Having done about 400 of the 550 miles that day, I figured I was due a break of longer than it took to refuel the bike. So, I rode about 300 metres down past the pumps and parked in shady spot before launching back onto the Dutch motorway.
Short moments of still, quiet, reflection are precious on a long journey. As traffic thunders past on the other side of the trees, I quench my thirst and get some sugar intake.
As I begin the ritual of putting on my helmet, shades and gloves before firing the trusty Dyna into life, I notice a small scrap of paper on the tarmac below the bike.
On closer inspection, it’s a paper dart with the words, ..’please pray for . . ‘ visible on the upside of one of the wings. I recognised it as similar to the little prayer card things that are often in the chapel in prison.
As I stooped down and opened it, I read the scrawly pencilled words also in English; ‘..nobody, because there are no god.’
Some years ago, Tom Petty sang, ‘Even the losers get lucky sometimes’. Maybe also, even now, the throw away prayers don’t necessarily fall on deaf ears.