We got caught in the rain again in France and decided to move east. We wrung ourselves out, got on a train — not the train we intended because of a combination of difficulties finding routes that accept bikes the entire way and the overloaded railway system during peak summer tourism. We made it to Geneva. We biked into the city like a couple of kids, giddy to be out of France, ready for something new. It was a glorious three hours. Then the rain came. It didn’t stop for three more days.
Above that’s us at the campground in Switzerland… $57 a night to sleep in our own tent on the ground, while being rained on in the cold, with the worst internet that was only available if I sat outside in the rain or pushed against the wall in the lounge, and all the major electrical outlets were outside… in the freaking rain.
It was expensive, crappy and not where we wanted to be. So frustrating to me. I should know better than to get frustrated. It’s life’s way of telling you, “just wait!” because the second I started to complain about the rain, my child got sick. What do you do when your child wakes up at three in the morning and starts puking inside your tent?
1. Yell at your husband to help you, while he looks at you and your daughter in horror.
2. Open the tent door and hold your crying baby out in the rain as she pukes on the grass.
3. Look at the damage in the tent.
4. Sob-cry for a second.
5. Scoop up handfuls of vomit and chuck them out the door, make a lame attempt at clean up with wet wipes, then lay down with your disgusting puke covered child — because these are the only warm clothes the two of you have and it’s 55 degrees out — and cradle her head, smooth down her hair and sing her back to sleep.
Anyway, I was feeling bad about moving up on the Euro Velo 6 to a warmer, sunnier portion of the route, then my friend Sarah emailed me to inform me of flooding on the route in Germany. We never had a chance.
We bike into Croatia tomorrow, we hope, where no doubt it will start to rain.