Nogent-au-Rotrou – Mortagne-au-Perche 22 miles plus 6.

Woke up this morning, the wind has dropped, the washing is dry, and there is the smell of coffee in the air. What more could you want on the 13th day of a cycling holiday? Sunshine perhaps, but at least there is definitely no rain.The first 5 miles out of Nogent – au- Rotrou were hilly, but gave us great views across huge fields that had recently been harvested. We diverted into a small town in search of coffee, but it is Sunday and everything is closed. The next 5 mile stretch of the route follows the River Housin on a disused railway and so the surface is very flat and the direction very straight.After cycling for about an hour and a half we believe we are halfway through today’s journey and it is only just past eleven o’clock. My compatriot is relieved, that the wind has subsided since yesterday, as the going today is so much easier. The track crosses a road that leads up hill to Remalad, a larger town. At the top of the hill we are rewarded with a choice of cafes in a bustling square. We choose the sports cafe as the most appropriate for our mid morning stop.We return down to the track and stop, at a picnic bench, to eat our fruit. We stopped having a proper French picnic before we got to Paris. We could say it is because we want to be healthy, but the reality is there are not that many places to buy the ingrediants for a picnic, so when we find a decent shop, we buy a couple of days worth of fruit. Maybe we will not come back heavier, than when we set off, from this trip!As we come, to what we believe is the end of our ride, we again meet our nemises, a diversion. This not only adds miles to our journey but introduces additional hills to our route. The final insult is that the diversion brings us out on the wrong side of our destination town. So we have to climb up a very long hill into Mortagne-au-Perche.However, it is worthwhile when we finally arrive. Mortagne-au-Perchehe is the historic capital of the county of Le Perche, the area we have been travelling through for the last few days. The hotel is excellent, with a restaurant serving the local delicacy of black pudding. Apparently in March there is a black-pudding festival, where presumably local producers, show of their particular version on this blood pudding. My compatriot is delighted we are here in August and not March. Having walked round the town, and found everything closed, we return to our hotel to have a drink. While sitting on the terrace an English father and son join us. We have an interesting conversation and it turns out the 91 year old father had previouly stayed in the hotel, but, this time they was unable to arrange an overnight stay as both the hotel and restaurant are fully booked.Tomorrow is a 33 mile days so it is an excuse to take full advantage of the highly recommended 5 star restaurant tonight.