Morning in the misty mountains south of le Puy-en-Velay (Haute-Loire)
(Click on thumbnail photos to see a larger version.)
Sep.
2: (75 km; sunny; 30°C/86°F) It was overcast when I
awakened but was clearing by the time we had our café and pain aux raisins in
town. I had to tear Carol away from a market that was just setting up. A 2 km
climb out of Luzy set us up for a nice 4 km descent to the Somme river (not the
Somme in northern France where there were over a million dead or wounded in WW1, but
rather a small stream flowing down to the Loire.) This is my favourite
kind of cycling: following a river downstream. It makes the km fly by. We passed
many pastures, most with the large white gentle looking Charolais cattle but
occasionally with a flock of sheep. We climbed steeply into the town of Bourbon-Lancy,
an unexpected pleasant surprise. There were flowers everywhere! We decided to have our
pause café here. Carol headed off down a pedestrian-only street to tour the old
centre of the town while I wrote these notes. The twin steepled church dates
from the late XIX c and is built in the late Gothic style with tall pillars
supporting the nave. It is such a (relatively) new building
because there was only one religious building in the town that
survived the 1789 revolution and the 'reign of terror' that followed. All the
monks and nuns fled the town at that time and every church building but the one
was completely destroyed by the rampaging "citizens" of the new
republic. The oldest part of the town
is still intact, enclosed by a complete set of ramparts. One enters this small
enclave through a gate in a XII c bell tower and steps back in time on twisting
narrow cobbled streets lined with half-timbered buildings. Well restored and
well maintained, it's quite impressive. 
We
descended for 4 km from Bourbon-Lancy to the Loire river and then turned south for 17
km of flat cycling between the Loire and its canal. We had our lunch and then
continued south toward Jaligny-sur-Besbre, our destination for the day. We
turned off the highway to take a look at the Chateau
Beauvoir (XIII - XV c). It's privately owned and in a beautiful situation
but allows no visitors. However they have invited visitors to tour the
attractive gardens that encircle the castle. Jaligny is a pretty village set
back from the main road with the quiet little river Besbre flowing by. There's a
large privately owned XI c chateau there that was undergoing extensive repairs
to the roof. The XI c St. Hippolyte church is a typical massively built
Romanesque building but seems truncated for its width. As with most churches of
that age it is dark and sparingly decorated with sculpture and statuary. We had
a nice meal at the Hotel de Paris. (I had spent a few minutes
entertaining the two children of the hotelier and we were surprisingly rewarded
with a complimentary glass of kir before dinner.)
Sep.
3: (51 km; sunny; 34°C/93°F) We decided to follow the
river south on a quiet rural road rather than on the busy highway on the other
side. Except for one steep climb the decision was a good one. Almost half way to
Lapalisse the road narrowed to a single lane and we passed sheep and cattle but
no traffic. In the busy, unattractive, small city of Lapalisse we bought a demi-baguette
(a half) to have with our morning grand crème (a
double espresso with steamed milk - essentially café au lait). Carol carries a small jar of confiture d'abricot (apricot
preserves) in her trunk for this morning
ritual. There's a very large chateau in Lapalisse that struck me as looking like
a prison. As we left the city we passed under a very high railway viaduct
before climbing steeply, heading south. As we made the 7 km climb into the little village of
le Breuil I could see the mountains of the Massif Central looming ahead of us
and I got that same nagging thought I'd had since that first day: "Have we bitten off more than we
can chew"? 
We
climbed almost steadily for another 7 km out of le Breuil. By the time we reached the
turn to go toward Châtel-Montagne, perched on a mountain on the other side of a
deep valley, I had decided to pass it up - it was up into the mid-thirties again
(mid-nineties for you Yanks. Get with the program!) and, after all, if you've seen one XII c Romanesque church, you've seen them
all! So we continued on, still climbing (!), to le Mayet-de-Montagne where we had our lunch. The ride
on to Ferrières-sur-Sichon consisted of 2 long climbs
and 2 fast descents. The Auberge du Sichon is a pleasant small hotel with an
interesting menu. The village is small and in a mountainous setting. On our way
in we saw a hunter with his rifle and a roadside sign warning that "chasse de
grande gibier est en course" ("big game hunting
season is on") and the tourist office in the village sold fishing permits so I guess that's some of what keeps the village going. There's
certainly not much farming in these mountains. There's an unusual church in the
village and a nice little private chateau.
Sep.
4: (42 km; sunny; 35°C/95°F) As we left Ferrières we had
an easy 2 km climb through a dark oak forest, then turned at the crest and were
immediately on a break-neck descent, twisting through oak forest for 3 km
down to the Sichon river. Great ride! We climbed again for 2 km and then
decided to take a little rural single lane road across country because our
Michelin map indicated 2 climbs if we stayed on the main road but 2 descents if
we took the little lane. What Michelin failed to note about the little lane was the
1.5 km 17% climb between
the two descents! After pushing the bikes on foot for about 750 m up through more
forest we came to a fork in the road. The wider lane descended the hill so we
guessed we had reached the crest and this was the second downhill. We rode down
this steep dark shaded lane for about 200 m and found
ourselves in the front yard of a B&B! Back up the hill on foot
again, for another 750 m through evergreen forest. It was hard work! From the summit, finally, we descended steeply for 500 m to the highway. The guy at
the B&B had told us to take a little farm lane right near the highway
intersection. 
We
looked at it skeptically and asked the driver of a car that had stopped at the
corner. He said it went where we wanted to go but it descends (a good
thing), there are some twists and turns (OK, we can handle that)
and the road surface was just like the road we were standing on (paved
but with ruts and holes and loose gravel - not such a good thing).
Oh well, what the heck! Off we went. It was only about 1 km long and was exactly as
he had described it and it brought us to the wide smooth D63 highway. We flew
down the mountainside, twisting and turning for almost 7 km, all the way into
the pretty little town of Chateldon where we had our pause café .
The 12 km so far had taken us two and a half hours, most of which was
while we pushed our bikes, on foot, up that steep rural lane! Chateldon has some well
maintained half-timbered old houses, lots of flowers and a nice looking old
chateau. We climbed steeply out of the village (of course!) but
then had a great 3.5 km descent into Puy Guillaume, fast at first and almost
straight so we could just let our bikes go. We lunched in town and then climbed
out again. Temperature was back in the mid-thirties again and the wide straight
highway was in full sun. Luckily, we didn't have far to go. We stayed at the
hotel Eliotel
in Pont-de-Dore. (They had internet access at the hotel. In my 10 days away so
far I had 6 genuine messages and 264 spam messages. It's the price I pay
for having my e-mail address "public" on the 'net from this website. Luckily, my ISP does a
good job of filtering them out.) Nice meal in the hotel
garden. Carol had her best ever crème brulée.
Sep.
5: (75 km; overcast and rain; 24°C/75°F) We awakened early
to a thunderstorm but by the time we had packed up, put the rain covers on
everything and checked out the rain had stopped. We had breakfast in town,
stalling a bit to let the weather clear, but finally had to set out under gloomy
skies at 8:45 am. We stopped after 10 km at a supermarket in Courpière to pick up lunch
groceries and by the time I came out of the store it was raining quite heavily.
We waited under the protective overhang of the store for an hour, hoping the
rain would stop or at least diminish but to no avail. So we donned our plastic
ponchos, mounted up and headed off into the downpour, facing a steep 5 km climb on a
bike lane at the side of a busy divided highway. It took 45 minutes in the pouring
rain. I abandoned the poncho at the top for the descent because it flaps too much in the
wind. By the time we finished the fast chilly descent the rain had stopped. We
had one more climb before dropping down into Olliergues where we had our lunch.
I removed my soaking wet Gore-tex jacket and cycling jersey and put on a dry
long sleeved jersey and wind vest. What a nice warm feeling! In Ambert (home
of one of France's great blue cheeses, Fourme d'Ambert) we checked out
the massive church of St. Jean with its huge thick interior columns and nice
stained glass. Carol started to tour the old town centre but it started to
sprinkle again so she abandoned her tour and we put on the ponchos and rode out of
town, just as the rain stopped. We followed an arrow-straight, flat 15 km
section of the D908 to Arlanc. By this time we were hearing thunder again so we
pressed on quickly to Dore l'Église where we had a reservation at the Auberge
du Ripailleur. No one was there! We were told by a couple of locals that the
restaurant was never open on Monday or Tuesday (this was a Monday).
How could this be? I had a reservation and I had even sent the 20 euro deposit that they demanded!
How could they be closed? One of the two villagers drove me to the mairie where the woman repeated the
closed Monday story but she phoned the hotel anyway and there was no answer. Was
there another possibility in the village? The guy who drove me said that the bar
across the street from the Auberge sometimes rents rooms by the week - perhaps she would have one
available for the one night. 
And
the mairie woman said there was a new chambre d'hôte (B&B) in the village that might
not be full. So back we went to where Carol was anxiously waiting with the
bikes. The woman who had first talked to us in the village was chatting with her
- it was a very one-sided conversation. Carol had told her, using almost her complete French
vocabulary, that she did not speak French but the woman kept talking to her
anyway. (Despite spending about one twelfth of her life in France over
the past 21 years - one month per year - Carol still doesn't speak French.)
The woman walked me over to the B&B and the Dutch
woman who ran it (and who could speak English) said she had a
room available and that they served an evening meal. Problem solved, crisis
over! As I was leaving to go back to collect Carol and the bikes the Dutch woman
said "Don't you want to know how much the room costs?" and I responded
"I don't care!" At 6 pm with thunderstorms threatening we would
have stayed there no matter the cost. I tracked down the man who had taken me
to the mairie in the bar and offered to buy him a drink but he declined. "C'est
normale, monsieur.", he said. ("It was no big deal!" And
he
dropped into the B&B a little later to make sure we had settled in and were
being taken care of. I don't know where people get the idea that the French are
arrogant and unfriendly. It has never been our experience.)
So we shared a table at supper with 10 Dutch tourists, all from the same town as
the owners of the B&B. They all could speak a few words of English but no
French. The man sitting next to me had the most English and so he struggled,
carrying most of the conversation and translation. I remembered how difficult
that role had been for me in Mailly-le-Chateau so I felt sorry for him. And all through dinner and late into the evening it
teemed rain! Not a great day!
Coming into le Puy-en-Velay (Haute-Loire) with the famous mountaintop landmarks barely visible in the rain
Sep. 6:
(57 km; rain; 15°C/59°F) It was raining
lightly when the church bells rang at 7 am. (This happens everywhere
in France - the bells, not the rain. It seems to be a national alarm clock!) We put the rain covers on everything
and then had a Dutch/French breakfast - cheese and ham and juice (Dutch) and croissant and
baguette and café au lait (French). This host couple had left Holland and emigrated to
France in May of this year, bought this XIII c former seniors 'rest home', did some renovations
and opened as a B&B. They have great plans for it but it is already a
pleasant stop. And they saved us from an impossible situation the night before!
The rain had stopped as we left. The hotelier was there in the morning at the Auberge
where we were supposed to have stayed. He was désolé! He had our reservation but had forgotten!! We
would have been the only guests because of the normal Monday closing. I told him
"Ce n'est pas grave, monsieur. Nous sommes restés à la chambre
d'hôte." ("It's not serious. We stayed at the B&B.")
No harm, no foul. But he said it was très, très grave. He was very
upset. But I convinced him that we were not put out (at least not that
morning. At 6 pm the previous day it had been a different story.) He gave me
back my 20 euro deposit and we were on our way. We checked out the church - the
town's name included "church" in it so we thought it might be special.
It was typical of XII c Romanesque churches - dark, small, massive pillars
supporting a low nave. It had started to rain again as we mounted up so, ponchos
on again, we headed out. Well, more precisely, we headed "up"! We
started the day in the cool rain with a 10 km climb to la Chaise Dieu where we
stopped in a bar for a grand crème and tried to warm up. We were about
500 m higher than our B&B and the climb had taken us 2 hours! Carol took a
quick look around the town while I sat and shivered in the bar. We looked into
the huge abbey in the town. It is complete with cloister and logis for
the monks and the immense church has an huge organ in a loft all carved in wood
and a walled off choir to keep the riff-raff separate from the clergy. On a
different day we'd have spent an hour there but it was still pouring and we had
40 km yet to go so off we went into the rain. It wasn't as bad as you might think. 
After
all, once you're soaked right through to the skin you can't get any wetter so
you just soldier on. As long as it's not too cold, it's bearable. We
stopped in Bellevue-la-Montagne and phoned our grandson. He was starting
third grade and it was his first day of school this year so we caught him just before he left
home. We had a short climb to the Col de la Croix de l'Arbre and then a great (but
wet) 5 km descent into St. Paulien where we stopped to drip dry and to have the
worst cup of coffee we've ever had in France. (Actually it was the worst
two sips of coffee - we couldn't drink it. I think the milk was bad.) The
final push into le Puy-en-Velay was easier because of several long downhills,
the last into rush hour traffic. We glimpsed the famous landmarks of this city -
the Notre Dame de France
statue atop one old volcanic cone and the small church atop another - as we passed through but
by this time our only thoughts were to get out of the dripping clothing and
soaking wet shoes and into a hot shower. Our hotel was about 1 km up to
the south from the city centre so that would be one less km to climb the next morning. The hotel clerk told
us that rain was expected again the next day. At dinner, two days after having
her best ever crème brulée, Carol had her worst ever! She
stopped after the first bite! Our room was absolutely chaotic
with almost everything hanging in hopes of getting dry.
And I thought yesterday was bad!!
Sep. 7:
(41 km; mix of cloud & sun; 20°C/68°F) It
was still overcast when we awakened but by the time we repacked all of our stuff
(which amazingly was all dry, even our squishy shoes) we saw a
couple of spots of blue in the sky. We each had a yogurt and decided to pass on
breakfast, opting instead to log as many km as possible in case the weather
turned again. We climbed steadily out of le Puy for 8 km. Along the way
we had a great view to the east of
the misty peaks and dark valleys of this region of ancient volcanoes. We climbed very
slowly over the next 25 km, occasionally levelling off and even more rarely
descending. As we got
farther from le Puy we got into an area of prosperous looking farmland, covering
the land as far as we could see with cultivated fields and pastures except for
the wooded domes of the many small mountains around us. As the sun
made more and more frequent appearances my mood improved accordingly. We reached the Col de Rayol (1240 m), 600 m higher than our
starting point that day, and descended quickly
from the col into Pradelles (another
of the 'plus beaux villages de France') as clouds rolled in. We stopped
here for a drink and Carol, the true tourist, took some time to tour the village
to see why it was thought to be "beau" while I sat in the warm bar,
out of the wind. She found the village to be interesting and unusual, but she
wasn't sure she'd call it "beau". We hopped on our bikes and headed
south out of Pradelles. Wow!! What a ride! 6 km of twisting descent on a wide
smooth road - over 45 km/h all the way down and I never turned a pedal and never
touched a brake. And it led right into Langogne - which, unfortunately,
was a disappointment.
There certainly are old buildings in this 1000 year old town including the XII c
Romanesque church but the town is unattractive, there are many closed businesses
and the only open restaurant had an unappealing menu. We dined in our room
instead on a "take-home" pizza and a nice Alsatian sylvaner.