So. What I’d said about day three and dodging a bad day, all went out the window as day four bit us firmly on already our sore asses.
We’d arrived sodden and eventually dried out in a cabin, eaten another bowl of pasta and slept like the dead before waking again at 6 to head out at 7.30. The start of the day commenced with a bastard of a climb but a couple of hours of good riding before proper muscle fatigue kicked in. We also learned that for the the next 50km there no café’s, patisseries, shops or petrol stations to be seen. God knows what people do around here, except sleep and hunt and eat elk and boar as quite clearly they certainly don’t go out.