On this day Wilfred found a pizzeria in the corner of a deserted village square. While some of the riders hung their bibs to dry under the broiling sun and changed into shorts and T-shirts, Pepijn donned a decidedly non-aero Sombrero he found hanging in the bar and Michiel, well he found a strange tandem apron to test drive.
Among the many things to love about France, bread... fresh, golden, crusty and sweet, sits near the top of the list. While we waited for the de rigueur bowls of pasta to arrive the innkeeper brought us an armload of warm baguettes. You can be assured of two things while riding through France, all but the tiniest of French towns will have a church and a bakery. Were it up to me, and I could only have one, I'd choose bread over religion. I believe the French might make the same choice.