July 2024

     July. Emotions are shared, and I'm writing from a country that beats to the rhythm of the Tour de France, the Olympic Games, these two huge moments of gatherings around the love of sport, but also discreet bushcraft adventures through the countryside. July is all about family and distance, moving from one Michelin paper map to another, and making up for an unexpected journey with an itinerary snatched from your mobile phone.

  July means new patches and badges for passes, towns and memories that you sew or glue to your handlebar bag. July means that your long trousers are to be forgotten somewhere in a drawer. And the desire to get carried away on walks, mops and friendships, early or late because it's so light out or the moon is here and it’s beautiful. In the cool of the day, loaded down with a few energy bars, a nougat or a fruit pastry, the wind agitates your clothes, it flaps on your hips and you brave the speeds. The sound of cicadas, even when the road bends, is mesmerizing. July is all about cool museums, cinemas where you take refuge when it's hot, paintings with gilded frames, pockets whose contents you check before diving off a pontoon or a rock, walls of yellow, pink and pistachio lime, and the landscapes made grandiose by things that appears so little. It's the noisy holiday-makers you pass, the beautiful encounters you make, the shops that start to close for summer break, here in Europe.

   This month is all about minimalism, even when you're not flying — one piece of cabin luggage is a lot, especially on a bike. Small bags, small pouches, essentials on you and in you. Summer gives way to simple triumphs (finding shade or clean water, a book or a pint). The heart beats with free, light moments, and there's no need to despise a little boredom or a lazy moment in a peaceful spot.