There is a decent proper boucherie in Damvix – there’s really very little but a basic co-op in Arçais so we decided to take a longer route along the side of the Sèvre Niortaise river into Damvix for some culinary supplies.
Going through the campsite gates I noticed my front tyre was again soft; not flat but noticeably soft. “Bother”, said Pooh, frustratedly. Once again I spun around and returned to Frodo.
The tyre was not completely flat but down to about 15psi. Normal running pressure is about 50psi. Using the compressor, I blew it back up, watched to see if air was leaking at an alarming rate (it wasn’t) and set off again, heart in mouth praying that I wouldn’t have to walk back pushing a disabled bike. I did have the compressor with me in case that helped me but if the patch let go, it probably wouldn’t.
My tyre seemed to hold up all the way to Damvix, a journey of about 10kms so, if I still had a leak, hopefully it’s a slow one.
We raided the boucherie, which suddenly got quite busy, for what looked like some rib-eye steak as well as a selection of sausages that might be suitable for a BBQ chez notre amie. Opposite the bar which looked inviting for a drink, was a van selling oysters. A dozen #4s were a mere €4.50. Well, it had to be done. Once again a dozen turned out to be 13. I attempted to explain “a baker’s dozen” to the bemused French oyster lady. Tricky subject: “douzaine de boulangere”?
After our refreshing drink enabling us to return with a still inflated front tyre, our oysters would do us nicely for lunch with Frodo’s trusty oyster shucker. I must say that this batch of smaller #4s were considerably easier, for me anyway, to shuck than the larger #2s we bought at Piriac-sur-mer. My hands and wrists were grateful. These were delicious, considerably less salty than those from Piriac, too.
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