20 years ago today – Day 73

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Wednesday, May 15th – a tour of Beaujolais country, 3442 km

Gordon has to go to work early today, to complete the preparations he began last night. He is in the kitchen, stepping over our sleeping bags, by 7am and gone by 7:30, but before he leaves us information about interesting villages to visit in the Beaujolais area, of which Villefranche is the capitol. We will be able to do the tour on unloaded bikes as we are returning here tonight.

We check the weather on Gordon's television. It looks good. We learn that France has a new Premier as of today, a woman who has been compared (inappropriately, Gordon says) to Margaret Thatcher.

We set off at 10:30, after writing postcards and letters for two hours. We head north for a while, then wind our way west and south on small side roads, never straying more than 20 km from Villefranche. There is nothing hurried about our schedule today. It is chilly in the wind but comfortable enough in the valleys with our sweaters. I'd probably be wearing my jacket too, if I had brought it.

On these back roads, there is an endless quantity of barking, hostile dogs, but they are all behind fences thankfully. We don't visits any of the numerous wine-tasting "caves" but we do buy a bottle of wine to share with our picnic lunch in
mid-afternoon. I take several photos too, but the sky is too much haze for any distance shots to turn out well. I focus more on buildings and objects in the foreground. The buildings of this region are made of a golden-coloured stone called "Pierre d'ore" and there is a small hard cheese from here, rather like Parmesan, that shares the same name.

We don't make it home until after 6:30. I shower and pack for tomorrow's ride. We have arranged to meet Gordon at 8 so I don't have time today to write to my business partner who has intimidated my elderly mother into giving him a large chunk of my savings under false pretences. I have to do it very soon, but it will take time to compose and doing it will likely put me in an irritable mood. I am not even sure yet what I'll say.

Gordon takes us to a local restaurant and treats us to a fine meal. We expect to pay but he won't let us. The bill comes to 519F, more than $100, and his generosity makes me uncomfortable. Living in Toronto, a city built on greed, I've forgotten how to give or receive.


PHOTO 1: Mike in the hazy hills of Beaujolais country
PHOTO 2: too many choices