Cycle Path Psychopath part 18 – Duck Sleeves

Moustey to Onesse-et-Laharie
Saturday 25 October

I had an earlier start today, but was still the last to leave, and cycled along the road to Pissos. As I turned towards the church I passed the French man from last night and wished him Buen Camino! The church was open, so I parked my bike and went inside for a look. I came outside to photograph the church, and a gentleman stopped while I took the photo. I indicated to him to go ahead, but he replied in English that he had all day, as he lived there. He came over and asked where I was from, then spoke to me in Indonesian! He was well traveled and had picked up bits of several languages. He asked if I needed any help or a coffee… As he had been helped often on his travels, he wanted to reciprocate. I said I was fine, but he invited me to see his house that he said was actually older than the church, built in 1758, and was next door. He said the best part was the roof, as it had all the original beams, so we went to the attic for a look. It was fascinating. He then gave me a tour of the many rooms, and showed me a tree in the garden that was older than the house! It was a delightful detour, but I had to be on my way.

The ride to Labouheyre was mostly through pine plantations with large logs of cut pines piled on the sides of the road. The smell of fresh pine permeated the air. At Labouheyre I stopped for a three course menu that included a carafe of wine. For my entree I chose witlof and walnut salad with a Roquefort dressing, flowed by a duck dish. I was unsure exactly what the duck dish was, but Google translate came up with ‘duck sleeves’ – I was still unsure, but though perhaps wings. When the dish arrived, it wasn’t wings, but the upper part of the wings – the sleeves! The dessert I choose contained icecream… that much I knew, but Google’s version of the dish was ’denoted master of cutting icy glacier’ – a fancy way of saying two scoops of vanilla ice cream. It was rather delectable homemade ice cream with specks of vanilla seeds, obviously made by a denoted master!

The afternoons ride towards Onesse-et-Laharie, where I had booked a campsite, was perhaps the most boring of the trip so far – straight, flat roads though a bleak landscape of empty fields, dotted with a few straggling pines, alongside a busy highway. At least I wasn’t on the highway and didn’t have trucks to contend with, but had my own private road – boring, but stress free.

I arrived at the small camping ground, put up my tent, and went to buy some bread for dinner, as had had a large lunch. I wandered the village, but couldn’t find the boulangerie, but could smell bread… I soon saw someone walking out the door of what looked to be a house, with a baguette. I went inside, and the wonderful smell was overwhelming. I bought a lovely crisp warm fresh loaf, and returned to the campsite, opened the cheese, pored a glass of vin rouge, and settled in for the evening.

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