By the light, of the silvery moon

It’s been seven weeks since I last rode Reg at such a crazy time of the day, and what a difference!

The last time I was heading south from the North Cape, it was sunny and ten degrees cooler than at 4.45am this morning, as I headed for the ferry at St Malo.

The sultry nighttime temperature meant that with the bedroom window open the thud, thud, thud of the nearby music festival was faintly audible, but not loud enough for me to insert my biking earplugs.

Last night Yann warned me that the two choices of route for the short trip to the ferry involved the risk of an encounter with either the local constabulary (looking to nab some festival goers) or alternatively, if I took the back roads, a wild boar! Whichever my satnav chose would mean the possibility of meeting a pig of some description, it chose the wild boar route.

But before we got rolling it was a case of loading a few final things onto Reg, not an easy task by mobile phone light, despite the assistance of the full moon, a super moon by all accounts. Consequently I accidentally rang Sarah, but fortunately stopped it before she answered!

As I’ve said before, I’m not a fan of riding in the dark despite the excellent spread of light from Reg’s twin headlights. With the thought of a wild boar possibly engaging in a game of chicken, I rode cautiously and enjoyed the sight of the moon as the relatively cool 20c air wafted through my vented jacket.

The process of ferry check in, security and boarding went seamlessly, I was even first on board and more importantly, got the first bacon butty before the riff-raff boarded, result!

Jersey

A four hour ride around the small island (whilst I killed time until check-in at the hotel), isn’t really enough to have a fair assessment of this very British (with a French twist) holiday destination, but I’ll give it anyway and possibly eat my words tomorrow?

I can see the appeal to the British, three pin sockets, Tetley tea, English beer, drive/ride on the left, beautiful beaches and better weather than is normally the case back home. Exploring the country lanes for coves and wherever the narrow windy roads would take me reminded me that this was very much like Devon and Cornwall. I pondered whether or not I was becoming a touring snob when I started to feel a sense of boredom with it all? Maybe I’ve been spoilt with the places I’ve been over the last two years? Even though I could class the ride as ‘pleasant’, I found it quite uninspiring, and as for the capital St Hellier, it was like Bowness-on-Windermere, but without even a place to park the bike!

I get kicked out of the hotel tomorrow at 10am whereupon I will explore further until my ferry to Guernsey at 8pm, I suspect Jersey will throw me a few hidden gems. 🤗