Randomnerd
Bimbleur
- Location
- North Yorkshire
Dodged out of the rain into a Yorkshire North Coast seaside cafe the other day, part way through our second eighty mile slog biting off chunks of The Whole British Coastline, Including Tidal Estuaries, For Completeness (not a snappy title for the shirts, you might say).
On autopilot, peeling off the wet layers, we ordered hot chocolates and cheese toasties as our host passed by, keen to get back out into Weather.
Only once I was settled into the place and had started to focus like a human and not a cyclist (separate thread, surely?) did I begin to take in my surroundings with more care.
Outside, beyond the nets, a steady stream of maroon electric mobility scooters trundled on; Heron Frozen foods was turning a brisk trade; the chip shop had opened, fryer smoking (man and machine).
Back inside, your usual cafe crew mid-morning: Daily Mailers; seventy-something shoppers; allotment-holders; penny-wise families wondering if half-term would ever end....
And then I spot the blackboard, right above The Ride Leader's head.
Chalked under "Specialités" what had we missed now that we were ramming down the last cheddary crust? Only "fishcake du jour"
The rest of the day was hard riding over wold and dale, and into the dark to get our train home until the next chunk. But I laughed and laughed.
I'm still laughing at the Franglais, and wondering at the pomposity, and mulling over the thinking.
Quelqu'un d'autre got any menus extraordinary?
On autopilot, peeling off the wet layers, we ordered hot chocolates and cheese toasties as our host passed by, keen to get back out into Weather.
Only once I was settled into the place and had started to focus like a human and not a cyclist (separate thread, surely?) did I begin to take in my surroundings with more care.
Outside, beyond the nets, a steady stream of maroon electric mobility scooters trundled on; Heron Frozen foods was turning a brisk trade; the chip shop had opened, fryer smoking (man and machine).
Back inside, your usual cafe crew mid-morning: Daily Mailers; seventy-something shoppers; allotment-holders; penny-wise families wondering if half-term would ever end....
And then I spot the blackboard, right above The Ride Leader's head.
Chalked under "Specialités" what had we missed now that we were ramming down the last cheddary crust? Only "fishcake du jour"
The rest of the day was hard riding over wold and dale, and into the dark to get our train home until the next chunk. But I laughed and laughed.
I'm still laughing at the Franglais, and wondering at the pomposity, and mulling over the thinking.
Quelqu'un d'autre got any menus extraordinary?
