#but i can tell you ‘i am going swimming with a parsnip’

[junewild]

as usual, the second i learn how to speak a new language i am making jokes in it

[floydsmuse]

Meggy, I'm trying really hard with the Calvin thoughts, I really am, but the Miles Miller thoughts/thots really started talkin and it just couldn't be helped (lol).

Benny absolutely loves to help with the chores around the ranch and he's so friggin cute while doing it (lol). Maybe it's a warm spring day and the grass is nice and green, the flowers are in bloom and everything is just bursting to life. Maybe you're pregnant with Jesse and your bump is getting in the way a little bit. You're hanging all the sheets, pillowcases and shirts out on the clothesline to dry and you drop one. You squat down to pick it up but Benny comes waddle-running over and sternly tells you, "No mommy, no! Daddy say no bend over! I gon help you!" (lol).

Miles loves bringing Benny to go and collect the eggs because he knows it'll keep the broody rooster and the hens in line and from pecking his boots. Benny will be tossing the feed to the chickens while Miles is checking to make sure the eggs aren't fertilized before bringing them back to the house.

Miles and Otis both teach Benny how to milk the cows too. You and Miles adopted four females who mated with a bull and it was one of the best decisions you could have made since it cut back on the grocery bills. The other good thing too was that Miles and Otis didn't have to milk them as often since the calves are still little and can nurse in the early hours of the morning (Rhett and Royal also do that with Abigail, one of the dairy cows Cecelia took in) and you guys get all the milk, cheese and yogurt you could want (especially since Miles is a fiend for all three, lol). You know too that it's time for the cows to be milked when Benny comes back carrying a metal bucket and clanking it with your wooden spoon (lol).

The orchards are by far yours and Miles's favorite places on the ranch. The grape orchards always smell so good and there's rows and rows of apple, blueberry, apricot and huckleberry bushes. Miles loves being out in the field but seriously hates cutting the grapevines back if they're really overgrown and has to keep poor Benny from eating half the crop because they're just that good (lol).

On the property, you're especially grateful for the swimming hole. Montana winters are super cold but oof, those mountain summers are HOT. Half the time you and your family will just dive in without a second thought on especially hot days. Benny loves looking for the duck nests and watching the mallard and his mate leading their little duckies down to the water and anytime you guys have stale or moldy bread that needs to go, Benny will gladly take it down to the swimming hole to feed to them.

He also loves to help with the vegetable garden too. Benny loves to yank up the carrots, parsnips, radishes, turnips, beets, ginger, garlic, potatoes and onions and Miles doesn't mind in the least when dirt sprays everywhere. He loves to pick the tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, beans and big fat squash that like to creep through the dirt. In Fall, you guys get big, fat orange pumpkins that soon become jack-o-lanterns, soups, stews and pumpkin pies.

Speaking of which, Benny loves to help in the kitchen too, especially when you make the German chocolate cake that Miles's grandma, Essie, used to make and it's so tasty especially with the farm fresh eggs, milk and cream that you guys have (lol). Beef, pork and chicken are especially easy to get and Miles even trained the pigs how to find mushrooms which is an added plus for the kitchen. You always have fresh bread being baked no matter what time of the year it is and you always laugh when Benny pulls up a chair and sits in front of the oven to watch it rise.

Meggy I promise you I will try and get some Calvin thoughts/thots together soon, I'm tryin and it's a BITCH!!!! (lol).

Mary my darling! don’t worry about it :) i will gladly accept any thots/thoughts that come up! i love our precious boy Miles & i can’t wait to read what you’ve sent in!

~ aww little Benny helping out with the chores :,) i just know he feels like such a big boy & is all giddy to help out mommy in any way he can🥹 Benny running over to you to pick up what you dropped is just so sweet! Miles wouldn’t want you to lift a single finger while you’re carrying baby boy & would do everything he can to make your pregnancy as easy & effortless as possible for you!

~ i could so picture Miles bringing Benny to collect the eggs & milk the cows too! that couldn’t be more perfect :,) idk why but for some reason i could see Miles having a ton of knowledge on all the animals on the farm & he’ll share little facts with Benny & you at any given chance! he’s so fascinated by all creatures & animals that roam the earth. he almost loves them more than he does humans, but with an exception of you & Benny of course ! i could also see animals being super attached to Miles, like even deers or squirrels will come up to him & he’ll happily feed them or give them a little pet. He’s like the wildlife whisperer or something. a real life prince charming🥰

~ ahh not Benny eating up all the grapes🤣 i can’t say i blame him tho. they are super yummy! especially fresh ones straight from the vine! a swimming hole? that sounds intriguing! i need one of those when it gets hot😅 aww Benny pulling out veggies from the vegetable garden is so cute! i like the idea of you & Miles gathering up all the veggies & squash to make some delicious soups/meals! i love Benny being a big help & getting so involved with all these activities around the farm :,)

~ Benny helping in the kitchen too?! Mary! it’s just cuteness overload at this point🥹 i could picture him being all giggly & excited when you ask him to help you bake/cook! when you or Miles offer to help Benny, he playfully shuns you away & is all like “i got it mama, dada. no need any help.” which proceeds to make you & Miles laugh. you let him do his thing, but are always there to guide him or help if he needs it! :)

Mary! these thoughts were so sweet & just what i needed tonight🥰 as always, thank you for sharing them with me! i look forward to see what you send in next💗

[crookedmoonlight123]

The Rain Woman Chapter 10 - When A Rain Drop Shatters

YAY! I finally installed Office 365 so i can now post my chapters here, italics and all! Enjoy!

Chapter 10 - When The Rain Drop Shatters

 A/N: Thankyou to the guest who reviewed every chapter :-D Much appreciated! And everyone else who has followed/favourited so far!  Enjoy!

   Juvia brushed her blue tresses this mornings revelations were a bit straighter in her mind, she hadn’t exactly wrapped her head around the idea but accepted it all the none.  Her father might just be crazy but there was no way she was going to help him, not one bit. A knock on her door signalled it must be time for dinner.  

 “Juvia is just coming!”  She called from the bathroom as the door clicked open.  

 “Our Master requests your presence for dinner.”  The velvety voice spoke, the one hooded figure Juvia never actually got the chance to lay eyes on.  

 “Juvia accepts.”  Juvia held her hands out as the rope and blindfold were put in place, she couldn’t go hungry and maybe she would get the chance to see her mother tonight, after all she couldn’t go hungry either.

 The trip to the house or mansion, judging by the size of the dining room it was probably a mansion; felt shorter this evening but Juvia imagined that was just because her mind was preoccupied.  The smell of food greeted her again as she stepped across the threshold and the blindfold and rope were removed but only once she was in the dining room, the lilac haired lady stood by the doors as Juvias father sat in his normal seat.  Juvia walked over without an invitation and took a seat herself, tucking her dress coat underneath her and adjusting her fur hat.  Before she could speak dinner arrived and was set out on the table, bowls of vegetables; roasted beetroots, parsnips, carrots and broccoli, trays of potatoes - sweet and normal, meats, fish and gravy boats were placed in front of her.  Juvia liked food but if Natsu was here he would be in heaven, it would seem her father had a feast for every meal.

 “Do you have a feast for every meal?” Juvia questioned, how much of it would go to waste?

 “Not every meal.  I don’t know what you like to eat so I ask my chef to prepare a selection.” He sounded almost fatherly.

 “Juvia doesn’t think that’s necessary and can give you a list of everything she doesn’t like to make it easier.” The watermage pursed her lips.

 “That’s very kind of you.”  Jimquin poured them both of a glass of wine next to their glasses of water.

 “Is mother not dining with us tonight? Surely she is hungry to.” Juvias navy eyes searched his for any trace of lies.

 “Not tonight, she wanted to eat alone in her quarters.” He paused to tuck a napkin into the top of his crisp white shirt.  “I think she is still bitter about the means in which she got here.” Juvia watched as he spooned beetroots and parsnips onto his plate before passing them over to her.

 “Juvia imagines you are probably right.”  The watermage believed him, she was annoyed herself.  They ate their meal in silence and Juvias eyes nearly popped out her head at the cake that came out after, a triple layer chocolate sponge, thick chocolate ganache between the sponge layers, covered in chocolate butter cream frosting topped with chocolate malt balls. Digging into the chocolate cake with lavish Juvia began to think about what her father had said this morning about trying to awaken her dark magic, he hadn’t asked yet but Juvia was sure he hadn’t forgotten.

 The watermage ate her cake slowly hoping to put off the inevitable but her plate still seemed to empty too quickly.  Once the plates were taken Jimquin set his brown eyes back on her, they seemed to harden and Juvia knew the question and argument were coming.

 “So Juvia, I am going to ask you again now you have had time to think about what I asked of you this morning, after all I would rather I didn’t have to lock you away before you complied.”  There was no gentleness in his voice now.

 “Juvia has already told you she won’t.” She gripped the glass in her hand tightly.  “Fairy Tail will come looking for her, they expect her back by now.”  The water mage smiled smugly at this fact relaxing her grip on the glass slightly.

 “Well I have something that might change your mind.” He now smiled smugly at her, Juvias heart pounding in her chest.  Jimquin clicked a power button on a remote as a picture appeared on a projector, it was of a cell but not hers.  The watermages eyes widened at the person on the screen, her cheeks flushed scarlet, the blood pounding in her ears. No it couldn’t be? Gray-sama?!  Why, how did they have him?

 “How!  Why do you have Gray-sama?” Juvia roared, the glass in her hand smashing as bits of it embedding itself in her skin causing red spots to appear in the palm of her hand as she pushed herself away from the table with such force she sent the chair she was sat on crashing into the wall behind her, she could feel her magic tingling viciously through her veins.

  Jimquin just smirked at her reaction.  “We found him walking the streets of Rhodonia, he must’ve been looking for you.”

 Gray-sama was looking for Juvia? Normally this sort of information would send her into a romantic fantasy but not now.  Oh Gray-sama, how could you be so stupid to follow Juvia here… why did you follow Juvia here… She clutched at her dress coat her navy eyes swimming with emotions.  “Juvia has a condition.” The words she spoke were cold and Juvia made yet another heart wrenching decision.

 “You let Gray-sama go unharmed, tell him it was mix up.  And release Juvias mother, give her money to rebuild her house and garden.” The watermages eyes never left her fathers as she put forward her proposal.

 Jimquin snarled.  “Your mother belongs here!” He growled slamming his fist down on the table, his cheeks growing red now to.

 “Those are Juvias conditions.  Then she will join you.” Juvias voice was not at all strong like she intended it to be, instead it was small and laced with sadness.

 What seemed like an eternity passed, the room thick with tension before Jimquin came to a decision.  “Fine I accept your terms.  But you should know that your mother will come back to protect you anyway, mothers always do.” He smiled triumphantly, he had won and now his plan would be set in motion.

    Gray awoke groggily, his head was pounding and as he reached around the back of head his to his raven hair he could feel the dried blood matting.  Just great!  I let my guard down and now I’m being held captive by Mavis knows who! Gray punched the hard stone floor in frustration as realisation hit him.  What if I’ve been taken by the same people who are after Juvia? She could be close by.  Gray felt at little at ease but also a little worried, what if she’d been captured for days, why and what would they have done with her?  A painful image planted itself in Grays mind, Juvia shackled up to a wall, eyes shut covered in cuts and bruises.  The icemage shook his head, the idea was ridiculous, she was only looking for her father not some mafia gang.  Standing up Gray decided to look around the cell for a weakness or way out, he tested all the walls but they were old solid brick, he checked the floor to see if there was some kind of tunnel maybe underneath it but there was nothing, he couldn’t even hear a single sound just deafening silence.  Juvia… Gray shut his eyes clenching his fists, he had to find a way out.

   Juvia didn’t sleep well at all that night, she had left the room quickly after her father had agreed to her terms stating that they would begin her ‘training’ first thing in the morning.  The watermage had tossed and turned in her bed her thoughts running wild, she had turned her back on Fairy Tail and Gray-sama again, but it was to keep them safe, it was for their good, she would miss them terribly, her heart ached at the thought of never feeling that happy again, that carefree.

 Memories of her and team Natsu in the tower of heaven flashed into her mind, how Gray-sama had said he wouldn’t mind her joining the guild, how her heart had sung with happiness, when Gray-sama had taught her how to eat caramade franks which she was hopeless at, when he saved her at Tenrou, the unison raid at the Grand Magic Games, the pool table they had been given on a mission, her chats with Lisanna and Gajeel, she’d miss seeing Levy and Gajeel finally getting together, Lucy scolding Natsu, Erza being fierce, Mira always smiling but most importantly her mundane times with Gray-sama, the walks around town, the random easy missions and the way her heart beat out of control when they were close.  Tears rolled down her cheeks, she was either going to wield dark magic which would surely impact her behaviour, alter her emotions some way; or become crazy from the process, either way she was doomed to lead a miserable life once again a life of rain and despair.

 Deciding to stop moping, not knowing the time, Juvia got up going about her morning process.  The watermage started by making her bed straightening it out meticulously it looked almost ironed, plumping her pillows until they were full and fluffy again before walking over to the little bathroom, she didn’t know if she would care about the little things after today so she wanted to spend extra time on everything.  Juvia made her way to the sink and brushed her teeth before slipped the pink nightie off her cream skin onto the little square eggshell blue mat in front of the shower cubicle and climbed into the steaming hot shower.  Sighing in relief Juvia relished the feel of the hot water pounding into her muscles forcing them to relax and unwind warming her to her core she felt almost human, almost like she was back at Fairy Hills.  Tilting her head up Juvia allowed the rays of water to wash over her face feeling like they were washing away her worries with it, the steam from the water was filling the enclosed cubicle it was otherworldly like all Juvia would have to do was walk through the mist to freedom.  Realising she was lapsing into a fantasy, bending down Juvia could just about see the bottle of shampoo and a bottle of conditioner on the edge, quickly applying the shampoo allowing it to lather and sit in her hair away from the shower rays for a minute she inhaled but no scent came to her, she missed the smell of her lavender shampoo it was so soothing, but this shampoo held no such remedy.  Deciding it was time to wash it out Juvia turned the head back to where she was standing washing out the shampoo, her hair feeling a bit dry from the product. Twisting the head away again so it faced the wall the watermage picked up the conditioner and worked it through her hair enjoying the silky feel as it untangled her hair and she washed her body with the shower gel.

 When Juvia finally stepped back out the shower she grabbed the yellow towel off the hook on the door, the soft fabric felt comforting as she wrapped it around her body plus another small one around her head the watermage had picked the softest ones she could find for today.  Juvia towel dried her hair quickly and made her way into the main room and changed into another one of her navy dress coats, this one she hadn’t worn yet, it was super warm as it had a thick fleece lining, the buttons were gold in colour and shaped into butterflies, the belt around the middle was the usual dark brown, the buckle gold to match the buttons, butterfly patterns were stitched around the side and on her shoulders was a thick shawl which again had been sewn into the dress coat for maximum warmth.  Juvia slipped on her thigh high boots she had only brought the browns one with her before wrapping her hair into another towel to dry.

 Juvia busied herself with seeing what had been placed in her drawers and what had been taken, she had all her clothes, a bento which she wished she’d known when she first arrived and some lavender shampoo and conditioner which made the watermage pout, she could’ve had the shower she’d wanted if she’d have checked out the drawers properly.  Once satisfied her hair was dry enough Juvia ran a brush through it before putting on the fur trimmed hat except she added the butterfly clip to it she had worn before the start of Grand Magic Games in Crocus.

 Juvia sat down on a wooden chair next to the chest of drawers crossing her right leg over her left surely it wouldn’t be long now until they called for her?  Chewing the inside of her cheek nervously sure enough the knock came and Juvia stood a little to quickly her sense firing on high alert.

 “Juvi-Juvia is ready.” She stammered as her heart pounded in her chest and anxiety scrambled her brain making her throat feel like it was collapsing in on itself.  The door clicked open and Juvias eyes were transfixed on the cloaked figure who walked through the door, their hood was down and Juvia immediately recognised the light brown of his hair and the eyes she’d seen before the cloak hood had come down, the eyes who had stalked and delivered her messages in Magnolia before she had set off on this journey.

 “The master is very excited to start so let’s not keep him waiting.” He made his way over so quickly surprising the watermage, he moved as fluidly as the wind.  

 Juvia didn’t say a word as the blindfold and rope were fastened, she couldn’t, she felt sad, anxious and hopeless, the emotions were choking back her words and breath.  Without another word they both made there way out the cell, the metal door clanging shut behind them, Juvia expected the stairs but none came, she felt dizzy from the sudden left turn they took before descending stairs the watermage didn’t think they could go any further underground.  Heavy doors shut behind her, the hinges groaning in protest, the smell of damp and mould hung thickly in the air, the blindfold and rope were removed and as Juvias eyes adjusted she saw that she was in a dark room lit with few lamps at the edges, at the back of the room was another door, a robust metal looking door, bright white light seeped from underneath it like the gates to heaven.

 “Juvia, good morning.” Her fathers now familiar voice floated towards her almost graciously.  “I’ve had some breakfast brought here for you so we can get going with the treatment, after all you will need some strength.  He gestured to a small table with a bowl and a variety of cereals on it, the cereal was certainly different to yesterdays over the top breakfast. “It’s simple and light as the process it strenuous.”  He sounding almost caring as Juvia took a seat and made herself a small bowl, she wasn’t really hungry but she to knew she would need as much strength as she could muster.  Her father had said treatment but yesterday he had called it training, but what difference did it make now?  Either way she had made her bed and now must lie in it.

 Finishing the last of cereal, the watermage stood up looking her father in the eye.  “Are you ready Juvia?” He asked nonchalantly.  Already making his way towards the metal door at the back of the room.

 “Yes father, let’s get it over with.” Juvia spoke, her fists balling, her heart pounding with every step, her muscles tensing as her body screamed at her to turn and run, to fight, to find another way, but Juvia was out of time, out of options, if she fought her mother wouldn’t be safe, neither would Gray-sama, as strong as Fairy Tail was, she had been taken down so easily, Juvia had no idea how many strong wizards were under her fathers influence.  If she tried to run or fight she didn’t want to think of the consequences when she was caught.  Finally the door loomed over her, the white light which seemed to heavenly to start with was now painfully bright burning into her eyes.  In the room computers and people dressed in white lab coats typing furiously were stationed to her left and on the right was huge tank full of a purple liquid which bubbled angrily at her.

 “Is the machine ready?” Jimquin was speaking to a male with blonde hair and a clipboard in his hand next to the machine, Juvia looked back behind her at the door, fear striking her heart.  What is Juvia doing?! Her mind screamed but before she could act strong arms on each arm yanked her towards the machine.

 “Your Gray-sama-” He spat the sama.  “Will be released as soon as you are submerged into the tank.” Juvia eyes grew wide, Gray-sama is still being held captive.  A mask over mouth supplying oxygen made her bre breathing become easier.  Next a dome was fitted onto her head, sticking to her scalp in various places, she could have sworn there were tiny needles in it.  A brace like body harness was fitted around her torso, rods going down her legs to the arches of feet, without warning Juvia was winched up and into the purple substance which was thicker than water and had a strange feeling, a lid was closed on top of the machine and Juvia closed her eyes, needles pricked into her skin all around causing her to squirm in pain, she felt the purple liquid against her skin.  Squeezing her eyes tighter she steeled herself for more pain.  Gray-sama…. Live for Juvia… smile for Juvia… Juvia will always love you…  Faint voices were heard outside the tank as shocks went through her body making her convulse, growing stronger with every second, Juvia at first felt pain, raw pain as every cell in her body was being targeted, the needles felt deeper and she was sure the purple substance must be going into her as her blood came out. After the pain came anger, what if her father didn’t keep his promise and hurt Gray-sama anyway?  What if she didn’t care after this process?  The watermages anger intensified, the shocking feeling dulled, a great energy burned inside her.

   Gray grunted as he fired his ice magic at the hinges on the door of his cell, if he could freeze them enough he might be able to shatter them and bust out of here.  Pouring more energy into his attack Gray was caught off guard when the door opened and 3 cloaked figures entered the room closing the door again behind them.

 “Chilly in here.” One of them commented.

 “You’re free to go.” Another one spoke.

 “We got mixed up, you’re not who we’re after.  It was hard to tell in the dark.” The voices sounded light hearted.

 A mix up?  “A mix up eh.”  Gray thought.  It could be possible.  He was led out the cell onto the street of Rhodonia Village, the sky was overcast, a light drizzle coated the village.  Gray tuned back to the hooded figures.  “Wait, do you know this girl?” He pulled out the picture

 “Nope, never seen her.  Your girlfriend?”

 Gray stared at them blushing.  “Uh, no… she’s a friend.  Tell me one more thing.  Do you know a Ray Bashfield?” His dark eyes raked over them.

 “Never heard of him.” Gray felt they answered a little to quickly.

 “You know there’s a storm coming, you should probably get going.” Another one of them urged him to go.  

 Gray grumbled before turning to leave his feet sloshing in the puddles as he walked, so what if a storm was coming he wasn’t going to give up, he would find Juvia even if it was the last thing he did… he missed her, her smile, the way she was so blatant about her feelings for him, it always made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside even if on the outside he didn’t show it.  Gray shifted the tote bag on his shoulder, which he was grateful they returned to him, plushie and all, he wouldn’t admit how fond of the thing he was.  Gray would scour this street once more before moving onto the surrounding outskirts of the town, maybe there were some secluded houses out there?  Either way it was going to take longer than he would’ve liked.  But first, a call to the master to check in.  Popping the crystal out the tote bag, he waited for the screen to clear but instead of the masters face he got… Natsu….

 “Natsu! What the hell! Why do you have the masters lacrima?!” Gray shouted at the dragon slayer, raising his fist.

 “Hey Frosty! Nice to see you to!” Natsu scowled at Grays unwelcome. “It’s so not fair that you rushed off on some secret mission with Juvia!”  Natsu whined as an “They loooove each other” was heard from Happy in the background, Grays cheeks warming.  “I wanna come!” The pink haired wizard pouted now.  

 So Natsu doesn’t know the real reason yet.  “Yeah well, you’re help isn’t needed! Not with the damage you caused on the last mission flame for brains!” Gray defended.

 “NATSU!!!” A voice boomed, the masters.   “What are you doing with my lacrima?!” The master could be seen now making his way over.

 “Aw crap! Gotta go Frosty, see you if you need back up!” Natsu sprung off as the master threw a punch at him with a giant fist causing Gray to sweat drop.

 “Ah Gray.” He was calm now as he spoke to Gray, but his brows still stayed furrowed.  “How is it going?”

 “Uh good, I don’t think she is in this part of town, so I’m going to check another part.” He lied scratching his neck nervously, he had searched most of it.

 “Hm, well keep me posted Gray, I don’t want you running into trouble on your own out there.” The Master stroked his moustache.

 “Yes Master I will.” The lacrima cut off and Gray put it in his tote bag as he set off once again.

  A/N: So what will be the outcome of Juvia’ ‘treatment’ will she be the same with heightened powers? or how dark will she become?  Will Gray get there in time to save her?  Find out soon! Prepare for a heart wrenching few chapters next!

 Read & Review! ---> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12261807/10/The-Rain-Woman

 CrookedMoonlight.

[thevelonaut]

Homefront.

This is absolutely classics country. Fortunately, any semblance of romance gives way, quickly, to pain and frustration. On the way South East, I’d known in my heart of hearts that a tailwind (and occasionally swipey cross-wind) was helping me out. I knew that I’d be turning back into it, and that however gentle it felt as we wandered the streets of Brux, it would be multiplied significantly as I crept back across the ridgey-flats of the North West. The reason that the early-season classics are a hotch-potch of gurn, of hellish faces and awful weather, is much the same as the reason why this was a crap place for a crap war; once the sun goes in (and to some extent when it’s out), the endless flat lands, farm smells, headwinds, sideways drizzle and cobbled tracks become as steadfast an obstacle as the Pyrenean cols, the switchbacks of d’Huez, the ramps of the mighty Lecht. I’d prefer some hardy cols to this. It’s the kind of place suited for those broad-shouldered monsters of the old days, who could puncheur into wind like a force of nature. I can, for a bit. For a little bit.

The fifth day / Brussels → Ieper

Ypres, the French call it. Some five days (and 100 years) after the Battle of Paschendaele, I roll into Ypres through the Menenpoort. I say roll, I think it was the least uphill-feeling part of the day. I’d hung out with HC, her brother and sister-in-law in Brussels for two days. I’d had a cheeky swim to spin my legs, I’d noted a twinge in my groin which I imagine is due to over-cranking a gear for 200k, loaded with luggage, and not ever stretching it en route. I curse it. It needs rest, two days probably won’t cut it, and the Cambium isn’t so comfy after a four or five hour day. Maybe leather is better. I think so. I’ll flog it.

Anyway, I was up and out at 8am; the paths and back streets of Brussels are fairly easy to navigate, and the sun was out to remind me to head in a NWerly direction. I ended up on the ring-road and saw no way to head further north without a) riding on a motorway or b) turning back and trying again from about 3 miles back. With a 90-mile day ahead, I decided to head for Aalst, due west of Brussels, then turn to the north-west after about 30km. It wasn’t the worst idea. The pastoral, calm canalside riding that had seen me down seemed to desert me; instead, I was often on paths alongside the murder roads of NW Belgium, caning it up decentish-tracks and pavements, lamenting the canopied, wind-free joyfest of days two and three. This is another of my problems - I never set out a good return trip. Or, perhaps, I am so addled by the sense of return that I fail to enjoy what is nice about it. Or, the wind is a hell-ferret that never stopped in its attempts to break me. Eventually I stopped at a Spar and sprayed my face with Appletiser, and at 2.30pm when the sun hot-spongs for a spell, I applied suncream and ate a baguette and houmous on a housing estate by a dual carriageway. If it sounds exciting, then it is. I picked up a little of that TCR spirit. Fuck the views.. they all look like this anyway. 

They do. Seriously. I did about 90k of this. There were marginally more leaves on the trees, but most of them were blowing into my face. Still, it is pancake flat, ironing board, smooth as Christ riding. Let’s not mince words. Easy-hard. Or hard-easy.

I get to Oudenaarde, then Wevelgem, and hit the final 20k to Ypres where I know there is a campings. Those last km are sign-posted all to hell with Commonwealth War Graves. Evocative names, famous craters, hills, memorials, regiments; atop the ridgeline, white crosses, monoliths and megaliths, the bright stalagmites that point to where most peoples innards ended up; scattered into the pressing wind, lovely human beings fractioned into micro-particles, cast into a land ever-fertile for the growing of war-dead cabbages and sprouts. They say each breath you take will contain at least an oxygen molecule that Julius Caesar himself would have inhaled. (They don’t say that in the song. They should.) Along the Menen road, you are sucking in the literal and figurative remains of almost a whole generation of human beings.

I don’t like it. I’d seen Ypres was en route to Dunkirk, from where I spring home, and figured that it made sense to pass through. If I did a long-day-short-day two-day ride then I could stay here. I crept in through the gate; the sun is now out glorious, and the town is a magnificent sight. HC navigates me (she’s in London, having taken a bus to the station in Brussels, a train to London, and a bus home in the time it has taken me to yam some houmous in a lay-by) to the campsite; it’s a nice one, if you ignore the Canadian grave-baggers in the mobile homes, the people wearing T-shirts that name regiments and feature photographs of eternally-young great-great-uncles. I put up camp, wash, and stroll to Lidl to bag the last baguette, 3-flavour houmous (oh MY ACTUAL GOD THIS IS AMAZING) and a tin of mackerel. Whilst I demolish this on Ypres square, I note a bunch of people dressed in their going-out clothes walking purposely through town. I’d forgotten that they play The Last Post every night at the Gate, and ambled along covered in beetroot and parsnip dip to pay my respects.

Except I didn’t really know how to. Or why I should? TO what, exactly, am I paying respect? And where are the Germans? Why is the Poort covered with only the Allied dead? And it’s nice that we honour the Indian regiments, when they were forced to dig so many trenches and graves, and be treated like shit for the privilege. Plus, I recently read that an explicit promise to release India from the Commonwealth in return for military support was never honoured. So, really, the whole thing leaves a strange taste in the mouth. Not just the race, the nationalism, the anti-nationalism, the visible lack of outreach; the spectacle itself feels like a fetish. There cannot be a person here who actually knew the dead of Ypres; too much time has gone by. And it is important that we honour this stupidity in order that we may not see its like again. But the crowds, the iPhones, the inane chat when it’s finished. I wasn’t in the mood. Is it the case that a ride across the Maginot Line is the perfect pace to consider the distance and futility of a war that became a mass-grave, formed into a perfect borderline? The Last Post had been, on some unconscious level, playing in my head for hours. It’s the soundtrack of a dark, sad place. So, so sad.

I woke at 6.30am the next day and hotfooted it out of town.

The sixth day / Ieper → Dunkirk → Dover → London Bridge → My bed.

The roads from Ypres to the border were quiet, uneventful, still windy. I got lost two or three times. I’d cycle later this month with my friend Ed, who uses Strava and Garmin and magic; the ease of navigation with devices astounds me. It picks out exactly where you are, and tells you exactly where to go. I almost give in to the temptation to update my by-now 4 year-old Blackberry to something worth a shit, that could do such things. Handlebar mounts for phones don’t do it for me, though. I use every square millimetre of space on a handlebar for, well, my hands. So... not yet. The phone still works. I got lost. Added six miles onto a 40-mile day. Nae bother.

I reached Oost-Capel after a spell of anonymity. I craved a coffee, hoped this French border town would have someplace to sit. It did not.. Belgian towns are decidedly absent of cafes, I know not why. It’s one of those subtle differences; you feel as if you are in France, but it’s the upside-down version. Instead of a nice cafe, there are about ten border guards sleepily waving down cars, mirror-checking the chassis, asking where people are off to. It’s an unsettling sight, but they wave me right by. (The guards at the port would later give me the same bored wave-through. I’m not carrying weapons of mass destruction (400k of fixed touring has savaged my groin and patella, mind you) but it’s both curious and somewhat alarming that a bike can get through to the ferry easily.)

There’s a nice small walled city called Bergues, where I stop for a brew. I dip the remains of last night’s baguette into it, soaking up about half that black glorious. I love soaking bread in coffee, but even though I still get the coffee, I feel like I’m denying myself something. Bergues is right pretty; I trace the little canal network to the North and take a cycle path alongside a canal to Dunkirk. It’s the nicest part of the day. I reach Dunkirk at about 12.30pm, and orbit the old town for an hour or so, then take the dock road up toward the ferry port. I load my bright pink musette with a lunch from Lidl, carry it over a motorway overpass, under a gyratory, behind a Travelodge, past some cranes, around ten roundabouts, over another autoroute, along a busy truck road, around a slag pile and just beneath some fire-spewing chimneys. The ferry port is not a pretty place. Pretty, in that industrial sense, which is to say not so pretty at all. I eat lunch in the weird cafe where no staff work, only machines; it’s a post-Marxist approach to the service industry. I wonder if the docking ferry in front of me is driven by a human being. I think about all those human beings who waited for a boat home in 1940 and all the ones that never got a chance to leave the cruddy fields of Flanders. I am covered in houmous, again, at a moment of silent contemplation. The world is a calm sea, choppy in the middle, and some white chalky downs that leap out of the channel at Dover. Everyone takes photographs of the sharp teeth of England’s mouth, opening up in a bucolic snarl to gobble up its visitors. Pretty soon, I am in torrential rain outside Dover station, throbbing legs, pack of peanuts, Spar lemon-lime and a newspaper to tell me what I missed.

Tour over. Legs recover. I pull out of London Bridge and spin crazy-legs to home. HC makes porridge. The sun goes down.