(Click on the "thumbnail" photos to see a larger version and description)
This is a log of a month long cycle tour in France that I took with my wife Carol and (for the first ten days) two friends (Peter and Heather Stark) in the summer of 1997. I apologize up front for its wordiness. I'm getting worse as I get older. This was my 11th cycling tour in France (9th for Carol) and my 13th in Europe. We are what some cycle tourists disparagingly refer to as "credit card tourists". Although we tour unsupported (i.e., no 'sag wagon'), we carry no camping equipment, we stay in hotels or chambres d'hôte (B & B's) and we eat in restaurants. I make no apologies for this hedonism. As to tents and sleeping bags? Been there! Done that !
The attached map outlines our route.
Day 1 (39 km): After a delay of only 90 minutes (not bad when you consider they had to change planes due to technical problems and all the baggage and food, etc. had to be switched), we took off from Montréal's Mirabel airport and flew direct to Marseille-Provence aéroport just north of Marseille, arriving at about 10:00 AM. It was difficult to escape the high speed roads that surround the airport but we found a nice (hilly) route east to Aix-en-Provence in brilliant sunshine and 30 degree temperatures (high 80's Fahrenheit). Peter's chain separated. He has one of those master links for easy removal of the chain for cleaning and apparently also for disabling his drive train on a point rond (traffic circle) just as he enters suburban Aix. We found a hotel close to the city centre, cleaned up and wandered for a while in this very beautiful city. The wide boulevards and narrow back streets are very reminiscent of Paris, but the sun shines! (We'll go back there someday!) We dined at a brasserie (fashionably) facing the Cours Mirabeau and then collapsed after our very long two days of preparation, air travel and cycling.
Day
2 (40 km): There's a large and busy
market which fills much of the old centre of Aix on Saturday
mornings. Since Carol and Heather are among the world's leaders in
"power shopping", we knew we wouldn't get away early. Peter bought a
paper and we settled down at a café while the women carried
out their blitz. I was a little worried because I knew that I'd be
carrying whatever Carol bought for the next month but she showed
remarkable restraint, buying only enough Provençal fabric for
a small table cloth and napkins. We left Aix before noon. On our way
out, Carol hit a pot-hole and fell - painful road rash on her arms,
hands and knees (a bit bloody) and her helmet took a substantial blow
from the curb. (Helmets are so unnecessary!) We had a
great ride along a chain of small mountains (La Chaîne
d'Eguilles) into Salon-de-Provence. En route, we saw olive
groves and picked rosemary, growing like weeds at the side of the
road! There was a lot of activity in this very attractive town - it's
Bastille Day weekend - lots of people in traditional costumes,
parades including bands and horses and wagons and a demonstration of
traditional Provençal music and dance. We went up to the
chateau in the centre of the town after dinner - there was a
spectacle that night of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table but
it didn't start until dark (about 10:00 PM) and was about 3 hours
long, so we decided against it.
Day
3 (61 km): Sunday, sunny and 30 degrees again. Provence is
so dependable! We continued west across the plain south of the
Alpilles, a chain of small mountains (where Les
Baux-de-Provence is located). At Maussane-les-Alpilles
they were setting up for a fête. A rock band was
tuning up in the square, a couple of stands were getting ready to
sell food and drinks and a lot of people were gathering around. We
decided to have our lunch there. At one of the food stands the man
was preparing paella in one huge wok-like pan and
tellines in another beside it. (We had first tasted
tellines in Aigues-Mortes on our last trip to Provence. They are tiny
mauve-gray clams, about the size of shelled almonds, and cooked in
olive oil with approximately equal parts of clams, parsley and
garlic! Well perhaps not quite equal, but very
garlicky! Fantastic!) I ordered a container of them and we sat down
to enjoy them and to watch the activity. A group of men were tying
metal guard rails along the sides of the street and halfway across it
at one point. A large closed truck backed up to this barricade and
they lashed more of these metal rails to the truck. It became clear
that we were about to see une manifestation taurine
(the "running of the bulls") on the main street of this
village! It took them a long time, but finally everything was
set and from above with long poles they began prodding the
"passengers" in this van towards the back. There was a lot of banging
around inside - I could see the metal sides of the van denting as the
bulls crashed into it. It reminded me of the opening scene of
"Jurassic Park". When they opened the end, a couple of the black
bulls of the Camargue, horns encased in leather sheaths, emerged and
ran down the ramp and down to the barricades at the far end of the
street, scattering the men who were foolish enough to be inside this
makeshift "corral". The bulls returned to the end of the ramp, did a
lot of pawing the ground, made a couple of rushes at the idiots who
were out there taunting them and who were very good at climbing
trees, lamp posts, etc., when the bulls responded, but that was about
it. We watched for a couple of minutes, then collected our bikes and
continued west, climbing to see the Moulin de Daudet above
Fontvielle and then cruising into Tarascon to look for
a hotel. As usual on a Sunday in France, it was very quiet in both
Tarascon and Beaucaire, its twin city across the Rhône,
even though it was the day before Bastille Day. We got the feeling it
was quiet there all the time - the two cities seemed to be withering
away. Very nice hotel, though - Les Echevins, in a 17th century
building.
Day 4 (34 km): As we headed towards Avignon on a small country lane we met a cyclist who told us there was a traditional market on in Chateaurenard, just east of Avignon. We detoured to the town and found a busy festival on, with residents in 18th century clothing and market stalls displaying foods, handicrafts and tools from that era. Great ambiance in the town. We would stay there rather than in expensive, crowded Avignon if we were in that area again. In Avignon, because it was Bastille Day there was even more of the circus atmosphere that is always there in the summer. I have never liked the city. It's dirty and crowded and one is constantly bombarded by people selling junk or begging or passing out handbills or fire-eating, etc. It's as seedy as any carnival is. We watched a group of dancers in traditional costumes on the Pont St. Bénezet ("Sur le pont d'Avignon, on y danse, on y danse.....") and then a great fireworks display after dark.
Day 5 (43 km): We crossed the Rhône to
Villeneuve-les-Avignon where we had our usual breakfast
(pain au raisin from the local
boulangerie (bake shop) with chocolat
chaud for Peter and café au lait for
the rest of us) then climbed up to Fort St. André which
towers above the town with great views of the river and Avignon. We
climbed out of town to the north then had a nice long descent back to
river level and on up to Roquemaure where we caught the tail
end of a Tuesday market with just enough time to pick up our lunch
stuff. We went to the "Bar des Sports" where we got a drink and ate
our just purchased lunch. There seems to be a "Bar des Sports" in
every town, all decorated the same way (long shelves with awful
looking trophies for rugby, soccer, boules, cycling, or whatever and
pictures of assorted teams) and the bière en
fût (draft beer) and vin ordinaire are
always very cheap. They are as ubiquitous as McDonald's. Peter and
Heather took the more direct route into Orange while Carol and
I took a more round-about way through
Chateauneuf-du-Pâpe. The mistral (the wind
that blows south down the Rhône valley) was blowing that day
providing some relief from the intense Provençal heat but
making the last 15 km a little tough. We checked into our hotel
(Peter & Heather were already there) and got cleaned up for our
big adventure.
Orange has one of the best preserved Roman
theatres in the world, seating about 9000 people, and we had
tickets that night for Donizetti's opera "Lucia di
Lammermoor". (The last time we were in Orange we could hear them
rehearsing "Carmen" but we were unable to stay to see it that
time. We vowed that if we were there again we would arrange to be
there on the night of a performance in the antique theatre.) I had
booked tickets for this opera in February and tonight was the night.
We had a nice meal on the street across from the theatre. While we
were eating, we were entertained by the struggles of a woman who was
trying to park her Porsche in a tight spot across the street. It must
have taken her 5 minutes despite being assisted by attendants who
were moving barriers for her. When she finally got out of the car,
people jumped up from tables in the restaurants and rushed over,
programs in hand, for her autograph! She was the "diva", Kathleen
Cassello, the star of the evening's performance. It turned out that
she can sing; she just can't drive! The 2000 year old theatre was the
real star of the evening. The red brick wall (complete with
alcove containing a large statue of Caesar Augustus) which backs the
stage is about four stories high and as long as a football field.
After dark, when the opera began, the scenes were projected on this
wall (with lasers, I guess), effectively transforming this ancient
brick wall into the castles, trees and hills of mediaeval Scotland.
It was fascinating. Even though we were in the "cheap" seats (about
$45 Canadian each) far from the stage, the music and voices were
clear and I guess if I understood Italian, I would have found them
understandable. It was a memorable evening. We timed this trip to
allow us to see an opera in Orange. It was well worth it!
Day 6 (63 km): We headed east from Orange to the
Dentelles de Montmirail, a cluster of small mountains
surrounded by vineyards of superior Côtes du Rhône wines
(including Gigondas and Vacqueras). At Séguret (one of
"Les Plus Beaux Villages de France", or so the sign said) we decided
to take a small road over the mountains to Vaison-la-Romaine.
Big mistake! I asked a farmer on the road as we left the village if
this road went to Vaison. He said yes, so we
climbed very steeply (even walking some) until we finally
crested the hill after about 3 km.
There the road changed to a walking trail of the French "Grande
Randonée" network. The surface was large chunks of crushed
limestone - completely uncyclable. We had to walk our bikes most of
the 6 km into Vaison! Heather had a fall, not too serious, but
with very painful road-rash nonetheless. We lunched in Vaison and
then headed northeast through Nyons (pronounced "knee own
ss"). I got a puncture just outside Nyons which we hurriedly
fixed and we continued the 10 km to Condorcet and up the 1 km
very steep hill to the B&B we had booked from Canada - "La
Traversière". (I happened upon their web site - http://www.frenchconnections.co.uk/accom/086.html
) It's run by an English couple, Pamela and Dave. We had fun with her
Yorkshire accent - everything was "loovely" or "woonderful". We had
dinner at the B&B and it too was "loovely". The wine was very
nice. I asked Dave where it came from and he pointed to vineyards
which bordered their property just a few metres away -"There!"
Day
7 (54 km): Great breakfast at the B&B. The view was
spectacular across the valley to the Baronnies, a range of
small mountains which grow larger to the east as the Alps rise
up out of eastern France. There were more repairs to make. Heather
had a puncture and Peter had broken a spoke.
Without panniers, we headed into Nyons where a large
busy market filled the main square. I bought a jar of black
olives to bring home - Nyons is the major town on the "Route des
Oliviers". Nyons olives are so good they have an appelation
controlée, just like French wines do. (Unfortunately,
when we opened the jar months later at home, they had gone bad. Big
disappointment!) We separated from Peter and Heather and headed out
to do a loop in the Baronnies. They stayed in town to get the broken
spoke repaired. It was on the freewheel side, of course. It always
is. I think that's one of Murphy's Laws. As we turned towards the
mountains, the sky became very dark and threatening so
we turned around and hustled back the 25 km to Nyons. The weather
seemed to simmer down a bit so we took the opportunity to tour the
vielle ville, the mediaeval heart of the town.
Another big mistake! That's two days in a row! It started to
pour. We had time to shelter our bikes and settle down under cover at
a café before we got wet. We thought we'd just sit it out but
the rain wouldn't stop. Finally, we gave up and took off in the
pouring rain to do the 10 km to our B&B. Once we dried out we had
another nice meal and fun evening with our hosts.
Day
8 (53 km): We had another great breakfast and headed back
through Nyons then turned north, into the wind. By now the
mistral had lost its romance. Except for the relentless wind,
it was a lovely day of cycling - surrounded by small mountains, great
views, quaint small villages, lots of lavender
fields. We arrived at our hotel in Dieulefit where we had
a nice meal. I tried a glass of Clairette de Die, a very nice
fruity bubbly wine produced in the area. It was a pleasant
apéritif. (This area is called the Diois
(pronounced 'dee-wah'), after the small town of Die
(pronounced 'dee'), a little east of here in the foothills of
the Alps (pronounced 'alps').)
Day 9 (62 km): We had breakfast in town. There was a large brocante (antique/junk market) setting up. The women sprinted through it but didn't buy anything. The mistral was there to meet us again as we left town and had increased its ferocity. I thought it was supposed to be a winter wind but I've been told it's there all year round. Heed this advice: if you must cycle in the Rhône valley, cycle it from north to south!! I find I'm using a lot of low gears this trip. Maybe it's because I'm carrying all four panniers. (Carol wears braces on both her knees and she broke her hip in 1994 - fully recovered now but still a worry. I'm trying to prolong her cycling career by carrying both sets of panniers.) Maybe it's because I weigh 100 kg and I'm in my late 50's. It's probably a combination of all those things but, in any case, I'm grateful for my 24 tooth 'granny gear'. We had a 4 km climb from Roynac to the Col du Devés and then a great long descent into Grane on the Drôme river. Once across we took quiet farm lanes until just outside of Valence, then into the heart of the busy city. It was cool and still breezy that evening at dinner.
Day 10: We took the train to Lyon. It's possible to carry your bikes for free on certain trains provided you load and unload the bikes yourselves. Those trains are indicated on the little blue SNCF timetables with little bicycle logos. We knew which trains we had to take before we left Canada because the information is available on the 'net. (Check out my web page on 'bikes on trains' to identify which trains allow bikes as free "bagage à main" (accompanied baggage) in France and Germany.) We found the info to be absolutely accurate, even when SNCF personnel doubted our data (until they checked!) When we got to Lyon we chose separate hotels because we were losing our cycling partners. They were taking the train to Nantes from Lyon's Gare Part Dieu the next day to meet some other cyclists while Carol and I were taking the train from Gare Perrache to Villefranche-sur-Saône, just 25 km away, so we could avoid cycling through the suburban sprawl of Lyon. We rejoined our friends in Lyon's vielle ville for dinner, but then had a sad farewell as we headed back to our hotels.
Day 11 (57 km): We got on the wrong train!! When I
looked at the big board in the station I read the wrong quai number.
I expected to find one of those little two-car trains on our quai and
that's what was there. I was a little surprised that it left 5
minutes early but the error didn't register then. We stopped at one
little station and the sign on the quai said "Direction Roanne"! I
thought that was odd since Roanne is west of Lyon in the Massif
Central and we were supposedly headed north to Villefranche. I pulled
out the map to see if I could locate the village. I couldn't, nor
could I locate the next one. Finally, when the train stopped at
l'Arbresle I found it on the map and knew for sure we were on
the wrong train and headed in the wrong direction. I grabbed our
panniers and told Carol we had to get off. She complained "You could
have given me some warning!" but when I told her what I'd done she
jumped into gear and we rushed back to unload our bikes (since the
train only stops in these places for about a minute.) When I examined
the map as the train departed I saw that there was no harm done; we
were as close to our destination for the night as we would have been
had we gone to Villefranche. We climbed steeply north out of
l'Arbresle then had a nice descent into Chessy-les-Mines where
we had breakfast. Another stiff climb and then 5 km of rolling hills
covered with vineyards and we were at Theizé
(pronounced 'Tezay') where we had booked a room in the little
Hôtel Theizerot, the only hotel in the area. We left our bags
and headed out to tour this little southern-most corner of the
Beaujolais. Our first stop was the pretty little hilltop
village of Oingt (pronounced like the number 20, 'vingt',
except it starts with an 'O'), with its narrow cobbled streets and
buildings made of the 'pierres dorées' (golden
stones) of the region. Great views!
We had a long, fast, twisting descent into the valley and then a
fierce climb up the other side to Ste. Paule. From there
we had a lovely 5 km descent to the Azergues river. We
climbed to Ternand, another mediaeval hilltop village on the
other side of the river. We followed the river a little then turned
east at Chamelet (tiny covered market) and began the 6 km
climb up through the Bois Grange to the Col du Joncin.
Great views on the way up and at the summit. We rode the ridge for a
bit and then had a very fast (chilly) descent into
Ville-sur-Jarnioux, another pleasant looking town with the
almost ochre-coloured stone buildings. From there it was a short
climb back up to Theizé. Theizé itself is a very pretty
little village - narrow cobbled streets, fine old church, some
buildings with dated doorways going back more than 200 years. We had
a very nice meal at the hotel with a bottle of Beaujolais from the
wine cooperative we could see from the dining room window. It was an
eventful day and our best day of cycling on the trip!
Day
12 (75 km): We headed north over the rolling
hills of the Beaujolais, vineyards everywhere, stopping at
Salles-Arbuissonas-en-Beaujolais. We went down a little street
to see the old church but there was a funeral there. We turned to
leave but one of the people told us we shouldn't miss the 12th C
cloister beside the church. He was right - it was tiny but
beautifully preserved and cared for. We passed Côte de
Brouilly and Brouilly vineyards - we had planned to pass
through all ten Beaujolais cru's on that day. (Quick
trivia question for you oenophiles out there: Can you name the ten?
Bonus question: Which one is the most recently included? Answers at
the bottom of this trip log.) However, since I had done that on an
earlier trip, I convinced Carol to head west to Beaujeu (where
we had lunch) and climb to the corniche above the
vineyards. After an 8 km climb we reached the Col de Durbize
with superb views all along the way. Our descent was equally long. It
was time to find a place to stay. We peeked into Jullié
- didn't like it. Juliénas was fine but the hotel was
full. There were two good looking restaurants in St. Amour,
but no hotels. Carol got a puncture on the descent to
Chânes so a rapid replacement was done. However, her
tube was irreparable! Finally, we found the Auberge de St.
Véran, a small hotel I had stayed at ten years earlier, in the
hamlet of La Roche. Serious restaurant! Great meal!
Day 13 (62 km): We had planned to cycle up through Pouilly and Fuissé to the rock at Solutré but abandoned that to go into Macon to get a new tube - for once pragmatism prevailed. Breakfast in the vielle ville. It looked like it might rain. (It didn't) We left Macon and the river and headed north through some little villages, unfortunately bypassing Chardonnay because of our delay in Macon. (I had wanted to visit the village because Carol claims she doesn't like Chardonnay wines so I had wanted to take her directly to the source to try the wine in its original style, not the oaky style of the new world vintners.) We climbed to the hilltop mediaeval village of Brancion. Great view! Neat chateau. West now over hilly terrain, finally stopping in Cormatin. Carol toured the grand and splendidly furnished chateau and accompanying gardens. Some of the rooms are the most sumptuous and best preserved examples of early 17th C aristocratic living still existing in France.
Day 14 (102 km): I had another puncture just outside of Cormatin. I think we've had more this year than in all our trips combined. Carol always takes a photo during the repair. She thinks it's cute! I'm not as positive about the experience. We bought our lunch stuff at a small market in Salornay-sur-Guye where we had breakfast. We arrived in St. Bonnet-de-Joux after a long climb and a fine long descent. I bought another tube. The price was outrageous but I'm starting to get paranoid about these flat tires. From there we had a 'loovely' ride on tiny roads into Charolles where we found a splendid chambre d'hôte (Simone and Max Laugerette). We dropped off our panniers and headed out to tour the Charolais countryside. This part of Burgundy is very different. No vineyards. Très valloné! (rolling hills). Lots of the large white cattle that bear the name of the region. At La Clayette (pronounced 'la klet') there is a great old chateau, complete with moat, that looks like my childhood vision of a castle. It houses a display of antique automobiles. The small 12th C church at Bois-Ste. Marie is a fine example of the romanesque churches that dot the region. (In fact, there's a 'Route des églises romaines' that you can follow to see a dozen or so examples.) We followed more tiny shaded lanes, unexpectedly coming upon the very grand Chateau Drée in a woodsy setting and then headed back, a little tired after our one and only 100+ km day. We had a fine meal at the Hôtel de France in Charolles.
Day 15 (82 km): Great breakfast at the B&B. We took little farm lanes north of the route nationale to avoid the traffic between Charolles and Paray-le-Monial just 15 km away. We found a hotel, dropped our panniers and headed for the large busy market in the town centre. There's a grand church in Paray. We headed out to the south over rolling hills to check out some of the nearby villages. Beautiful cycling, great views, lots of big white cows. One of the villages, Sémur-en-Brionnais, is included in "Les plus beaux villages de France". We wondered why. Whoever picked this one should see Theizé!! It threatened rain most of the afternoon but we never had a drop. We were pooped after two consecutive long days of cycling in hilly terrain. (today's route)
Day 16 (84 km): We slept in a little and left at 9:30, following the little river Oudrache to the north. We avoid the 'red' and 'yellow' roads on the Michelin maps. They're the busy ones. When I'm planning the day's route I look for the little 'white' roads. Often the only traffic we encounter are tractors or cars driven by the farmers although this morning we were held up on a very small lane by a large cow and calf who were being led from one pasture to another. We continued almost straight north on roads so little used that sometimes in shady areas there was moss growing along the centre of the road. This western part of Burgundy is quite hilly, with 2 or 3 km climbs and descents being fairly common. We arrived in the old Gallo-Roman town of Autun after 85 km of great cycling. It was Saturday and we had trouble finding a room. We ended up in the Hôtel de France across from the station. She had one room left - we had to climb 56 steps (Carol counted them) with our bags to a room at the top of the hotel. The ceiling sloped so that I couldn't stand beside the bed without hitting my head. There was no window, only a skylight above my pillow (It didn't rain). The toilet was down the hall and the shower was on the next floor. On the other hand, it was clean, it was very inexpensive, madame la patronne was very gracious and apologetic, we had a very good meal there and, after all, once you've had your shower, it doesn't matter if it was on the next street.
Day
17 (55 km): After six consecutive days of long hilly
rides, we decided to take the late afternoon train from Autun to
Avallon rather than tackle the 100 km over the small mountains
of the Parc Régional du Morvan. It gave us much
of the day to tour Autun and to fit in a short afternoon ride in the
nearby countryside. Autun has a number of remnants of its Roman past
as well as some fine mediaeval buildings in its hilly old centre. We
checked them all out and even added the spectacle of a bike race
featuring young boys and girls in the village of Dracy-St.
Loup a few km outside of Autun. The kids were all decked out in
the latest gear; they looked like they were in one of the time trials
on the Tour de France. The most surprising thing about the train ride
to Avallon was that SNCF personnel on the train actually assisted us
in loading and unloading our bikes. It's never happened before! The
15 km from Avallon to the hilltop village of Vézelay
(another of those 'Plus beaux villages de France') was a series of
long climbs and descents ending with a twisting 2 km climb to our
hotel (the Relais de Morvan) at dusk. Great meal.
Day 18 (71 km): It was another half kilometre up the
steep cobbled main street to the top of the village of
Vézelay. We had breakfast in the square beside the cathedral.
The cavernous church is sparsely decorated inside. The crypt was
especially simple and beautiful.
The main doors into the church are immense, each about 4 m wide by 7
m tall. This mediaeval village has many attractive buildings on
tiny little side streets. We had a hilly ride west (we're still in
the Morvan hills) through the Forêt de Champornot to
Clamercy with its fine mediaeval core. We carried on on this very
hot day (33 degrees - low 90's F) through mostly forested
countryside, past the impressive Chateau de Menou, to the
sleepy town of Donzy. There were two hotels; one in the centre
of the town which didn't open until 6 in the afternoon and another on
the outskirts. We chose the second. We wandered back into the village
to look around and find a spot for a cool drink. There were none! A
couple of bars which had been there were closed and for sale. We
finally found one out by our hotel. We went back into the hotel to
change and when we came out again the front door was locked and we
didn't have a key. We called out and knocked on some doors but there
was no one around. We finally escaped through a laundry room at the
back of the hotel. There were only two restaurants in town; one at
the other hotel (not too appealing) and the other across the street
from our hotel. We went in and were the only patrons. During a very
nice dinner I asked the woman if it was always this quiet on a
Monday. She told me it was like this every night! The town is dying.
We had trouble again getting back into the hotel but found the young
woman at the back who let us in. We were the only guests at the
hotel! The next morning we couldn't get into the garage where our
bikes were and we again couldn't find any staff around. Finally the
woman came in and we paid - no credit cards! And she didn't have
change for the cash we had. It would be interesting to visit Donzy in
five years to see if anyone still lives there! A weird experience!
Day 19 (81 km): This was a very hot day. By early
afternoon it was sunny and 35 degrees (mid 90's F)! We started out
through grain and sunflower fields but were soon in the great
vineyards of Pouilly-sur-Loire and we stopped in that little
town for breakfast. We had tried our first bottle of the famous wine
of the region (Pouilly Fumé) the night before.
This is what sauvignon blanc (pronounced ' so ving yoh*
blah* ' - with a little nasal ending where the asterisks appear) wine
should be! Only the New Zealanders seem to have been able to copy the
secret (although we have since found an Ontario wine from Creekside
Winery in the Niagara region which is just as good). We crossed the
Loire and continued through some forests and then into grain fields
all the way to Bourges. Just north of Bourges we passed
through some vineyards of the appelation Menetou Salon, one
I'd never heard of. We tried their sauvignon blanc a couple of
times in the next few days and found it matched those of nearby
Sancerre and Pouilly Fumé in style. I wondered
if I'd be able to find it here in Canada. (I did!) Another puncture -
same tire - that's three! I could see inside the tire where small
stones had worked their way through and were, over time, finally
scratching their way through the tube. The tire was a Michelin
folding tire that I had obtained from a friend. Some friend! When we
got into Bourges, I immediately stopped at a bike shop and bought
another tire, trashing the Michelin. We found a hotel and set out in
the blistering sun to see the sights. When he heard we were to be in
this region, one of my friends told me 'You have to see
Bourges!' He's mostly right - except don't see it on such a hot
day.
The cathedral St. Etienne is magnificent - on a par with Chartres
and Notre Dame. The height of the vaulted ceiling is unbelievable and
the stained glass is as beautiful as that at Chartres. And it's cool
inside! The palace of Jacques Coeur was also impressive. We ate at
the Hôtel Angleterre in a very old dining room with a waiter
that made me feel that I should have been wearing a jacket and tie. I
felt like asking Carol "What year is this?" because there was such a
forties feel about the place. Nice meal with a Beaujolais Villages -
Carol has discovered (to her great pleasure) Beaujolais wines!
Day 20 (83 km): We got a late start. Carol wanted to do a little shopping so it was almost 10 when we left Bourges. It was another scorcher, on its way to 35 again! The countryside around Bourges is all cereal crops - oats, wheat, barley and sunflowers. There are no hills, no shade. We had lunch in Chateauneuf-sur-Cher. Interesting church and big castle. We were headed for La Châtre near where the French novelist George Sand had lived. However, if I'd been paying more attention I would have noticed that Carol was 'bonking' and we should have taken an earlier opportunity to stop. Even with SPF 30 sunblock on, we were frying! She was in bad shape when we finally arrived in La Châtre. I found a hotel and got us settled into the room. Even after a cool bath, lots of water and other cold drinks she was still hot. It wasn't until evening that she began to feel better but wasn't up to having much dinner. Too bad because the restaurant La Jardin de la Poste beside the hotel had a serious chef and reasonable prices. Great meal - mine that is. Carol tried a salad and an omelette aux cèpes (wild mushrooms), both of which were excellent even though she couldn't finish. I had a half bottle of Menetou Salon which was splendid. I must find that wine here!
Day 21 (58 km): Our plans for today were much less
ambitious. It was cooler and breezy and now that we had left the
grain fields, there was more variety in the cycling. By mid-morning,
Carol was feeling better. We cycled west to the Creuse river,
stopping to see Gargilesse (another of the 'Plus beaux
villages de France' - Carol feels she must see them all). Gargilesse
claims a connection with George Sand as well - she had a 'retreat'
here that she escaped to.
We followed the river to Argenton-sur-Creuse. As is our
custom, we tried one of the local wines at dinner:
Reuilly. It was disappointing. I had a conversation
with a man at the next table who had visited Canada on business a few
times and knew the area where we live. He commented that he found it
odd that in Québec as one follows the Ottawa river towards
Ottawa, Canada's capital, there is no mention on highway signs that
you are approaching Ottawa, only Hull, the small city across the
river from Ottawa in Québec and in Ontario as one follows the
St. Lawrence river towards Montréal, there is no mention on
highway signs that you are approaching Montréal, only
Cornwall, the small city in Ontario near the Québec border. He
attributed that to the pettiness that exists between English Canada
and the separatist government in Québec. (He may be right!) I
commented that there are separatist movements in France as well - the
Basques, the Bretons, the Catalans, the Corsicans - but it's not a
serious thing. He replied that it's very different in Canada. He said
"Il y a une vraie frontière." (There is a true
border!) I hope he's wrong. I fear he's right!
Day 22 (75 km): We climbed steeply out of Argenton and headed southwest over a series of long climbs and descents. We were passed by dozens of huge empty gravel trucks - I guess there must be a quarry in that region. They're working on the extension of the A20 autoroute near Argenton. St. Benoit-du-Sault is yet another of the 'Plus beaux villages de France' with little streets and quaint buildings. Chateau Guillaume, north west of St. Benoit, is a well preserved and maintained 12th C fort / chateau (with 19th C renovations). I've developed a heat rash on the exposed parts of my arms and legs. It's starting to get itchy! We went to the Office du Tourisme in Le Blanc to see what accommodations were available. There was a limited selection but one that caught our attention - the Domaine de l'Etape, an old manor house (Carol likes to tell people it was a chateau) on a large estate about 7 km outside of Le Blanc, at a reasonable price. We headed out there, cleaned up and sat out under the trees watching the staff set up the terrace for dinner. Another serious chef! Excellent meal, one of the top three of the trip (two yet to come!) For the first time in my life, I sent a bottle of wine back! When the waitress uncorked it she looked rather dubiously at the end of the cork and the top of the bottle of Beaujolais Villages and asked me what I thought. She poured me a little and it did taste a little off. I figured at these prices, why take a chance, so I sent it back! Great day of cycling, great weather, great setting, great meal! God, I love this country!!
Day 23 (79 km): Angles-sur-l'Anglin is another of the 'Plus beaux villages de France' not too far from Le Blanc, so of course we had to head that way. En route we went to Fontgombault to see the 12th C Abbaye Notre Dame. As we were entering the church a young monk (Benedictine, I think) came up on a bicycle and called to us. He suggested that Carol was inappropriately dressed (in her non-spandex cycling shorts). She should have a skirt on if she wanted to enter the church. He was very nice about it. Carol dug into her pannier and came up with a long skirt that she pulled on over her shorts. Inside the church the monks were at mass - one of the seven times a day they must come to the church for some sort of devotion - and they were singing! It was very nice - I haven't heard Gregorian chant for many years and it did stir memories of my Catholic youth. Angles-sur-l'Anglin lived up to Carol's expectations. She spent an hour looking into every little corner of the village. I was less adventuresome. It was hot again and the rash was making me more irritable than I usually am. The route into Poitiers was fairly direct but the climb to the old centre of the town was steep with lots of traffic. Once settled into a hotel and refreshed we headed out to follow 'Le chemin de Notre Dame' which featured churches and other buildings dating from the 15th C. The Cathedral St. Pierre was cavernous (like Bourges) but the smaller church of Notre Dame La Grande was much more attractive (and was featured at a colourful evening lighting display). It was difficult to find a suitable restaurant (but we finally did). All in all, I was disappointed in Poitiers. I had such expectations. Maybe the rash dampened my enthusiasm. I did learn one thing in Poitiers. Every town of any size in France has a 'rue Gambetta'; Gambetta was the lone French hero of the Franco-Prussian war - I think he escaped a besieged Paris in a hot air balloon and raised an army or something. I learned that I (and everyone else I knew) had been mispronouncing his name - it's pronounced GOM-bet-AH, accenting the first and last syllables!
Day
24 (90 km): Ever since I replaced the tube in Bourges I
have had a very slow leak in my rear tire. About twice a day since
then I have had to pump it up to acceptable pressure. Every day I
have planned to extract the tube, locate the problem and fix it but
there has always been an impediment, usually forgetfulness. Today as
I pumped it up for about the tenth time the valve finally separated
from the tube, making repair impossible! There is no defense
against stupidity! We had a very hilly start to the day as
we headed south from Poitiers but after breakfast in Vivonnes
the hills became less vigorous. We're into August now and have
finally reached an area where the mûres (wild
blackberries or bramble berries which grow everywhere beside the
road) are ripe. The flavour is so intense! Because of the rash on my
arms and legs I have started to wear a long sleeved T-shirt and dress
knee socks to protect my skin despite the temperature in the low
30's. We stopped in Charroux, another of the 'Plus beaux
villages de France'. Great tower and covered market. We
found a hotel in Confolens on the Vienne river, a nice
little town with an old church and a great old bridge across the
river. It was very hot until after sunset.
Day 25 (56 km): The rain threatened through the morning, so much so that we decided to shorten our planned route and head more directly through forested areas and rolling hills to La Rochefoucauld. Besides the grand chateau for which the town is justly famous there is a fine old church with exceptional stained glass windows and elsewhere a beautiful cloister. I finally visited une pharmacienne who examined my rash and gave me an antihistamine to help relieve it. In France the pharmacy is like a walk-in medical clinic, the first stop for medical needs. Great dinner at the hotel La Vielle Auberge. (today's route)
Day 26 (41 km): It was raining when we got up. We packed up and sat for a bit in our room but it didn't let up. We dug out our little collapsible umbrella and walked into the town for breakfast then returned and waited a little longer until the rain finally stopped. Under threatening clouds, we cycled to Montbron where the rain started again as we climbed steeply into the town. We sheltered our bikes and went into a café for lunch. It was still raining when we left but it stopped after about five minutes. The ride along the Bandiat river was very pretty but about 4 km outside of Nontron it began to rain in earnest. I'm not used to this! In ten previous trips to France I've been rained on twice. This was twice in the same trip!! Someone will have to answer for this!! We were soaked through when we arrived in Nontron at the Grand Hôtel Pélisson. We had detoured to Nontron because of our experience there three years previous. On that occasion we had arrived in town with two other couples and found the hotel complet (full). Madame la patronne told us that the other hotel in town was also full and that our next possibility was about 20 km away! We must have looked devastated by this news because she said perhaps she could find something for us. Her son led us to their own family home a couple of km outside of town where they set us up in rooms B&B style. I'll always remember her saying "Vous êtes chez vous." (You're in your own house.) The sons remembered us from our previous visit and we had a pleasant 'reunion'. The meal that night was splendid and Madame Pélisson was the essence of grace, as she had been three years earlier.
Day 27 (85 km): We headed east on small hilly lanes in a very fine mist. As we followed along one very tiny road, we cycled past two young girls and a woman with a bemused look sitting on the steps outside her farmhouse. As I continued past the house I found myself in a barn yard. I sheepishly returned to the woman and found out where I had made the wrong turn. (This happened one other trip when we climbed a very steep hill to a couple who were standing beside a farmhouse at the top watching our progress. I asked him how far the road went. He said 'Juste ici!' (Right here.) Rewind!) By noon the skies had cleared. We turned north and had a series of long descents and climbs all the way into Limoges. It was a tough hilly day but very nice cycling. Carol took advantage of our early arrival to storm the many porcelain shops in the city - there's apparently a lot of Limoges porcelain in Limoges. Who would have guessed?
Day 28 (69 km): Our last day of cycling! We left our
panniers at the hotel in Limoges and headed out to the west to see a
town that one MUST see if in the area.
On the 10th of June, 1944, the German SS Das Reich division was
rushing north to reinforce the forces on the Normandy coast who were
battling the Allies after the D-day landings. Having been harassed by
saboteurs, the commander of one battalion decided to carry out
reprisals, choosing the town of Oradour-sur-Glane. The town
was surrounded and the populace was rounded up. The women and
children were herded into the church and the men into 5 barns and
garages. The men were all shot. The soldiers then went building to
building setting them ablaze, including the church, killing
all but one of the women and children within! In all, 648 people were
horribly murdered! The town has remained essentially untouched
since that day! Burned out hulks of cars still sit in roofless
garages. Bicycle frames and sewing machines are visible in the rubble
within the buildings. In the cemetery, tombstones display photos of
many of the victims, aged from infants to people in their 80's, all
with the same date of death! It's a chilling experience! It seems
every age has its Barbarians.
We returned to Limoges and went to the station to confirm that the train we had found on that very useful web site was indeed still scheduled. It was! The Limoges-Benedictines station is a magnificent building. Often the stations, built a hundred years ago, are the grandest buildings in these cities. We had a marvelous meal at the restaurant Les Garrigues in the vielle ville near the tiny beautiful Chapelle St. Aurélien.
Day
29: We packed all our stuff and left it in the hotel garage with
the bikes. One last little tour, including the impressive Cathedral
St. Etienne; one last little sprint through the porcelain shops. We
lunched in a nice park near the hotel then off to the station for the
four hour trip to Paris. We arrived at Gare Austerlitz and
cycled the few blocks to the Hotel Slavia on Blvd St. Marcel, a nice
hotel we've stayed at a couple of times before. Peter and Heather
were already there with our four other friends - they had arrived the
previous day. It was a fun reunion and meal that evening.
Day 30: After breakfast everybody split to do their own things. It was the first time in Paris for some of them. I'd been there seven times already so I didn't feel the urgency to see it all again. Sights were seen; shopping was done; I even shopped - picked up a couple of bottles of Pécharmant, a fine red wine from the Périgord unheard of in Canada. We struggled about where to eat that night but happily ended up at the restaurant La RéCréative on Blvd du Port Royal, a few blocks from our hotel. It has a young female chef with imagination and style - an outstanding meal!
Day 31: After breakfast we began the caravan across Paris to Gare du Nord to take the RER train out to Charles de Gaulle airport. Fortunately it was Sunday. (We've done it weekdays - it's wild!) With eight of us in the group and many traffic lights I felt like I was pulling a 'slinky'. Once we managed to get out of the train station at the airport (no easy task), we had a scary ride on a busy multi-lane road to our charter flight at Terminal T9. Uneventful flight home but sad to leave. It was Carol's longest tour to date, almost 1800 km, and, next to the trip we did in 1993 in the Massif Central and the Pyrénées, our favorite trip so far!
(Answer to the trivia question: The ten Beaujolais cru's are: Côte de Brouilly, Brouilly, Regnié, Chiroubles, Morgon, Moulin à Vent, Chénas, Fleurie, Juliénas and St. Amour. The most recently included is Regnié.)
