No doubt the term "Good Samaritan" is heavily overused but in this instance it would be an understatement.
Back at Easter, we were pedalling through Cheshire into, as ever, a head wind. It was late evening, I was cold and hungry and putting my foot down in a sugar-deprived funk about stopping for the night.
The one thing we need before setting up camp is water. That either means a stream, a pub or someone's house. In this instance, houses were the only option so we knocked on the door of the first place we passed.
Or, rather, Laura did the knocking whilst I stood grumbling at the side of the road, trying to shelter from the wind. As she approached the front door, the owners stepped out clearly on their way out for the evening.
"Oh, sorry, nothing important," I heard Laura say, "we'll try next door."
"Don't be silly. How can we help?"
I didn't hear the rest of the conversation but five minutes later I see Laura walk past the upstairs window of the house. Baffling. Most people have taps downstairs.
Laura reappeared at the front door and beckoned me over as the owners walked past.
"Well, make yourselves at home. We'll be back around eleven o'clock", said Linnie as she and Don made their way to their car.
This couple - who had never met us before we appeared out of the blue, looking tired and grubby - were about to leave us in charge of their house for the night.
We asked for water and they gave us the spare room.
A spork well earned and in the post.
My wife and I are cycling to Australia. Read more at www.thenextchallenge.org
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