16^th Day 2018 Marlon-Licharre to Oloron

            A light gray cloud hovered menacingly over the campground.  Departure was delayed by a wonderful conversation with an Irish coupe from Cork, the Twomeys.

She teaches German and French at the secondary level.  I envied her ability to converse with the hosts of the campground.  They were also pleased and treated us to a cup of coffee.  They bought their camper car over on a ferry to the tune of 1000 euros.

            The route today was walk, ride, and glide.  One medium ascent interrupted the sight ups and downs parallel to a river.  The road was a superb biking route until the traffic picked up outside of Oloron.

            The clerk at the Tourist Office located both a campground and a bike shop.  I needed to buy gloves and handle bar tape.  My palms were being rubbed raw by the duct tape holding the old handle bar tape in place.

            The campground was very nice.  I had enough energy to set up camp, replace the handle bar tape, and cycle over for food in a super market.  For the first time, I did not enjoy one of my choices, a sea food salad with noodles.  Both the consistency and taste was off.

            As I settled in for a good night’s rest the noises started.  First came the yapping dogs.  Every passing stranger brought a tornado of barks and yips with barely a hush from their owners.  All dog owners should be banned to the edge of the park.  At 10:30 mind you an elderly couple decided to clean their entire inventory of dishes, silverware, pots, and pans.  The drums, cymbals, and horns in a Philip Sousa march could not have been louder!  Finally, came the cell phone users who shared their conversations with the entire park.  Dante would have to add another chapter to his “Divine Comedy” to include just “rewards” for such inconsiderate people.

            It does bring to mind our own foibles that we take for granted and others find annoying.

            On the ride I was thinking of those two snails transported miles from their homes.  Will they try to return?  Will they have adventures to share worthy of Homer and his Odyssey?  Do they have a homing instinct like pigeons?  How long would it take?  How many new generations of snails would have come on the scene?  This is your great-great-great-great-great grandfather who left years ago.

Happy Trails to you until we meet again!

Much joy!!!
Hardy