Cycle The Parks, Stories

Dijon, France

After a long rainy day getting to Dijon, I pulled out at a corner on the outskirts to insult a map. A driver pulled over and asked me a question. My French is horrible, as was his English. We switched to German. I needed a hotel, and preferred a more central location. He said follow me, I responded with “slowly”. A few blocks away, in an elementary school parking lot, was the start of a bike path set away and hidden from the main road. I was told to follow it. The path took me into town and the hotel I was wanting. The gentleman helping me was president of the Burgundy cycling club. Thanks!