Day 189: Resting My Empathetic Saddle Sores

It's a rest day on the Tour de France on this day of my blog (as opposed to the day this will be posted, as I am, in tour terms, currently being dropped off the back of the blogging peloton and sitting firmly in the arriere de la course). Time to rest those two little bones that make constant contact with those hard and skinny bike seats and those six or seven hundred odd muscles that must be in serious lactic acid shock. So here's a bit of a run down on what has been happening. Cadel looks like he is not going to be a contender after all. After the real tonight's stage he is looking at possibly slipping one spot down to thirteenth. I am never an overly patriotic spectator, but it has been nice for the last few years to have a person to hold out hope for, and a little sad this year to believe, deep down, that that hope has no hope of a podium finish overall. But there is still stunning countryside. None so much as the individual time trial which finished practically on the causeway over to Mont St Michelle. One piece of scandal, if you haven't heard it already, is that due to the previous day's tussle to the sprint finish that saw Mark Cavendish appear to elbow Tom Veelers to a fall just short of the finish, a spectator, in a vigilante style retribution, threw urine in Cavendish's face during the time trial. I thought Cavendish's push seemed NQR, but that is not a good response. Tomorrow we start heading into mountains again. And the last week is looking like gruelling mountain stage after mountain stage. It'll be great viewing. Can't believe we're two thirds through already!

Irene               List_Addict
Eating alone. At a restaurant? Sad loser? Normal? Brave? What do you think? Do you ever do it? I was having dinner in the pub in Llanymynech, the town that sits half in Wales and half in England, on my selfsome due to the fact that I was travelling on my own, and a lady came up to me and said 'You are so brave to come and have dinner by yourself. I could never do that.' 'I haven't got a choice', I said, 'it's by myself or no dinner.' But this evening, stir-crazy from five days of illness, but unmotivated to cook, and last minute and with the boy on night shift, I decided to go out to a local restaurant for dinner. I wanted real food, not take away. I've never done that in my own 'hood, and I have to say it felt a little odd. But I think the main reason is because we (or is it just me) expect people to think we are odd if we have dinner on our own. We expect them to think we are losers who have no friends. I decided to try and think 'stuff it! I am a loser with no friends'. And it turned out to be quite a nice thing to do. The glass of wine after five days of hardly eating was probably a big factor in that (felt very light headed afterwards). I read my book, sitting in a booth built for about eight people. People-watched too. It was sort of liberating. I think I will try it again one day. Maybe one of the best things you can learn in this life is how to be comfortable by yourself.

The Outfit Shirt: Op-shopped and altered (slightly) by me Cardigan: Op-shopped, Topshop Jeans: Primark Necklace: CCJJSS Shoes: Irregular Choice

Photographer de Jour: Moi

Who wore it better?

Making friends today with:

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