Beatrix pottering: "You say tomayto, I say tomahto"

Poor Kevin. Some times the differences between us are more evident than others, and today had some of those times.

The plan for the day was to bike ride around the fields of standing stones. I spent some time researching a cycling route, and found the perfect one from the Carnac Tourist Office. I presented this to him proudly. But he doesn't like planned routes and thought we were going to be adventurous and explore (I always forget this because I like a Plan). And second, perhaps the fact I used to cycle to work has misled him, but I am actually a pretty rubbish cyclist, only liking it if I can touch the ground with my feet when sitting in the saddle, and unable to cycle standing up on the pedals. So when we ended up on a narrow, steep, root-strewn path, and I was more than a little trepidatious (particularly as I have Jemima on my bike as a seat doesn't fit on his snazzy carbon fibre front wheel suspension mountain bike), he was a bit surprised. (He did keep offering to swap bikes but as I can't touch the ground from his bike I was more scared to do that.) But as usual, we found a happy medium - we did have an off-road cycling adventure, but following the signs to various places I remembered from my research. And I did make it down the precarious routes, but insisted on having my feet down the whole way, basically scooting rather than cycling. We found the fields of standing stones, and because it was off season we were allowed to walk among them. Then afterwards we cycled to Carnac's Grande Plage, and Jemima played on the sand, and in the rock pools, so she was happy. And best of all, the sun came out for the first time this trip in time for a beach-side lunch.

That wasn't it for our differences today though. My need for a Plan reared its head again back at Beatrix as we were deciding our next destination. Our original goal was too far after our busy morning, so Kevin - inspired by the beach and a fully functioning motorhome - said he wanted to try some wild camping, ie finding a beautiful (not motorhome specific) spot somewhere for the night. This has been a dream of his since getting the motorhome, but scares me for two reasons: visions of aimless driving for hours with nowhere to be found; and also fear of being Told Off by the Authorities (I am a very law-abiding citizen). Being a good wife I only freaked out a little bit, but agreed to at least try. And would you believe it, ten minutes from our central Carnac car park Aire, he found a beautiful deserted spot overlooking an estuary that is actually a designated area - even with electric hook up. A happy medium again.

The terrifying (but fun) bike ride: