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I won’t pretend it’s the most gourmet feast I’ve ever prepared but I do feel better for having swallowed almost an entire bag of spinach drowned in butter and cheese, even if Eddy doesn’t prove the most loquacious of dining companions. It’s nice to see him there when I wake up at some ungodly hour though (curtain check: still raining, but perhaps a little less), and at least I don’t have to share the rest of the powdery pancakes, which are, as with so many things, much better slathered in butter and Marmite.

My first proper solo ride is to Le Faou, a ‘village of character’ about 30km south-east of Brest whose chief attraction is La Frégate crêperie, run by Christophe Beuriot, three times crowned the best crêpier in Brittany. As it’s closed from Sunday to Thursday in winter (which apparently lasts until June here), I’ve grabbed the first free table they had, and after reading woeful reports of people being turned away, even out of season (‘Drove 150km for a nice lunch …’), I’m keen to be on time, which means an early start – it’s not far, but I have no idea of the gradients along the way, and of course the weather still doesn’t look too jolly.