Bored of Borders

A wet day for Karlis it was. Change clothes two times he had to. It seams, that we are following some kind of historical route of combat places because we have never seen so many monuments and beds of honor in such a small region. Karlis got tired of the asphalt conditions on small country roads, so today we tried our luck on medium highways. So far so good, looks like the French are more tolerant to roller-skaters than the Germans. At one point the supporting car lost Karlis in a city called Chalons-sur-Marne and Karlis had to ask for directions form a local cycler. It’s hard to communicate with the locals, because even young people speak very feeble English or don’t speak English at all and our French ends at Omelet du Fromage. Somehow Karlis was able to explain which direction he has to go – he had to try to pronounce the name of the next town three times till the cycler understood him and repeated the name correctly, which sounded nothing like the things that Karlis had tried. After this first victory Karlis tried to let the guy know that he doesn’t want to go on a highway, so he said something like “Road le petit” and it worked. After some time the BOB crew got reunited again. Somehow we found ourselves in the dark again and Karlis got a bit scared of the traffic, so we ended at 96km.

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