Two days in Bourges have delivered a winter’s feast of gothic splendor. Palaces of Bourbon kings, museums of medieval and modern art as well as streets on former Roman ramparts, now lined with pan de bois houses from centuries later. My feet and ankles ache from walking miles on granite cobbles.
In less than an hour, I’ll don my shoes and saddle my bags to head to the Europcar office to pick up my little steed which I’ll ride to my next destination in the Auvergne countryside, where no trains approach.
Still no idea what my facelift story could be?