When Anne broke her right arm in early March the planning for our 2017 tandem tour became complicated. Doctors rubbed their chins and said things like 'well, yes, you probably would be able to ride a bike in 10 weeks or so, if all goes well, and if it's not too difficult, but we'll see you just before you go, anyway'. Should we just cancel, or what?
Despite the immediate pain of the broken arm, we took the optimistic option, but building in fall back plans. Pack the bike, keep the cycling itinerary as flexible as possible. We'd planned in two weeks of Spanish language class and that could always be turned into 6 or 7 weeks, for example. Or cycling days could just be minimised and shortened. Pity there would be no actual time for training before we left. But regular visits to the physio and diligently following her advice, helped.
Coming packing day little grandson Finn was on hand to help. Not yet two he has a real fascination for bicycles and was quite astonished to see the big tandem disintegrating before his eyes and was keen to help fit the pieces into the suitcases (58 kg across the two).
Long flight to Europe always horrible, but the new direct Canberra-Singapore flight helped and we checked straight into the transit hotel for a sleep in a proper bed during the 17 hour stopover.
In the past in Paris we've manoeuvred our heavy suitcases, plus hand luggage, through the Metro. This time Anne's broken arm was a perfect reason to take a taxi to our destination. Then a couple of days catching up with our friends of many years - the ones who advised us on the route for our first trip in 1983 and still give us inspiration for further destinations. With a bit of repacking we manage to leave one of the suitcases in Paris, moving half the tandem into a bike bag to take onto the train. Also got SIM cards from Orange so as to have mobile phones for the next 8 weeks: took 2 trips and a very extended discussion to get both phone and internet working. Bloody technology!
OK, now ready to start a holiday.
An early morning start to be at Gare Montparnasse for our 9.30 TGV to Bordeaux. Just 3 1/4 hours, but this time next year it will be an hour less, when a new section of high speed track comes into service. Not bad for nearly 600 km.
Reassembly of the bike took place in our IBIS hotel by the railway station, the assistance of little grandson Finn sorely missed! Tragedy struck when one of the bolts for tightening the frame snapped but to our great relief, Holland Bikes Bordeaux, just around the corner, was able to do the fix, between 6&7 pm. So enough time for a test ride up along the banks of the Garonne, on the terrific bike path through the city centre. Bike okay; Anne's arm: that remains to be seen......
Tuesday a non-cycling day, and when the attacks in Manchester were reported. Also the day when my need for a haircut became desperate and I wandered into a barber shop in one of the 'north African' streets. It lead to a fascinating and eye-opening conversation with the young guy cutting my hair. After I mentioned the Manchester events he immediately responded with reference to the hundreds of civilians, women, children, babies, killed in Syria through the allied coalition bombings, and our conversation blossomed from there. He became quite agitated, pulling up examples on his phone of numerous atrocities, around the world, perpetrated on Moslems by 'Americans and Israelis' or people they supported. He railed against how none of these things were reported by the 'dishonest media' but seemed very surprised I could add details from my own readings. For the Charlie Hebdo and Bataclan events, he quoted me various conspiracy theories about 'what had really happened', again referring to pictures on his phone, and accompanying text, mostly in arabic. I couldn't help thinking how similar it all was to the Trump, or to the Pauline Hanson, or the Marine Le Pen, view of the world, just reflected in a mirror. The wonders of 'social media'.
My barber's colleague became a little concerned that my friend was speaking a little bit too freely, and tried to caution him, but we ended up joking about internal security spies from Australia (where exactly is it, anyway?) - an obviously absurd notion! In the end we parted on good terms, shaking hands and agreeing it had been a good debate. But an encounter that is going to stick in my head for a long time.
Baptism of fire! We knew this day would be tough. Not hilly, but the expected 93 km was still a bit long for a first day, especially when just ten weeks since Anne had broken her wrist, and thus first time on a bike in 3 months! Lack of accommodation options meant no chance to shorten the stage (we thought).
In practice the day was a killer. A burst of hot weather, to 37 deg, and very little shade, and with a few wrong turns plus route modifications to pick up more cycle paths, we ended up doing 109 km and arriving at 7pm, fairly sore and limp. Grumpy, even.
Under other circumstances the ride could have been quite enjoyable. Exiting Bordeaux, like any city, mildly confusing, but then some nice vineyard areas, and some superb, wide, bitumened, ex railway line, cycle paths. Then into the area of 'les Landes'. Until the early 1800’s a huge area (10,000 sq km) of sand dunes cum moors or marshland, and a bit of grazing, but since then turned over to endless plantations of maritime pine (about as interesting as our familiar pinus radiata!), and just the odd scattering of natural, mixed forest. Extensive runs of ex railway lines are now excellent bike paths, just not very interesting - few signs of habitation, and scarcely any cyclists other than the odd enthusiast out for a long training ride. Lots of our route had been recently logged or else recently replanted, so no shade - perhaps thanks to 2009 storms that damaged 30% of the forested area.
With our picnic supplies from Bordeaux we found a fantastic, forested spot at the lake near Hostens, even a swimming beach (appreciated by school camp groups). And learnt of B&B options in the area that would have changed our pre-planning and shortened our first day. Bird life quite minimal, a couple of deer (including a tiny bambi, size of a chihuahua, staggering across the path, chasing its mother) and lots of skinks scattering off the bitumen.
After so many hours in the heat Declan's derrière was losing a war with his new Sella Italia saddle, while Anne's was in double trouble: twisting a little to protect her right wrist on the handle bar caused an extra chafing on her thigh, added to the inevitable discomfort of a first ride in 3 months.
Gosh, it was great to finally check into the Parentis hotel!
Today our route joined the official 8,000 km EuroVelo 1 bike trail that descends the Atlantic coast from Norway towards Portugal. The 1200 km in France are marketed as the Vélodyssée.
In the morning we picked up our picnic supplies in the market that materialised in the street outside our hotel, an aspect of French life that constantly charms us. About 8km out of town, on the excellent cycle path, horror of horrors, where was the cycle computer? Must have jumped off on a bump. Could we survive a few days without knowing our speed and distance? Definitely not. About turn. Happily it was only a couple of km back, just visible to our searching eyes.
But as the day wore on even these few extra km were regretted. Hot again, up to 36. We're still in the Landes pine plantations which go right up to the dunes of the Atlantic beaches (erosion protection). The settlements are all focussed on beach and sand holidays and well back from the sea. The bike path itself is super, in the pines behind the dunes, probably built as a recreation facility for the holiday campers, but still short on shade and even places to fill water bottles. What for Anne had been chafing yesterday turned into full blown saddle sore, with broken skin. Ouch.
Our best find of the day was a holiday camp near St-Giron, in the pine trees just off the path, in the peak heat, about 20 km before our destination. Lots of simple cabins with rear decks, obviously too early in the season to have many holiday makers. What a fabulous spot for a clandestine siesta stretched flat out on the shaded deck. Lifesaving shut eye.
Lac de Leon a delightful place to finish up. Freshwater lake, suitable for swimming, nice simple hotel, a good bistro. Leafy trees - not (all) pines.
Day started well with some picture taking around the photogenic shores of Lac de Leon, but then it was time to lift tender derrières once more onto their saddles.
Hot again, only lower thirties though. About half way thru the day we were relieved to find that the pine plantations of the Landes were NOT endless and there are townships not 100% devoted to sea and sand. A nice little neighbourhood park in Cap Breton for our picnic, including taps to refill water bottles! Luxury. Late in the day we caught our first glimpse of the beaches on the Atlantic Ocean, at Tarnos Beach. Long and sandy with big waves: in Australia it would probably have carried a sexy name like Seventy Mile Beach, but had no people.
Then a turn inland along the Adour river to our destination, Bayonne. Easy to know it's the capital of the French basque region as suddenly many of the signs are in both basque and French languages. Not to mention basque flags and the distinctive crosses in all the souvenir shops.
It's a very pretty city, lots of half timbered houses, well restored, cobbled streets in the old town and a charming swarm of waterside restaurants. We signed up at the Tourist Bureau for a city walking tour. Though in French we were congratulating ourselves on how well we understood the guide (50% is usually an ambitious target). When he turned to us, in English, towards the end we learned that he was a kiwi, once a journalist, but living in Bayonne with his French wife, for over 30 years, working in tourism and keenly interested in history. Anyway it was a supremely interesting tour of Bayonne's long, long history. And the basque influence on maritime history around the globe was a real insight. Not to mention chocolate; and the home of the bayonet (1641).
This is our last day of cycling before we start two weeks of beginner Spanish in San Sebastián, and temperatures are dropping. A predicted 27 deg will not make it above 22 deg. And it was a day off the bike yesterday. All of these things are crucially important for those of us with painful derrières and recently broken wrists that have been severely challenged since leaving Bordeaux.
Our route took us along the coast to the Spanish border. At this point EuroVelos 1 & 3 have combined, though still the Vélodyssée logo prevails. There is much beautiful coastal scenery, which of course means undulating terrain. In the centre there is Biarritz, incredibly chic during the 19th century and into the 20th with many beautiful mansions. Nowadays beaches and surfing are also a focus, up and down the coast, and there are many highly built up areas. So the cycling experience is a bit like going through Sydney's wealthy eastern suburbs: up and down, easy to get lost, fabulous villas, beautiful glimpses, traffic, a fair share of ugly concrete carbuncles.
The border crossing to Spain is a simple river crossing on a bridge. Nearby there is an older bridge featuring the redundant paraphernalia of a customs control and marked on our maps as a cycle path. But it is closed for renovations and tricky to get back onto the main road. And that's the end of the Vélodyssée, the French part of EuroVelo 1.
Irun is on the Spanish side of the border. It's even more obviously basque here - the area is officially bilingual. For our 20 km hop to San Sebastián we combined the main, main road GI-636 and the lesser main road, GI-2638, both busy but with wide stopping lanes that made the riding safe and fast, though noisy. And it's quite undulating. Coming into San Sebastián we picked up great city cycling paths - the city has superimposed a wonderful network, clearly delineated from car lanes with physical barriers. It looks as though they have not been scared to suppress car lanes as required to make it all work. Must have had some planners from the Netherlands assisting.
Final challenge for the day: our landlady hosting us for the next two weeks has kindly let us store the tandem in her lounge. She's up 8 floors and the bike doesn't fit in the lift. So here we go, up the stairs.......
Hola! Here doing beginner Spanish. Hard work. Very nice town. Not planning to write much on blog. Saturday visit to Bilbao to see Guggenheim Museum. Other than that photos can speak for themselves.
Being back on the bike seems comparatively easy after 2 weeks of beginner Spanish! Plus we are retracing our steps along the EV 1, so all the twists and turns seems familiar. The 2 week break was enough to put the saddle soreness behind us (so to speak), so this time we appreciated the views of the Atlantic as we rode along the cliff top road.
We are spending 2 nights in St Jean de Luz, which is a charming town, a blend of traditional basque maritime heritage and a lively coastal resort of manageable size. Surprisingly long history, for example where in 1660 Louis IV (the 'sun king', Versailles, Canal du Midi, longest reigning monarch in European history, etc, etc) married his cousin Marie-Therese, of Spain, as part of the treaty that resolved 30 years of war between the two countries. The church is still there, conveniently close to the Place Louis IV outside the town hall.
Today we took a long walk along the coastal track north of here, great views of the wild Atlantic, a Botanic Garden, and a top little casual restaurant for a lunchtime bite.
The first round of the French parliamentary elections also occurred today and Declan was especially keen to see how it all happened on the ground. Around the town hall polling station it was hard (for an Aussie) to notice the national elections were in progress - no supporters handing out how-to-votes, no sausage sizzles. Just a big numbered board around the corner with one poster per candidate, 13 in all. Inside, the voters just pick one of the 13 different slips of paper from the official's desk and put it in their envelope. Done. Closes at 6pm, counting all done in the hour. National results about 8pm. Top 2 candidates here are Vincent Bru, the Macron candidate, 38%, and a Republicain candidate, 16%. They'll be in a run off election next Sunday. Voters who couldn't be bothered voting: 43%.
The real action was outside the town hall, in Place Louis IV, where a Basque music and dancing festival was in full swing. Very colourfully costumed performers gave numerous different displays of traditional Basque dances to a very appreciative crowd, many seated outside the surrounding bars.
When the French talk of the Basque coast they mean from the mouth of the Adour River down to the Spanish border, and it's a mixture of steep cliffs and lovely (surf) beaches with Atlantic waves rolling in, and a hinterland of the Pyrenees. And half the population of France there in cars and on foot to enjoy it, so it's hectic. Leaving St Jean de Luz on Monday we were refreshed enough to enjoy the views and the steep inclines and ignore the encumbrances as we retraced our route up the coast. Passing through famous, hectic Biarritz we were pleased not to have chosen it for our stopover. This time round it seemed easy to spot the Vélodyssée signs and stay on the cycle route.
Once at the head of the Adour the route by the river is easy and well signed, taking us back to Bayonne, but this time continuing on upriver, another 20 km or so to our destination of Urt. On a main road, but not too busy.
Urt a small-ish place of 1000 inhabitants, just above the Adour River, our hotel on the Place du Marché. Just a nice little village, modern enough, a 'mediateque' in place of its 'biblioteque' (library), for example, but scratch and its history goes back to before 1200, at which time the Adour was already a transport route and Urt an active port. At the hotel our meal was lovely, eaten under the ruthlessly pruned shady plane trees facing the Place du Marché (where markets are Wed morning).
On Tuesday we continued upstream on the Adour to Dax. Just this last year or so the cycling infrastructure has been given a massive upgrade. The old tow path route by the river is now a beautiful wide cycle path, well signed with the EV 3, Scandiberique, logo. So for more than half of today's travels we were rolling along in the calm, mostly under old shady, green, trees, with a view of the river, and free of traffic. There is a sprinkling of info panels along the way that detail the centuries of river transport, agriculture and other activities that have occurred over the centuries. We were particularly taken with the flood control activities of the 1600's when they engaged Dutch experts to assist!
Spotted a few storks nesting on high platforms in fields or even above railway lines, also feeding in fields or ponds. A few snakes also, mostly squashed on the road, but one wriggling.
And so to Dax, also on the Adour, 21,000 inhabitants. History back to Roman times, but not immediately appealing. We did an evening walk around the town centre, coming across excellent photographic displays from 20 famous photographers, in large format prints, in front of the more significant buildings or open spaces.
Off further upstream on the Adour tomorrow.
Most of our travelling these 3 days has been on a 'greenway', along an old railway line, the 'Voie Verte du Marsan et l'Armagnac'. This one is well established, well over a decade old, with good signposting, terrific shade,and all the old railway station buildings are still intact, though sold off, mostly as private homes. The main drawback is the surface which is often just gravel strips through grass, so quite heavy going. It's reserved for horses, bikes and walkers, so I guess the horse riders like it the way it is.
In St Sever we lucked out with a beautiful B&B that also served us dinner. One of those huge houses built around the 1790's, surrounded by a beautiful garden, run on organic principles, chooks, vegetables, lots of flowers. And just across the road the 'historic centre of the village'. Its abbey building is on the UNESCO world heritage list, a Norman style building, dating back to the 1050’s, and now a stop on the Camino trail. But the astonishing part is how it's been dissected by the French Revolution: all confiscated, then only the actual church handed back, the rest, cloisters and all, part of the town hall complex, or just small shops. Haphazard brickwork everywhere. A nearby monastery building is even more 'wrecked' never returned to religious use, but roughly adapted for 'miscellaneous' activities needing a big space: on Wed night one of the parliamentary candidates was holding a public meeting, with the Emmanuel Macron candidate scheduled for Thursday night.
For Th & Fri nights we booked into a B&B on a vineyard producing Armagnac, a few km from Labastide d'Armagnac. Similarly impressive to the previous night's accommodation For Friday we've been able to do a circuit in the area without hauling our luggage - luxury. Got almost to the end of the Voie Verte, and returned via the tiny chapel, Notre Dame des Cyclistes. A real church though mass only celebrated rarely, but the inside a veritable museum with hundreds of cyclist jerseys, and a few old bikes, eg WW I French army folding bikes, and a 1930's tandem. This year's Tour de France will pass by for stage 11 on July 12: the fifth time the Tour has come by.
The agricultural view of these three days has been of fields of corn or sunflowers - all ready for those great shots for TV coverage of the Tour. We are in prime territory for Foie Gras production but there was a recent avian flu problem outbreak and all ducks were destroyed in January, with restocking of day olds only authorised from May. Many producers have gone out of business.
Saturday had a predicted 37 deg temperature and we set off for Bazas with accommodation unconfirmed and unclear where we’d get anything to eat. This part of the Landes is very sparsely inhabited, mostly pine plantation again. One place we thought we might have got some food supplies told us the nearest boulangerie was 20 km back down the road. In our hour of need we came upon the Auberge Gasconne at Goulade with its 14 euro, 4 course, wine & coffee included, menu du jour - the throng of locals evidence we had found what we needed. And while eating we sorted a B&B in Bazas, in a rambling 1750’s chateau.
Bazas is home to a major cathedral, dating from the 11th century, UNESCO listed, on the Camino route, and dominating the town square (full of untidy car parking) in front. At the other end of the square is another church, this one parcelled up at the Revolution and sold off in 3 parts, so its origins only barely recognisable amongst the ramshackle adaptions. Also in the square is the town hall, signage ready for the second round of the parliamentary elections on the Sunday.
Breakfast Sunday morning around the communal table included extended discussion about elections and also with the owners about their decade long endeavours to revive the neglected ‘chateau’ they had bought.
After a tour of the town it was late and very hot by the time we got on the road.
La Tuilerie at Noillac is a lovely B&B, dinner included, in renovated farm buildings that we happened upon when cycling the Garonne canal in 2013. Though a short ride to get there on Sunday there were a few hill challenges, a road block to overcome, and a final steep drive of inordinate length. So the pool was very welcome!
Time for strategic thinking! This heatwave is serious: high 30’s through till Thursday. Decision: stay put! Luckily Alison could accommodate us an extra night so we took the opportunity of a recovery day in the shade and to make bookings several days ahead, minimising riding in the heat.
PS With the French election results finalised it was interesting to check the results for the three seats where we had seen election activity: in all cases the Macron candidate won, but with surprisingly small margins, just a few %. With a national abstention rate over 50%, there must be plenty of questions about what may come to pass in the next few years.
Tuesday, Wednesday & Thursday are the last of this dreadful heatwave and our strategy is two days of early starts to reach the destination by midday, and then a cycle free day.
Tuesday found us in St Pardoux d’Isaac, home of Jeannette, who we first visited in 1983. Renowned for her hospitality and good cooking, we found ourselves regaled with rabbit and duck and other fine foods, and still some left over to take a picnic on the road with us. Always a delight to catch up with such long term friends.
Wednesday’s destination was a B&B in a small village, south of St Emilion (where prices go through the roof), and roughly back on our intended route. Interesting dwelling because like so many such houses opening directly onto main village roads it’s quite uninspiring, hostile even: doors and windows completely shuttered, blank rendered or stone walls. Yet inside, a different story. The front facade is of a 1700’s building and behind that 1500’s. Starting from a couple of barely habitable rooms in otherwise abandoned storage and barn space, Madame has had the place gutted and renovated to make a beautiful house, still preserving the thick stone walls and many of the original building materials. And with a temperature of 39 deg after our arrival, shutters make absolute sense, as do the double glazed windows.
For our non-cycling Thursday, Madame generously volunteered to drop us into St Emilion and collect us later in the day, an offer we gratefully accepted. A beautiful small village on a hill, its fortune built on religion and wine. We walked the site’s monuments in the morning and joined the guided tour of the underground ‘monolithic church’, of cathedral proportions, carved out of the rock, in the afternoon: now in private hands, of course, ‘privatised’ by the Revolution. In the excellent, informative wine centre we spotted wines at 1100 euros (& others less than 10).
As of Friday temperatures have dropped ten degrees and more. Blessed relief! On Friday we started off for a while on the excellent ‘Roger Lapebie’ bike path (RL won the 1937 TdF using, to the disgust of other riders, a derailleur; in 1938 all riders used derailleurs!). Turning north we skirted hill top St Emilion, staying on the flat and passing through the Pomerol wine area, each domaine with its (relatively) impressive chateau.
From then on we could say the riding has been nice, quiet roads and, on Saturday, about 30 km of well finished voie verte on the old rail line, through sunflower, corn or hayfields, where it is not vineyards. There is a pattern to the villages, a certain charm, but little commerce (eg boulangerie), though a fine old church. This will be typically about 11th century, built on remains of a prior church, badly damaged, or destroyed, in the Hundred Years' War (1337-1453), and/or the Wars of Religion (1562-1598), had various rebuilds or additions, some restorations, and now be a national monument. Passing several a day it's easy to be blase, yet they are still worth poking one’s head inside.
As a town, Guitres was dead as dead, lucky to get a bite to eat at our truck stop hotel where evening business was virtually non-existant. But the conversation with the owner was interesting: 20 years a teacher of French in Moldavia, now married to a French guy, and trying to build a new life as a migrant.
Barbezieux-St Hilaire redeemed by again finding a comfortable B&B in a quirky old house. Still surprisingly dead for a Saturday night.
Cognac was really interesting. A very informative cognac museum - but we were most struck by the story of the invention of automated bottle manufacture around 1900; previously glass blowers had a life expectancy of about 45 years. The fierce competition amongst the various prestige Cognac houses is to be seen everywhere. Cognac also the place where was born in 1494 the future François 1 (he married the daughter of the king), and he is commemorated throughout the town.
Monday was very pleasant easy cycling on a well posted cycle route upstream along the Charente River (which gives its name to the whole department, and was a vital transport route back in the day). And another rambling, quirky, likeable B&B at the end of the day. Also the day when we completed our first 1000 km of the trip!!!!!!!!
Monday was also our first properly wet day of the trip, with forecasts worsening over the next few days, so we took plotted and researched the next few days accommodation allowing us to hide indoors if necessary, and still make it to Oradour-sur-Glane, and get back onto our main route.
Angouleme’s immediate attraction is the number of murals through the old town sitting on top of the hill behind the remparts. The town has a museum of ‘bande dessine’ (which we didn’t have time to see) and these cartoon figures are the basis of the murals.
On Tuesday we headed out of the valley of the Charente to Exideuil along the Vienne river (which river we will be following towards the Loire over several days). Rain threatened all day and a huge deluge finally started as we passed a sports field with a very convenient shelter. We shared the space with some woodcutters interrupted in their cutting down a small plantation of poplars and had quite a sociable half hour till the storm blew over. These plantations are planted by local communes and get harvested every 25 years or so. The main trunks go into the plywood industry, where they get ‘peeled like a roll of toilet paper’, but one of the uses of this ‘peel’ is to make the boxes that wrap cheeses, such as the Camembert cheeses in so many supermarkets.
Our B&B for two nights is owned by an English couple. He is a plumber and most of his work comes from the very large number of English people who have settled in this area. We gathered that Brexit & the pound sterling exchange rates are concerns for this enclave, many of them retirees.
After heavy rain all night we set off during a break in the weather on Wednesday morning to get to Oradour-sur-Glane. Without trailer or panniers we seemed to fly up hills, of which there were many.
Oradour-sur-Glane is a memorial village. Four days after D-day, on 10 June 1944, 200 german troops came to the village, rounded up 642 villagers for an ‘identity check’, herded the 198 women and children into the church, and the men into various barns. Then all were shot and the whole village incinerated. Six men escaped from a barn and two children survived in the church. The village, cemetery and all, is now preserved exactly as it was left, and visitors are asked to maintain a respectful silence. It’s very moving. Entry is through an interpretive centre (which we didn’t have time to visit, fearing the weather) built into the hill. We noticed that President Macron had come to place a plaque, on 10 June this year, so just after his inauguration.
All morning we had dodged black rain clouds but on the way back to Exideuil we were caught twice in fierce storms. The first we sat out in a convenient barn (& read the Canberra Times on our iPads). For the second we sheltered under a verandah near a church, along with a local cyclist heading out for a training ride, and learnt that there was still a single survivor of the OsG massacre living in the area, the other having recently died.
And so back to safe Exideuil, relatively dry, ready to venture out to eat at the local cafe, where most of the clients seemed to be English - quite a British enclave around the area.
One significant concern for today is the discovery that the flange on our back axle has started to fracture. Two spokes are dangling uselessly where the flange has broken. The Shimano Capreo hub is not something easily replaced, so we are just going to cross fingers and hope for the best.
These last few days have been planned around the predicted string of rainy days; the stops, like Exideuil, are on the Vienne river, and all in B&B’s.
Thursday was just a short, wet hop to Confolens and our nice landlady was kind enough to let us in at midday. We’d booked three nights simply to be out of the rain, have some R&R, and plan through to the end of our trip. As for our accommodation, we really lucked out, a lovely old house, facing directly on to the river, between the Pont Vieux (1300’s) and the Pont Neuf, and a balcony off our room directly over the water. Very restful watching the rain fall on the river for all of Saturday. Nice old town, but limited eating options. Quantity, especially plenty of chips, gives way to quality, it seems; and English clients seem to keep the places open. Flags on the bridges, from many countries (NZ, not Aus), signify August’s international folk lore festival, in its 60 th year.
No sun on Saturday yet it was clear enough to risk a refreshing cycle circuit to some nearby villages (with churches, of course!). Fortuitously, we came across a restaurant deemed to be the best in the area, L’Estamet, and enjoyed an excellent lunch. And the other handful of patrons: all English. From our landlady we learned the owners are young people from the region, working in the restaurant business in Paris at the time of the Bataclan shootings, celebrating a birthday nearby at the time, but losing friends to the shooters.
Sunday and Monday have both been nice cool cycling conditions under mostly grey sky, just enough rain to trick one into digging out a rain jacket for the odd ten minutes. Quiet roads undulating through the Vienne valley, more corn, sunflower, wheat; occasional huge piles of cow manure indicating cows kept in huge barns; occasional enormous sheds with the roofs covered in solar panels; a nuclear power station at Civaux, just across the road from a scary fun park called ‘Planète des crocodiles’. Still tricky to get an evening meal: Sunday a pizza, Monday a couple of slices of quiche grabbed from a boulangerie about to close.
Just two more days of cycling till we get to Tours and pack up the bike.
Our final two days of riding passed smoothly enough. We left the Vienne Valley (which will join the Loire some way downstream from Tours). Late Tuesday afternoon we happened by the "Maison de la Memoire" at a small village called Maillé, and were drawn into a museum commemorating another WW II massacre of civilians (124), this one on 25 August 1944, the same day French forces rolled in to liberate Paris. Interesting documentary made recently (2004?) interviewing survivors. Stifling 38 degrees when we emerged and the last 10 km to St-Maure-de-Touraine was tough.
Another beautiful B&B in SMdT, this one called La Chuchoterie (‘whispering’, bizarrely, as the owner had the loudest speaking voice imaginable). Very old building, once a full service, go to woe, paddock to plate, butchery, lovingly repurposed by the new owners of ten years. Ate with the owners and had lively discussion on state of the world. At breakfast we got to try St-Maure-de-Touraine cheese, a goat cheese with a special characteristic of a piece of straw through the centre to ‘oxygenate’ it.
Wednesday, the final stage, taking us down to the Cher and Loire rivers. No dedicated bike paths, just quiet roads, but the signposting for the cycle route is suddenly superb: no ambiguous intersections, and a steady countdown of distance to Tours. We are into the “Loire à velo” area which has been actively promoted and improved for over 20 years and where cycle tourism is a recognised business.
Arrival into Tours for three nights at our convenient hotel by the railway station and tourist office, Hotel Val de Loire. One last challenge: to convince the manager that our tandem was indeed small enough to be lifted into the courtyard, and need not be locked up on the street. Tick.
Summary: despite all our initial doubts about the effect of Anne’s broken arm, and the further doubts when we discovered the cracked hub on the back wheel, we have completed our trip. Almost 1450 km - pity it’s not a round 1500km!
A little further upriver from Tours there is a Chateau Chaumont which each year in its extensive grounds hosts an international garden festival. There is a competition amongst professional landscaping firms to obtain one of the 30 allocated spaces of about 150-200 sq metres. About 300 applications are received each year, and the ‘winners’ have to prepare their spaces so that they will look pleasing from spring to autumn, over six months, a major challenge.
We have been here once before (by car) and it was our objective for this year. At 50-ish km from Tours it’s too far for a one day cycling round trip, so we were resigned to going there by bus or train. HOWEVER, while buying our rail tickets for Tours-Paris, we picked up a rail leaflet boasting that for the summer period all the Loire Region trains will carry bikes for free, INCLUDING tandems to 2.4m. And so, the perfect plan: we’ll take the tandem and the train there and cycle home. We’ll get our total cycling distance up to a nice round 1500 km, and besides the train times are not all that convenient for the return, and it’s 2.5km from station to Chateau.
Getting on the train at Tours was not simple: the train conductor was adamant that tandems were not allowed. We didn’t actually have the leaflet, but still quoted it authoritatively, and finally were let onto the train in a different compartment.
Good visit to the Garden Festival - lots to marvel at, some to wonder about.
Hot return, high 30’s, sometimes nice cycle path by the river, other times up the slopes and through the vineyards, but all well sign posted. Finally back at Tours, we felt we had earned our right to boast about reaching 1500 km. We celebrated by adding a glass of Loire Valley bubbly to our evening dinner menu.
Friday’s priority task was dismantling the tandem and shoehorning the pieces into one suitcase and one bike bag (for subsequent transfer to the second suitcase). That done we were free to wander as tourists in a town with much to admire.
Tours has a cathedral which is quite stunning, light and soaring inside. By day, beautiful outside, and during summer evenings animated by a half hour sound and light show on its facade starting at dark (ie at 10.45 pm). We booked into a tourist office evening walking tour which passed many of the important buildings, enhanced by illumination. A lot of Tours’ religious importance is built around St Martin (317-397), and this year there are many references around the town to his 1700th birthday, a bathing of many buildings in red light being one of them.
Declan went to see the quite small Musée du Compagnonnage which focuses on the Compagnons, or members of artisans' guilds/social clubs, that have existed in France since the 1300's or so. Sort of fore-runners of modern day unions, but not exactly. Appropriate for us to visit after spending so many weeks viewing the work of such craftsmen over the centuries. The museum features the "masterpieces" of the various artisans' guilds, including some that no longer exist (eg wheelrights, tanners), and some information on the history and rituals of the guilds.
We eat in a square nicknamed ‘Place des Monstres’ for reasons that will be evident if you look at our photos.
And thus we finished our cycling holiday. Just a train to Paris and two nights with our friends there, and then it’s the long flight home.