food is my medicine

Whenever, wherever on this bike tour I think of food. It’s my medicine, it gets me through the day and without it im a lost cause. Even just the hint of rumbling in my tummy makes me get all figity. The other day I fell a good old smashing face to the ground, knees, elbows, ankles and toes. My knee was all chewed up and when some people came to rescue I tried ever so hard through that sort of laughing/crying state to explain ‘ye, yeeh, ha haaa yeehhe im totally fine’. I bandaged and cleaned up myself as best I could but had the shakes – I needed cake!

The next town along called Ribe I came to a delightful cafe that had an excellent and large array of all types of homemade cakes. The lady serving advised me of her favorite. I asked if I could have a portion of cream too and by any chance may I have some tissues (as at that point my knee was dripping). She came to me with a compress and what seemed like an entire months supply of the cafes napkins to block the bleeding. It was much appreciated but it was only when the cake came did my pain go and my pleasure began. I munched and crunched and my shakes disappeared and the knee didn’t seem so bad anymore.