It’s Monday and the scent of freshly cut grass fills the air as tractor’s are mowing paddocks, brush cutters used on smaller areas.

One of those picture perfect days. Riding through the Drau Valley, passing through farmland and through forest tracks. Small villages that didn’t seem to have any activity; the odd laughter from a child. One village rolling into another with paddocks separating them. Corn fields and rye seem to be major crops at this time, the odd cattle and sheep.

Mountains either side, the Drau River and us along with other cyclists; road bikes, electric bikes they were all in the mix today. The villages were the usual neat as a pin with emaculate gardens. The views of the mountains and green pastures like a postcard.

‘Next village we will have a coffee’ … I’m not sure how many villages we passed until we found a place for a coffee.

Further on lunch time … same deal … heaps of tiny villages and no sign of activity … at the 63km a village with a pub, other cyclists had the same idea as they all filed in on after another getting drinks and food.

Only 16km to go … a long day today and only a one night stand. Something was lost in translation with the co-pilot.