Dark skies France.
Turns out the area we are travelling through has the least light pollution in France. Which means the stars are clearly visible. Except that with 10/10 cloud cover most nights, (as well as days), they aren't.
We voted ourselves an extra day in camp at Figeac. Time to catchup with bike maintenance and laundry tasks. This cycle-touring malarky isn't always glamorous and exciting, you know. And then its off up hill into les Causses de Grammat - that's the darkest part - and a night of camping a la ferme: dry composting toilet, but an undercover seating area, before pushing on to the Dordogne via Souilac near where we bedded down on the very river bank.
Our route then took us to Sarlat-le-Caneda where, as well as eventually finding a new tyre of the right sort we also found our most expensive campsite and an unscheduled rest day t.o allow a day of heavy rain to pass overhead.
All these rest days meant we were now a bit behind schedule. So breaking away from the route in the guide book we hot-footed to Hautefort from where we travelled north along the valley of the Vienne to arrive at Confolens on 25th May.Confolens provided the opportunity to sample local fare in the form of authentic English fish and chips, with mushy peas. Oh, and a pitchet of rose.
This being the Charantes there was other evidence of Brits abroad - including an overheard conversation in a bar between an estate agent and potential clients. Seems the Brits may still be coming. But we're not. Instead we are off north to reach the Loire just to the east of Saumur and just in time to enjoy the longest wet spell of the trip so far: 15 hours non-stop rain, of which 5 spent in the saddle. All part of cycle-touring says Debs. That may be, but it doesn't mean I have to like it, says I.
We rejoin the guide book route at Challones where we cross the Loire and head resolutely north for Normandy. We've calculated that we need to average 60km a day if we want to get to UK in early June. We've also discovered that the ferry from St Malo does not go to Plymouth, only to Portsmouth. So unless we want to extend the French leg to Roscoff, that puts the kybosh on the tour of SW England.
Having sacked the tripplanner for this incompetence we head for St Malo. We meet a few other Brit cyclists. At one obscure camping municipal 5 of us arrive within half hour of eachother. Bit like buses.
For the southbound voyagers its happy days as the northerly winds of the last few days pick up overnight to waft them to their destination. Not so us and we have a long day head down following an uncomfortably busy D road to reach Vitre on the last day of May.
Flaming June its not when we reach Combourg in Brittany. This is cider country so we make a point of varying the grape-based diet a bit. And jolly good they are too. Unfortunately the unrelenting grey skies of these days means we are not getting the best of the paysage. But the upside (or should that be silver lining?) is that we allow ourselves to sample a few more menus du jour than we might have done otherwise. And jolly good they are too.
And so to St Malo. Arriving mid-afternoon we check into our AirBnB apartment, in time to get the laundry done before heading out for cider, galettes, crepes and Calvados. Well, seems rude not to, for tomorrow we sail...........
for England.....!