|we're easily distracted|
|the right track........or is it?|
Dismay kills conversation. But suddenly, after about 100km the asphalt suddenly ends and we start lurching about in our seats as the van hits sandy washboard tracks. "Good" Gabor says quietly. His relief is shared. Now we'll get our money's worth. Along the way the driver repeatedly stops to ask directions and certainly goes the wrong way at one point, although it doesn't really matter. It's quite reassuring to know that it's not just us that struggles to navigate the myriad tracks. The 300km ride takes eight hours. It has saved us six days' cycling and possible death from dehydration.........(okay, okay, just trying to make it sound worthwhile).
|Gabor communes with nature|