Smells like rain

Last few days have been with a pillion which always bring a new dynamic to travel. Trying to acclimatise to the predicted 38 degree temperatures to be expected at my next major stopover but even mid and southern France have been experiencing an unexpected heatwave. Today weighty thunderclouds bubbled in the sky for a few hours before discarding their steam generating load onto the roadside and drying grasses – being caught on the edge of this was delight for the senses with smells and humidity changing by the minute.

Sunflowers in the rain

Eastern Europe (rain like little knives)

Today started auspiciously enough, turning up like a drowned rat at the P&O port in Dover elicited enough sympathy from the check-in team that they bumped me up to the earlier ferry – just as well considering riding conditions over the Channel. Initially I made good time stopping for mandatory coffee when ever a road side café loomed into the horizon. About 100 miles north of my overnight stop the sky darkened over a period of a few minutes and lightening danced on the horizon north of Troyes. Without a gentle lead into rain the heavens opened and the road became an impassable sea of rocks and mud scattered by oncoming traffic and churned to slurry in the maelstrom – like all good hero’s I took refuge under the canopy of the petrol station and made my way onto Bar Le Duc – its takes a while to get into the rhythm of mileage – tomorrow is a new day and the forecast looks promising.