When’s a vegetarian not a vegetarian? Answer: When he’s cycling to Lake Como and needs food.Twice today my vegetarian position has been tested. Firstly, we stopped in St Mere Eglis and I dispatched Den to get some food sorted. Somehow he got his jambons mixed up with his fromages and I ended up with a ham and tomato baguette. Den happily ate the ham, but my suspicions were raised that this was some sort of nutritional sabotage on his behalf. After another 25 miles we arrived at the campsite – which is great. Only 3 euros a night via an honesty box, with hot showers and clean toilets. You could not imagine such a place existing in the UK, sadly. After performing our arriving into camp routine – tent up, stretch, shower and lubrication (bike only) we headed down to the one and only bar. At this point my cunning bluff to Den about my level of French came crashing down, as the owner proceeded to try and explain to us the menu. We picked up the word fish and something about chips, but the rest was a mystery. Our starters came, a salmon and veg thing – tasty and filling. I thought that was it, but our plates were cleared and the main course arrived. There were definitely chips but also something that looked like it belonged under a boy horse. A big, boy horse. Now I’ve only cycled 50 miles today, but a man’s got to eat. It was worryingly chewy and I did only eat about a quarter of it. I’m hoping that after 25 years of vegetarianism my body won’t react in some horrific way. Anyway, if it was originally attached to a horse then maybe it will give me the legs to handle the hills over the next few days.
