It says on the ice-spray can "avoid contact with broken skin". I read that afterwards, but it's certainly good advice. I would make a strong contender for a hopping competition!
Despite my collection of aches, pains, bruises and cuts, I enjoyed today. Perhaps it was that dreamy lunch in Guerche that did it. A small square in an ancient town repossessed by each new generation over centuries, children played around the fountain and, on the far side, a couple sat on a bench sharing a newspaper. So peaceful and quiet. I could have stayed there until dinner.
I've found a state of mind that has forgotten the excitement that started this trip, and hasn't yet connected to its end. Every day I repack my panniers, pull on my helmet and gloves, then pedal, flicking through gears to keep an easy rhythm. Even after five days, arriving somewhere is just an interruption. I unpack, wash, write the blog, sort out my injuries, eat then sleep. The alarm goes at 06:30 and it all starts again. I'm beginning to feel like Forest Gump when he just keeps running. Once you stop, life catches up again.