I've been back on Aussie soil for just over 2 months now, and the memory that is still clear as day in my head and guaranteed to put a smile on my face is of our bike rides through the Normandy countryside.
With our squeaky breaks, we'd peddle our way from tiny village to tiny village, sometimes not seeing another soul, stopping only to take photos, or of course for food (if you'd read my posts from Normandy, including this one here, this would be of no surprise to you!).
We would wait eagerly for the morning mist to rise or for any early showers to clear, constantly keeping watch out of the window before running out of the cottage and jumping on our trustee steeds. It's amazing how free you feel on a bike - even more so than walking, I think. The cool breeze touching your cheeks, your legs aching from the constant peddling and wet bums from the bike wheels splashing through puddles. We'd pedal until dusk.
Bedtime often came early in Normandy as we'd be eager to wake the next morning to do it all over again.