This is another one of those days whose script you couldn’t imagine. We are packing up to move to our next location. From Sennevieres to Mont-Saint-Eloi. We thank farmer Alex for the nice stay. Meanwhile, the young dog Wodka, who happily welcomes us to her garden every morning, escapes out the gate through our home. We give Alex a tree for his five children each. He plants trees on his property every year. He farms organically. We drive a good half hour to Saint-Jean au Bois, where the tree bike is at the Abbey. Willem and Simonne are already there and Maria, my cousin who lives nearby, has been dropped off by her husband Tim and is biking with us for a few hours. The Abbey is austere and beautiful, inside and out. The Gregorian chant, which can be heard quietly in the background, suits this kind of space so well. It really is a form of meditation. I do love it. Before we cycle away, the first trees have already been given away. And before we start our stage, we visit the seven hundred and fifty-year-old oak tree ten minutes away. What a beautiful tree. We take pictures with the tree bike because it has literally struggled through the forest to be there. A tree like this makes you put time into perspective, how many people lived in Europe back then? This tree was there when the last Vikings were still walking around here in thirteen hundred. Unbelievable. We cycle through the wooded area that Maria knows well, we come across beautiful houses, the influence of Paris is palpable. Many second-homes here between Rethondes and Choisy-au-Bac, west of Compiegne. Maria says goodbye again and is taken to her home by Sanne. She has to work this afternoon. We have a cup of coffee on the way in Le Plessis-Brion and cycle on. I give a tree to a man along the road who turns out to be the gardener of a huge sculpture garden right behind him. He lets us in and tells us that this Thomas Byart sculpture garden can only be visited by appointment. I give him two more little trees and ask him to plant them together. He passes the leaflet to the owner. A little later, we stop at the Mairie of Machemont, where a group of people is standing outside. Mayor Dominique Pastot is unfortunately in consultation. We give a small tree and leaflets that they will pass on. Fine. We drive back into the wooded area. The road becomes a little less, that is, more semi-paved. And it seems to have rained because the top layer is quite slippery. It goes reasonably well until we get really stuck a few hundred meters further on. The tree is quite crooked and only by turning the whole bike around its axis do Willem and Simonne succeed in getting the bike out of its deep gully. Fortunately, because the cars with Richard and Sanne were already making a detour. The stretch after that was a bit worse, at least for the tree. Rocks, gullies, branches, shaking, creaking and squeaking. Like cycling through a stream course. It wasn’t easy but it worked, don’t ask how. You wouldn’t wish something like that on any tree and certainly not our Stone Oak. Just as we leave the forest both our cars arrive. Very good timing, though. With an overdose of andrealin in our bodies it is time for a late lunch. Just relax. Have something to eat. Another three kilometers to Thiescourt, the end of the day according to our schedule. Here at the church we say goodbye to Willem and Simonne who are driven back to their car by Richard. What a service. In the time until Richard returns we might as well continue cycling for a bit. Sanne follows me with the e-camper. And so I cycle with the tree bike in the late afternoon sun from village to village. Hardly anyone on the road, hardly anyone in the villages. When I arrive in Avricourt, Sanne is talking to a lady, Rachel, and her young daughter. Of course she gets a little tree. She invites us over for coffee. Her husband, Alas, is also there. Just a short break. Again very nice people. With vegetables and fruit from their own garden we cycle on. These are such wonderful and special moments in people’s homes. We take another photo at the Avricourt town hall, of which Roger Parzybut is the mayor, Alas told us. We bike between windmills and finally stop in Rethonvillers where we park the tree bike at the town hall. From there we ride to Mont-Saint-Eloi. An hour’s drive and there we stay again for three nights. A nice place where we can cook. It is nine o’clock when we sit down to dinner satisfied but tired. What a beautiful day.