A change to your terms and conditions

I've had to admit a partial defeat. A couple of days ago, through shoddy choice of route and poor timing, I had to drag myself 50km (half again my usual daily distance) in order to find food and a place to stay. This by itself wasn't a problem but it was all on hard tarmac, which was. By the evening I had earned myself some "shin splints" and I could barely walk. The next day I couldn't walk at all.

Forced to take a rest day I stayed off my feet and gave the shin's some time to recover but they were having none of it; within a kilometer this morning they were in ribbons again and I was worried about doing them some long-lasting mischief.

On the advice of my elite medical consultants (Mam and Aunty) I've decided to reluctantly switch to a bike, allowing me to continue under my own steam but take pressure off the weakling shin.

This wasn't my intention and prior to this i had just powered through the various aches & pains  which i took as par for the course but this was different and very easily exacerbated.

 I hope none of yee feel misled by my change of method but I felt I had little choice if I wanted to continue (which I very much wanted to).

So I consulted my camping guru (more on this remarkable individual at a later point) who also doubles as the bike brain (the Camping Guru had, in fact, suggested way before I start that the whole endeavour should be bike related).

His sound advice was "get the best tour bike you can afford, and use decathlon to kit it out", I kind of followed this advice, deciding that the best I could afford was also the cheapest I could find.

Behold "Palomar II" (aka "roadeater" aka "motorist's bane" aka "decathlon's budget option").

While I'm sure other parts of my anatomy might not appreciate the change (gel saddle or no), I can cope with that better than having my shin's explode all over the shop in a bony, bloody mess. No one wants to see that.

Plus I'm certain that there are no hills in France :)

So for now it's goodbye to my patented 'mac-gators' (macguyvered gaiters),

goodbye sock belt

And hello mysterious leper bike. Anyone know what this bit does? Suggestions welcome.

To celebrate my conversion I hit the nearby "Buffalo grill" chosen for it's pun value, proximity and protein density. They even had saloon style doors which I got to throw wide while holding my saddlebags. Everyone stopped and stared for a moment (though probably not cause, as I hoped, I looked like Clint eastwood) before going back to their meals.

I had the "sheriff meal" and regret nothing. See ya further along the trail, partners.