Le Plat Pays Qui Est Le Mien

I'm now at Cheddar. Fancy calling a town after cheese - it's just daft. You wouldn't call Burnley 'Parmesan', would you? No, and you wouldn't call Lancaster... ... ah ... oh I do feel silly.
So does that mean there's a town called Dairylea Triangle as well?
And does it mean that the guy who told me Cheddar Gorge was a cheese eating competition was pulling my leg? Ah.
Today's journey from Minehead took me out of the hilly West Country and over flatlands from Bridgewater to Cheddar. I'm sorry to leave the sea behind - I won't see it again until I reach north of Inverness. I already miss the hills and the small-is-beautiful of Devon and Cornwall. The terrain around Bridgewater is quiet but very flat and desolate, as if first tamed and then forsaken. Riding through its expanse reminded me of the Belgian Jacques Brel's song called Le Plat Pays Qui Est Le Mien. (Unfortunately if you don't know the song you won't know what I mean and that will just seem like a showy French reference, which of course it is.) A few pill boxes still sit squat in the fields, no longer watching for the invasion across the marshes. They seem ludicrous now - who would sail up the Bristol Channel now and fight a war here, and for what? War is such hard work - it may be this realisation that turns us to peace in the end.
Most of the day's charm was concentrated into an hour for lunch with my friend Joanna's parents at their house right on my route at Nether Stowey. They offered me the use of a shower, which at first I insisted was quite unnecessary (showering is such hard work - it may be this realisation that...). However, when clean people you're with offer you a shower, it's wise to accept, and after looking in the mirror, I relented and got cleaned up. Instead of my usual lunch of a handful of nuts and raisins, a banana, juice, a dried fig, a piece of halva, some biscuits, a cereal bar, shortbread, some jelly sweets and a couple of pickled eggs, I was treated to smoked salmon, avocados, salad, home-made bread and cheese, and conversation. I'd not net Jo's parents before and I felt very well looked after. I was left marvelling at the generosity of human beings. We give ourselves a bad press but we can be so generous with each other and it's often because, at bottom, we so like each other, even those we hardly know. That's a strong statement that many people would call naive but perhaps it bears some reflection - I don't say it's the whole truth about us. It's the dog-eat-dog mentality that is truly naive - and futile, less interesting and 'such hard work...'.
Did I mention 'bottom' then? I think I did. Mine started to feel a little sore today. I'll report back on the situation tomorrow, in more detail.
David
PS Minehead eco youth hostel desperately needs an assistant for the rest of the summer - beautiful location, crap pay but enough to get by on. Need to cook and clean toilets and be friendly etc. Interested? Let me or the hostel know.