After purchasing petrol and sandwiches at an out-of-town supermarket, we headed into the mountains for a photo opportunity, which was also an opportunity to scare myself silly in a gravelly parking area:
We ate our sandwiches in a layby just outside Le Puy-en-Velay, the sunshine and the stunning view out over the old town cancelling out the traffic rushing by.
The mountains and lakes of the Cévennes beckoned - classic biker roads with the kind of swooping bends that remind you what the two-wheeled deal is all about. We pulled into a layby to find it full of British bikers, going in the opposite direction on their way home.
"You'll like the next bit!" they promised.
"So will you!" we replied.
Our next bit proved to be a stretch of little twisty curves like macaroni. I could see clear through them and adored jinking the scooter from side to side.
Back on the level, a sat nav blip necessitated turning round. I managed a U-turn in the road, astoundingly, while Howard pulled in to a layby then dropped his bike emerging from it. Within about twenty seconds, two French motorcyclists had appeared on the scene to pick it up for us.
After this adventure, we thought it wise to stop for ice cream at the first opportunity.
A little later than planned, then, we rolled into Arles of
