Laissez les Souvenirs Viennent

(Let The Memories Come)
(And,  gee!  I hope Google translates English to French correctly!)

Rich and Valerie riding in deepest, darkest
northwest France in 2010.

It was back in 2010 that we crated up our tandem and went to France for a couple of weeks of some laid-back bicycling.  We stayed with some British friends of ours who are, in their own right, very well travelled folks.  In comparison, we ain’t seen nuthin’ yet!

I won’t bore you with the details of the trip – but if your curiosity gets the best of you, follow this blog back to May of 2010 and you can read some of the “France Updates” and see a few photos here.  (I kept the blog up mainly so my mother could follow along with our exploits.)

What I’m remembering about this trip was the anticipation leading up to it, and then my own nervousness of being in a country where English was not the predominant language.  I like to talk with people, almost to the point of being an unwelcomed conversational pest.  For me, not being able to understand or speak a lick of French was like a guard dog wearing a muzzle when their were prowlers about; I wanted to “take care of business” but couldn’t!

I keep thinking about our travels then, and what we’re hoping to do after our retirement.  The big difference is that we’ll be doing our touring within the continental United States and, barring a trip through Cajun country, there shouldn’t be any language barriers we can’t overcome. 

I’ve also made a personal discovery:  I’m anxious to see my own country, rather than yearn to tour abroad.  That’s not to say that if an opportunity presents itself to go overseas we won’t take it – but there’s so much to see right here in America that we could spend the rest of our lives pedaling around and not come close to seeing it all.

If you look at the photo attached to this article, you’ll see two people riding in rural France.  There’s the butterball on the front of the bike, and the good-looking woman on the back.  She still looks the same, however the butterball has shed a few pounds and isn’t putting the bike under quite as much stress as he used to.  This is from eating healthier and smaller portions, along with really getting out for a lot of cycling last year.  But the memories are flooding back today, and my mouth is watering.

Lord, lead me not into temptation, but deliver
me from delicious French pastries!

When in France, one of our biggest treats on any ride was to seek out the local boulangerie and indulge in some sweet pastries.  And of all the tasty temptations we tried, the ones we’d kill for were the strawberry tarts.  We have tried to find something similar here in America, yet whenever we sample a tart that looks like the ones we consumed in France it just doesn’t compare.  So… let the memories come!  As long as there’s an ocean separating me from those French bakeries I might stand a chance of keeping the weight off!