See those flags over there? They signify our victory.

      So, because classes are over and I only have one actual final (the other is a 5 page paper on the Sociologist Bourdieu urg), Lea and I decided to cross another thing off our bucket list: bike ride through Bordeaux wine country.

      Adrianna and Sandy looked at us like we were crazy when we suggested we do this, so it ended up just being the (true) Davis gals, without a map, without a destination, and rented bikes. Recipe for disaster? You'd think.

      We set out following signs to the Médoc, the wine region my parents and I visited, just because we knew there was countryside out there. About an hour in, we realized we were still in the semi-city, but were so excited to be on bikes again, we didn't care. As we continued, we started getting a little cocky with our biking skills (note: we are good at biking in Davis, we have been out of practice for almost 5 months now), and, going up a curb, Lea fell. Now, Lea's fall was in slow-mo for me and to this day, I have no idea how she managed to get scrapped up on her right knee, left calf, right thigh, left foot. Alas, she survived like a trooper. We bandaged her up with some purell and band-aids and continued down the road.

      We found a cute little unnamed town to have lunch in. Our lunch consisted of peanut butter sandwiches, fruit snacks, bad oranges, and 1.09€ wine. Yes, 1.09€. It was gross and just got worse with time to breathe. So it was realllly bad. We only finished an eighth of it, together.

      We were going to take the train home from this little town as Lea's knee was swelling and bruising up, but the next train wasn't for 2 hours, so we effectively went train station hopping until we found a train that was coming in a half hour or so. Which put us 3 towns up, sore, tired, and bruised. The stretch between nameless town #2 and Margaux, what ended up being our final stop, took forever and we kept going through other nameless towns until we saw "the flags of victory" which Lea claimed marked Margaux (she had no idea)...and re-claimed every time she saw any flag on a building. Hence the title.

    Finally, the flags did signify victory and we rolled up to the Margaux station 20 mins before the train. The train was far from the TGV and far from delux. It was red, one car, and crusty. Alas, we did not care and crashed on it for the hour ride back.

     Back in Bordeaux centre, we returned our bikes and sought out the most desired thing of the day: ice cold cokes. So, after 28.5 km of riding, this day may have not been the most planned out, or the most efficient, or the most adventurous, but it was a day that I will remember, at least for how good that coke tasted at the end of it.