Cycling through the vineyards of Champagne
(Click on thumbnail photos to see a larger version.)
Aug. 26: (20 km; sunny; 25°C/77°F) Uneventful flight from Montréal to Paris. Two unwatchable movies and zero leg room - both Air Transat characteristics. Carol's kickstand and derailleur both got squeezed during the loading or unloading at the airports. I was able to bend the stand but we'd have to find a bike shop to deal with the derailleur. As it was then the derailleur touched the spokes when she shifted into the biggest rear cog. We mounted up and set out east from Charles de Gaulle airport, escaping the large ring of ugly suburbs that surround Paris. Since we were only going to be cycling about 20 km this first day right off the plane I put one set of panniers on Carol's bike. (She hasn't ridden with panniers since 1993 due to a Jan. '94 broken hip and chronic knee problems.) However, she found her loaded bike "wobbly" so I put both sets of panniers back on my bike after just 3 km. At Dammartin-St. Mard we loaded the bikes on to a train, switched them to another train at Laon and got to Reims (pronounced almost like "rance" but the "n" is very nasal and if you can "roll" the 'R' just a little bit, you've got it!) at about 6 pm. (It's possible to find these trains that carry your bikes free as "accompanied baggage" - bagage à main - in advance of your trip. Check my web page at http://www.mikebikes.org/trains.htm) We stayed at the Hotel Crystal, an elegant yet inexpensive old hotel with a beautiful courtyard not far from the station. We split a salade de gésiers confits (a salad made with specially conserved duck gizzards, our favorite. Really! Try it! You'll like it.) and a 4-cheese pizza for supper before crashing after being up for almost 30 hours. (Today's route)
Aug. 27: (80 km; partly cloudy; 25°C/77°F)
Having slept in until 8 am we had to rush off to find a bike shop to fix Carol's
derailleur. We found one in the suburbs and the guy looked at the problem, grabbed the derailleur and bent the
offending part pretty well back into shape. At least we could run it through all
the gears without incident. 10 seconds and a handshake was all it took!! We headed back into
Reims to take a look at its most famous sight - the awesome Cathedral Notre Dame
de Reims. I'm told that this is where many of the kings of France were crowned. The nave
is long and incredibly high and the stained glass is as impressive as that at Chartres. We rushed from the church to the station to try to catch the
mid-morning train to Epernay, just 30 km away and the real jumping off point of our trip. The
lineups at the ticket windows were too long and the woman fumbling at the automated
ticket machine was too too slow so we gave up and rushed to the quai
just before the train arrived. We bought our tickets on the train. It's slightly
more expensive that way but we had no choice. At the tourist office in Epernay,
as foreign visitors, we were each treated to two small tastings of the local wine. You may have heard of
it. They call it "champagne". Lovely stuff, even at 11 am. We had a
steep 1.5 km climb out of the city followed by a slightly longer descent before I
realized we were headed in the wrong direction. So back up and down for a
restart. Passing through the town again we happened upon a market so, of course, Carol had to
stop. She purchased only a couple of items of underwear - "French
knickers" as one of our friends calls them. - and we set off again, this
time in the right direction. On our way out we passed a couple of dozen small producers of
champagne, names I've never heard of. There were vineyards covering all the
south facing slopes of the hills. It's a great looking vista. A long straight
ride through a pretty forest ended with a great view of the unusual hilltop
chateau in Montmort. We lunched nearby on melon, yogurt and tomato - healthy
stuff - and then climbed through another forest before turning south
again. A 2.5 km climb after the 60 km mark just about finished me but a
following fast 3 km descent refreshed me as we arrived at our hotel - or so we
thought. "Complet, monsieur!" (Full!) But I had a reservation! I showed her my e-mail confirmation. She
wondered if we had been booked into their other hotel in Sézanne, 11 km away.
She called. Yes, they had a reservation for us there. So we were back on the road again,
this time along the side of a busy route nationale, to Sézanne.
And our planned 55 km trip, because of side trips to bike shops, wrong turns,
touring towns and hotel mix-ups, had turned into an 80 km day. We never come
in under our planned distance. The hotelier apologized for his booking error and
as compensation treated each of us to a glass of champagne as an apéritif before dinner. Nice touch. (Today's route)
Aug. 28: (69 km; sunny; 27°C/81°F) We
descended from Sézanne after breakfast into 35 km of flat farmland. It was like
cycling in Saskatchewan. Carol finds the relentless pedaling on the flat to be
harder on her troubled knees than the climbs and descents. (She rests at
the tops of the hills while she waits for me to catch up and then rests again as
she coasts down the other side. There are no rests on the flat.) At
Mery-sur-Seine we reached the Seine river and followed it south for 30 km into
Troyes (pronounced the same as the French word for 'three' - trois
"ter wah", but roll the "r" as you did for
"Reims").
The heart of the city is medieval - lots of half-timbered
buildings, many of
them tilting awkwardly over crooked cobbled streets. Our hotel, the Comtes de
Champagne, was built first in the XII century but destroyed by fire and rebuilt in
the XVI c. Uneven floors, crooked doors, but charming nonetheless. Troyes boasts
4 large churches in its medieval core. I was most impressed by Ste. Madeleine
because of the intricately carved jubé (hanging gallery)
that separated the churchgoers in the nave from the clergy in the choir. All in
all an easier day, much needed after yesterday's problems. (Today's
route)
The Fosse Dionne in Tonnerre (Yonne)
Aug. 29: (62 km; sunny; 35°C/95°F) We
headed south out of Troyes. There's an impressive memorial in the suburb of
Bucheres where a massacre occurred in 1944. (Click
here to see a brief description. It's chilling!) The ride to
Chaource is on a gently rolling road through a cool forest. Chaource is known
for its delicious camembert-like cheese. There's even a musée de fromage
(cheese museum) here but the thing to see in the town is the XIII
- XVI c church of St. Jean Baptiste. (Most of the churches in France took
more than a century to complete, not surprising considering the technology
available at the time. So it's common to see plans where one part of the church
may have been constructed in the XIII century, another part added in the XV c
and a final one in the XVI c. The stonemason putting the final touch on the
church could be a dozen generations removed from the one who started it.) Within
the Chaource church are many XVI c carvings in both
wood and stone in excellent condition. The statuary in the crypt is life sized,
artfully done and still retains some of the colour imparted by the sculptor(s?) (I
would describe myself as agnostic despite my Catholic
youth, but it is in the churches that one sees the art and architecture of
France.) We climbed gently for 3 km out of town and lunched at a picnic
table on baguette, Chaource cheese, tomato and yogurt - more than our usual but
we wanted to try the cheese. We continued on, passing the source of the cheese,
the large Holstein cows who raised their heads and vacantly watched us cruise
by. A quick descent into Coussegrey was followed by a fierce 2 km
climb. Fully
loaded and at 35°C/95°F it was tough! 5 more km of climbing gently and
then a fast smooth 4 km descent into Tonnerre, culminating at a bar where I
guzzled a carafe of cold water and a beer while my more genteel wife sipped a cool
glass of the local wine. (We like to try the wines of the region in which
we are cycling. Luckily for us, the local wine in Tonnerre is Chablis! This is the
real
Chablis, crisp, dry, splendid, from the nearby town of the same name, not the cheap
'plonk'
you can buy
by the gallon in U.S. supermarkets.) We were staying at a
chambre d'hôte (B&B) in town called the Ferme de la Fosse Dionne. It is
situated right beside the Fosse Dionne, a large pit into which underground water
continuously flows. The source of the flow has never been found. We were told
that several divers had lost their lives exploring the underground river. There is
construction around the pit dating back several centuries. It had mostly been
used as a communal lavoir (a place to do laundry). We had an excellent
meal at the B&B. It is the place to stay in Tonnerre. (Today's route)
Aug. 30: (66 km; sunny; 35°C/95°F) Nice
breakfast at the B&B but a late start. And 100 m ('m' is metres, for
you 'yards', 'miles' and 'Fahrenheit' Yanks out there. A metre is about 10%
longer than a yard.) from the B&B
I noticed that my front tire was almost flat so we had to stop while I replaced
the inner tube. (It's faster to replace the tube than to patch it. That
can be done later.) On our way at last, we climbed steeply for 3.5 km and
then found
ourselves cycling along in countryside best described as valloné
(rolling hills) for the next 25 km, punctuated by occasional stops to try to
determine what was rubbing in my front wheel. I finally noticed a slight wobble
and examined the tire more closely. There it was! The tire was not seated in the
rim after my repair and a bit of the inner tube was bulging out, pinched between
tire and rim! So I deflated, reinstalled and reinflated, all the while being
watched by some curious cows who came over to the fence when we stopped. So a
blowout was prevented ...... but the rubbing noise continued. (I
ultimately found the source of the noise. A bolt had loosened and the rear
mudguard ("fender") was occasionally being touched by the tire.) We stopped in Noyers-sur-Serein, "l'un des plus beaux villages de France" ("one
of the most beautiful villages of France", one of about 140 so designated
around the country). It's a pretty little town with many buildings dating
from the XVI c and a bar that offered cold cider on tap. Off again on rolling
hills. The climbs seem longer than the descents. They certainly take longer. The
temperature was up in the mid-thirties again and I was drinking a lot of water.
I had filled up in Noyers but on 10 km of steep climbs and descents in 35°C
temperature I had used up
almost all of both bottles. In Sacy I found a "source" (a
spring with water coming from the hills) but I didn't know if it was drinkable.
An old couple were sitting outside their home in the shade so I asked them if I
could safely drink the
water. They said I could so I refilled. (Normally I would go
into a bar to refill but in many of these small villages, Sacy included, all the businesses are
closed. The supermarkets in the bigger nearby towns have squeezed them out.) At
Arcy-sur-Cure we had another steep 2.5 km climb (unmarked on Michelin's
map) so by the time we reached the final climb into Mailly-le-Chateau I was
'out of gas'! We struggled into the village and finally found an open bar
where I guzzled a litre of cold water and a beer. Carol was satisfied with a
popsicle and an Orangina. The hotel we had stayed at twice before (le Castel)
was now a chambre d'hôte and table d'hôte (a B&B that
also served evening meals on demand). The former owners had retired and
the new proprietors treated us to an interesting evening. They produced a
gourmet meal (kir, shrimp in a cognac cream sauce (served with a crisp
Chablis), magret de canard
(roasted breast of duck served with a nice young pinot noir), 6 cheeses from the region (Epoisse
was my favorite) and vanilla ice cream with cherries and kirsch (cherry
brandy)) and they joined us at the table for the meal! (At one point in the evening, as I
was commenting on what a special meal this was, madame la
patronne said "It is not very much more difficult to eat well than to
eat poorly.") The three and a half hour meal was filled
with interesting conversation. Though they spoke almost no English and Carol
almost no
French we managed to understand each other although I was exhausted at the end of
it from my role as translator. My French is functional (for hotels, ordering
meals, etc.) but beyond that my vocabulary, though constantly growing, is still limited.
(My pronunciation is good and in a hotel or restaurant or store it seems
to the French that I am fluent in the language so they launch into
rapid conversation with me, thinking that I'm able to follow what they're saying.
That's why I frequently start off by saying something like "Pardon,
madame. Je ne parle que le peu le français. Avez-vous ....." (Excuse
me, ma'am. I speak only a little French. Do you have ....") They
then respond to me more slowly and articulately and then reward me at the end of our
conversation by telling me how good my French is. It's a 'win-win' situation.) We
had a very enjoyable evening! (Today's route)
The barge appears to float on the field of sunflowers but actually sails on the Canal du Nivernais behind.
Aug. 31: (52 km; sunny; 35°C/95°F)
Great breakfast at the B&B - lots to choose from: granola, cheese, juice,
coffee, croissant, baguette, yogurt. Before leaving the village we bought stamps at the post office
and sent a first post card to our grandson back home in Canada. We followed the
Canal du Nivernais to Chateau-Censoir and then turned toward Chamoux, following the
little Chamoux river so this first 20 km stretch was pretty easy. At Chamoux we climbed
steeply through a forest for 2 km and then more gently for 2 more km to the
crest. The 3 km descent into le Maison Dieu mirrored the climb. There was no
café in the village and while we were trying to decide what to do a man noticed
me holding my empty water bottle, stopped his car and asked if we needed water.
He led us to his house a few metres away and invited us in. He and his wife
filled our bottles with bottled water (because he said that the tap
water, though drinkable, did not taste very good). Then they offered us a glass of
kir
and we chatted with them for about an hour. He had been a French jet fighter
pilot in his younger days and at one time was stationed with an American unit in
Germany so his English was good (but rusty). They live in a Paris apartment but
have bought this 250 year old presbytery and are renovating it as their country
home. They will both be retired by next year and hope to spend a lot of time in
it. A charming and interesting couple. ("Kir" is our
favorite apéritif. It is made by mixing one part crème de
cassis, a liqueur made from black currants, with four parts white wine.
Technically the wine should be aligoté (the lesser white wine
of Burgundy, chardonnay being the greater) but any dry white wine will do. We have
it at home regularly.) We arrived in Corbigny around 4 pm,
checked in and then walked downtown to see the old abbey and attached logis
(residence for the monks) but they were closed for
renovations/restorations. We had another excellent meal (at our hotel - the
Buissonnière). (Today's route)
Sep. 1: (75 km; cloudy then sunny; 25°C/77°F)
I awakened at 6 am to the rumblings of distant thunder and occasional flashes
of reflected lightning. It didn't look promising. At 7:15 I walked over to the
railway station in a light sprinkling of rain to see if there was a possibility
of going at least part way to our next destination by train. No luck. There was
no one at the station but there was a schedule posted indicating that there was a
train every Tuesday and every other Friday at 1:30 pm This was Thursday. (I
have since learned that there are no trains any more that stop in Corbigny
- a phenomenon repeated more and more nowadays across France.) I
bought a baguette and we ate half of it with our morning café au lait at
a bar near the hotel. By the time we walked up to the garage to get our bikes
the rain had stopped. We put rain covers on all our baggage and set out to the
south. We had an easy 27 km over gently rolling farmland to Tamnay but the 11 km
to Moulins-Engilbert where we had our pause café was a series of climbs
and descents. And not a drop of rain! As we prepared to leave this "village
de charme" it cooled suddenly
and began to sprinkle so we decided it might be a good time to find un abri
(a shelter) for the bikes and to look around. (This
translates into me finding a bar with an
overhang under which to park the bikes and sitting by them sipping une
pression (a small draft beer) while Carol tours the town. It's a system
we've used regularly in our many French tours and since Carol's bike had been
stolen in Aix-en-Provence in 2004 during a moment of inattention we have become
even more paranoid
about watching them.) I had to don a jacket
since the noon temperature had dropped to 22°C/72°F and the breeze on my sweat
soaked jersey was chilling me. The rain stopped by the time the bikes were
parked which made Carol's tour more enjoyable. The sun made a brief appearance
as we entered the Parc Régional du Morvan and after a couple of climbs and one
nice descent we were in St. Honoré-les-Bains where we stopped for lunch - the
usual: a tomato, yogurt, a nectarine with a small beer for me and a glass of wine
for Carol. (This is one of my boring asides. I must comment on the cars
on the road over here. They are all small! Even the
trucks and vans are small - not the big semi-trailers of course - but delivery
trucks, tradesmen's trucks, etc., are small! At about $2.10 Canadian per litre (or about
$6.75 US per gallon) for gasoline at that time, there were no Hummers or Navigators or Dodge
Ram pickups with the 4 rear wheels. Common sense has prevailed here.)
The sun was now present about half the time and the temperature had climbed back
up a few degrees. We decided to go by way of Semelay, another "village
de charme", and so turned off the main road for an interesting,
twisting, up and down mix of forest and farmland before descending into the
small village. The XI c - XII c Romanesque church is massive in the size of the
supporting columns and the thickness of the walls but the church is dark and
small inside and very plain. We took a tiny, cross-country lane back to the main
road. There were two impossible climbs on it. Well, actually, impossible only
for me. Carol was able to
cycle both of them but she's younger than I am and she doesn't weigh as much as
I do and I'm carrying all the panniers on my bike and ...and..... she's tougher
than I am! Once back on the main road it was mostly downhill all the way into Luzy.
Our hotel was near the entry to the town but there was no one there. We cycled
into centre ville and went to the tourist office but it had closed at the end
of August. At the mairie (town hall) the man phoned the
hotel and found that it would open at 5 pm. At supper we each had a nice slice
of terrine de lapin (rabbit) and then split a 3 cheese pizza. (Today's route)