The only way to send my broken bike back to England was to pack it up in a box. To get hold of a box I had to visit a French bicycle shop and ask them if, in French, they would give one to me. All went well as I had practiced my sentences in advance, and the manager actually understood some of what I was saying - the rest I communicated with sign language and a bit of pointing. We could have just said 'au revoir' and left, but then we saw a beautiful slate grey and orange machine.
Before I knew it I was on a test drive up and down the street, and then we were on our way home. Me with my new bike and Darren with the cardboard box.
I was very keen to get back in the saddle and today was my first outing. It took a while to get my confidence back, but after a few kilometres I was zipping along.
The Ile de Re is full of excellent cycle paths, no hills and beautiful sea views. We stopped at St Martin de Re to admire the harbour, lighthouse and chat to a lovely English couple with a tandem. They told us a couple of stories about their cycling accidents and I am quite glad to be on my own bike, rather than attached to Darren.
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