You Never Forget How to Ride a Bike...No Matter How Hard it is to Get to the ROAD

One week after we arrived in Uzes (to the day), Daddy rode his bike. It took him a while to get out of the apartment, but as you can see, we were his support team all the way.

Here's what he says:

"The world outside the walls of Uzes, is surrounded by vineyards, and tiny villages.

First stop: St Quentin la Poterie, a small quiet village with about 30 ceramic studios.

Next stop: St. Siffret, a smaller, quieter village

Next stop: St. Maximin, the smallest, quietest village.

There were the occasional aggressive drivers, but mostly there were 85 year olds with dented afraid to pass me."

He wants to take us all back there, but definitely not on a Sunday, when everything is desolate and quiet. Even the cows on the first floor of the houses were quiet.

While he was riding we went on a 5K walk along with everyone else in the town. The women wear clothes as if they were going to a ball. Men wear ordinary hiking clothes. Some people just walk and smoke.

Frances says, "I saw puppies. I saw them everywhere. Someone even let me hold one and take a picture with it."

We finished the day at le Terroir, sat outside and I ordered a decaf coffee with piles of freshly whipped cream. Frances can tell you about her drink: "I got chocolat chaud, but it was disassembled: it came as a cup of warm milk, a stick that had chocolate and caramel on it. My mom said, 'What is this?' and took a bite of it like a popsicle. My dad figured out what to do with it...and so I put it in my steamed milk and stirred it around and there was an extra piece of chocolate on the side that was chocolate with pop rocks on the side. My mom wouldn't let me eat it. She said it was TOO MUCH SUGAR."

Now it's time to eat my baked garlic on toasted baguette with before my salmon, fresh gnocci and brussel sprouts.

Eleanore