Hey Mr Blue Sky

At 7am it was clear it was still raining, but as the church bells gave us the half hour ring it was beginning to ease. By breakfast a little under an hour later we were able to sit outside, feed the ducks (3 two days ago, 7 today, they learn fast), watch a kingfisher dart by, and see patches of blue sky opening up above. The bike ride take two was on.

The sky was almost pure blue as the bikes were hoisted off the roof of the car, and we passed yesterday's two mile turning point in good spirits. This despite one moment of glorious slapstick comedy less than a mile in. The voie verte beside the canal is well surfaced, and noted on signs as saying it can be used by cyclists and 'those having the right'. This seems to include motor-scooters (one working for the canal, the rest not); cars driven by canal operatives or people living/staying in converted lock houses; and random agricultural vehicles.

As one of the latter approached we pulled in to the right to stop. At this point Mel put her right foot down, unaware of a slight ditch under the plant life she thought was solid. Cue comedy slow-mo topple, rendered more awkward by the steep downward slope beyond the ditch.

The tractor driver looked concerned until he saw her laughing, stuck on her back, head aimed downwards, like a sheep unable to roll back over. If I'd been uncharitable I would have taken a photo before helping her up, but I'm happy to say my first instinct was to make sure she was okay despite the laughter indicating this was the case. A few little cuts from a bramble, but thankfully all was fine to carry on.

The route had been decided as north towards Montbard, on the recommendation of the Kiwi I'd spoken to the day before. For the most part he was right about it being interesting, passing Charolais-cattle-filled fields dotted with herons, and alternately beautifully restored lock houses and near derelict versions. There was a buzzard on the ground, presumably on prey, unperturbed by me stopping 15 or so metres away. And a couple of kingfishers fleeing our advancing presence.

We paused at Courcelles-lès-Montbard (in the extra), with its old red-topped towers, a pretty little village bathing in the sunlight. On from here the route became a little more 'workmanlike', sitting alongside a road, passing through Montbard with a switching of banks and slightly ambiguous signs (which reminded me of cycling in the UK). We pressed on to St Rémy, looking for somewhere to stop and eat the bounty in our bags, but passed by and on until Buffon, not long before which we saw a large group of coypu in a field, who dashed to the nearby river on spotting us.

Refreshed we retraced our pedal-strokes, looking forward to getting to Courcelles again, and thence the prettier bit of the canal. The headwind, I unconvincingly tell Mel, will be cooling against the now blazing sun.

Everyone we come across, whether walker, scooterer, driver of tractors or cars, gave somewhere between a nod and a cheery and grinning bonjour. It was really everything gentle leisure cycling should be. Hell, even on one of the short bits of road we had to use, an SUV driver (an SUV driver) waited behind us as we rode between successive pedestrian islands, and passed with plenty space. It's all a little unnerving.

Anyway, to Courcelles, another break to drink in the views and some water, and then on to numerous wildlife encounters. I'd forgotten about seeing a stoat/weasel run across the path earlier, but now as the heat intensified the lizards were at it. Then we come across two separate coypu swimming about, with one taking to his large burrow to eye us suspiciously. There were a couple more kingfisher sightings (in truth I'd hoped for an expected more), as well as a very, very pale buzzard, that had me incredibly confused until I could consult the books once home.

And back to the car, as some Germans sunbathed inexplicably right beside the road, one of yesterday's kittens once again sheltering under the car, this time avoiding the sun as keenly as the previous day's rain.

We had time to bake ourselves in that sun, overlooking our river, drinking beer, once back, before Mel had a snooze while I wrote and worked out the things I'd like to do over the next few days (which may feature a couple of mapped out bike rides for the mornings). And even after that we took the chance for another Semur wander, finally seeing it properly in some early evening late-summer light (the view above being a minute's walk from our front door).