Day 15. Helgeroa a proper rest day.
What a lovely little place Helgeroa is. The weather was fantastic and if anything too hot. The rest day was not all sitting around doing nothing. In the morning Damae went off for a swim from our tentside beach whilst I sat around being lazy. We took advantage of the facilties which were very good (access via a swipe card that had credits for the showers etc) and washed clothes and hung them out to dry and had long showers.
In the sweltering heat of the midday sun we wandered around first to a couple of gift shops and saw some cute things that we would never use, before heading to the supermarket up the hill. We went via a couple of sidestreets to confirm that this was indeed a lovely little town.
We arrived at the supermarket to discover a quite large modern building, stocked with a good range of products, including a soya cheese slices that we buy sometimes at home. Vegetables as usual were very fresh and there was a lot of variety. The same went for the fruit section.
It is amazing what 180km in two hard days can do to your mental state on your rest day. Perhaps with a sense of relief we enjoyed wandering round the supermarket discovering all sorts of things some that we bought and a lot of other things that we did not.
Maybe it was also that the really breathtaking scenery and the impact of our first big cycling holiday were behind us that made the supermarket so exciting. We made sure to stock up on chocolate and supplies for the following days. We sat outside munching something yummy and drinking something delicious before heading back to the campsite.
The exertions and excitement of the supermarket trip tired us out completely so we took it easy for the rest of the evening. The only exception to this was the fitting of new sets of brake blocks to both bikes. 2000 km of cycling in the Netherlands had made virtually no impact on the brake blocks, whereas 700 or so km of the NSCR had worn them to the metal.
At some point in the evening we heard the sound of an incredibly powerful sounding engine. The archetypal Spitfire sound, and the enormous shape of an offshore power boat entered the harbour. Even at crawling pace it was very loud and a couple of hours later it took more than 10 mins of crawling out of the harbour before the pilot deemed it appropriate to open the throttles, and the sound quickly faded into the balmy summer evening.
That night I also took some photos of the moon and here is one, a little dark but you get the idea.