him profusely.

With a belly still full from lunch, and decent provisions on the bike, I was ready to roll.  He offered me coffee (non, merci), some water (non, merci), some cakes (non, merci), or some tea...OMG...tea...OUI, du thé s'il vous plaît! Merci!!

However, rather than grabbing a thermos from the table to fill a cup, he called across the street to his wife, by the house, to prepare some tea.

Crap crap crap, I gotta roll, and they're putting the kettle on?!?

No, no, no, Greg...no...let people help you, sit your ass down, and have a wonderful cup of tea from these gracious people.  You'll live, it won't stop you from getting to Paris, and it will probably be quite nice.

Madame came out quite soon with a nice hot cup of tea.  I'm not generally a big Lipton fan, but the tea was absolutely wonderful.  It felt so good.  We chatted a little, and Monsieur gave me a slip of paper with their mailing address, and another with their daughter's e-mail address.  This was the ninth time running that he'd come out to support PBP riders.  How cool is that?  I gave him either an SFR pin or one of my wooden nickels -- can't remember which -- and added some of my loose change to the pile on the table.

I think this is that rider!

While I enjoyed my tea, the couple tried their best to ask an English-speaking Elliptigo rider what country he was from.  "U.K."  They were clearly stumped.  "United Kindom," he tried; no good.  I chimed in with Royaume-Uni and the couple said "Ahhhh! Royaume-Uni" and smiled.  Social awkwardness resolved with four syllables.  Whew! :)



This little episode in the barn is one of many fond memories of my PBP.  I hope they receive my San Francisco postcard soon, and I hope to see these folks again some day, and maybe even sleep in their cozy barn once again. :)