A Ride Revisited

We went to the Bedoin market today, and bought fruit and vegetables and bread and all of that sort of thing, and looked at everything else and then had coffee and croissants (my first since Glenn left) and arrived home just in time for lunch. The weather has turned warm again so we ate outside. We had a delicious tomato salad and some pate aux poivres verts and some dried pork sausage (also with peppercorns) plus two cheeses -- the ever-popular beaufort aka the mountain man's cheese and Banon. The latter is a goat milk cheese, quite runny, wrapped in chestnut leaves and tied with raffia. It is an AOC product and comes from a town of the same name on the "slope of Mont Ventoux". We scoured all available maps and finally located it on the one that had a scale of 4cm to 1Km. Unless it is merely a goatshed by the side of the road (distinctly possible) Glenn and I have passed it (he twice) on our ascent of the Col des Abeilles between Sault and Bedoin. I for one have a lot of time to read on those ascents and I do not ever recall seeing the name on any sign. It was delicious, even if elusive, or perhaps all the more so for being elusive.

Lunch made us a little drowsy. Certainly too drowsy to head right off on a bike ride. Plus the high temperatures have returned and what kind of lunatic rides in the mid-day heat? Consequently, some napping and reading ensued. Just before 4pm, Kate thought she'd like to go for a bit of a ride. Since I was but two pages from the end of a chapter in my book (House of Wits, which reads a bit like a 19th Century serialized novel, all cliffhangers and foreshadowing), I volunteered to go as well. Our route was one I had done before (the "most beautiful bike ride") but in reverse. What a revelation! The scenery is equally (or almost equally) lovely, but the terrain is hugely improved as there is one brutal but short climb and then one quite manageable one later and everything else (75% at least) is all glorious downhill. My cornering is improving and I hardly had to use my brakes at all. We stopped at the Bar du Pont in Mollans sur Ouveze on the way home for a pastis and they were very busy preparing for some kind of community event or dinner (or it COULD have been a private party) with tables all lined up and marked "reserved". I of course fantasized that it was some kind of festival to celebrate the coco blancs harvest, but who really knows what was going on -- well, actually the man who showed up with a bottle of prosecco probably does. Much as we might have liked to, we could not wait around to find out because it was getting a bit late and we still had to make our way across the fields before sunset (which I thought was more imminent than it actually was due to my tinted riding glasses).

Glenn's little feline friend has suddenly returned -- although she is still quite friendly, she is definitely camera-shy and seemed to be looking all over the apartment for something -- perhaps the dwindling traces of eau de Glenn have her nostalgic. Or else she wants to meet Pierre le Souris (glimpsed by Kate just yesterday).

Now we are at the Blueberry where we have just had dinner, quite a lot of dinner in fact, while two woman in short shorts appear poised to learn some soccer skills on the sports channel (although I had been hoping to see some US Open coverage).