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Day 8: Vaison - Crest 52 m / 83 k
The north-west wind joins us for breakfast on the sheltered terrace where each table has a selection of fresh fruit laid out artistically on a huge grape leaf - peaches, greengages and plums are in a perfect state of ripeness. Hot mini croissants and pains au chocolat melt in our mouth. Granola and good quality yogurt has us ready to face the day of the wind.
The Mistral is blowing at 50mph or more. We never have to use our brakes to go down a 1,000-foot hill and have to peddle to go forward! Needless to say, going forward on flat or uphill stretches is even more challenging. It makes the Mont Ventoux look easy. We have added on 20 miles to save a day (the original plan was to stay at La Bégude de Mazenc - 30 m. - and then at Valence - 40 m. - before reaching La Côte St André - 44 m.). We must finally be fitter since we do it in good time. Crest, where we are staying, is a picturesque sewer of medieval alleyways and tunnels with sarcastic peasants. The real thing. It shows how sanitised all the other `medieval' towns are. We contemplate huge jagged mountains to the NE - the `pre-Alps'.
We are now in our third province, the Dauphiné. A fourth, and tiny province comprising the Papal enclave in the Vaucluse is on the edge of the Drôme. Mountains to the west (along the Rhone Valley) and to the east (Vercors) offer us views of every sort of mountain - flat topped, jagged, pointed with sheer sides, etc. Wildlife is limited to butterflies, a bird of prey flying backwards (strong wind!) and a dead green snake.
Day 9 : Crest - La Cote-St Andre 64 m / 102 k
Today is the longer of the two days we have merged to save a third day. Lovely sunny day once again but with more cloud which makes it colder - only up to 20 degrees today. Wind is unfortunately as strong and from the northeast. We are of course going northeast…! Very hilly today as we move from valley to valley with views of the massive Vercors mountains to the east. The main road is busy so we venture back into the valleys but there is so much uphill and downhill on this circuitous route that we fear we will never get to a town with a hotel unless we get back on the main road. However, the traditional houses we see in these valley hamlets are very interesting. Pebbles weighing up to 2lbs each are used with stone and tile fragments to decorate the external walls of these houses which have no windows facing north. Another feature of these farmhouses is that they have the barn attached to the house so that the farmer need not go outside to feed the animals in bad weather. A flock of grey-feathered small turkeys are probably a local specialty. Lots of eagles are sighted. The scenery changes from cornfields, sorghum and dead sunflowers to fields of multi-coloured asters. Homes with vegetables gardens filled with pumpkins, apple, pear and plum trees give way eventually to forests which shelter us from the wind.
Our approach along a very busy main road (D71) with too many huge trucks is geologically interesting. The plain we are on is completely level and flat and is rimmed by low hills which abruptly and sharply stand out against the sky - a perfect example of how glaciers created certain types of landscape. The town is tantalizingly before us for miles before arriving.
The architecture in the towns (Crest and La Côte St André) is remarkable for the sheer size and height of the buildings. Our bedroom has 14-foot high ceilings. La Côte St André, the birthplace of Berlioz, is noted for its 10th century market/halles with its huge
rafters, roof and five aisles all still intact. Above is an 11th century church made of pebbles with a huge belfry. The ramparts were destroyed in the 16th century when the town sided with the Protestants but the defensive chateau remains looking over the plain towards the nearby Alps. The town seems to be dying and we are lucky to find a one star hotel (only £16 for the room, including a bathroom with large swathes of the wall peeling away) and even luckier to find an opened restaurant. It gives us the opportunity to have a Vietnamese meal - delicious with lots of fresh vegetables, such as found in a Saigon Salad which is a mass of raw cabbage, carrots, bean sprouts, crumbled peanuts and a special dressing. Apple and banana donuts doused in alcohol and set alight complete the meal. Bored teenage boys are still talking to each other in the same square with no one else in sight.
Day 10: La Cote-St Andre - Pont de Beauvoisin 32 m / 51 k
Out on the road before 9am. We continue along the valley between two huge mountain ranges. A long stretch of one town leading into another, some quite attractive with church steeples on low hills with cows grazing on the flat plain beneath blue skies, next to fruit orchards turning autumnal shades of yellow and orange. A man on a bicycle with his crook and dog is herding a group of cows. (Later on the trip we see a man on a bike leading a lawn-mower around town.) Narrow roads running through these long strung out towns are much too busy at this time of day so we are glad to get off the main road and head further into the mountain valleys where the air is incredibly clear and bright. Lovely, idyllic scenes of peaceful countryside. Fields of dead sunflowers create odd geometric patterns in the bright sunlight. We stop several times to enjoy the views and the quiet.
The last two kilometers are spent descending into Pont de Beauvoisin, a double town with the same name on either side of the Guiers River, dividing Savoy from France (the King of Savoy abdicated only in 1946, the House of Savoy having ruled this region since the 11th century). The divide is still obvious as a grocery chain (Casino) has a tiny shop in both parts of town, barely ¼ of a mile apart. We walk around the town made more attractive by its setting amongst forests, mountains and the river. Boredom is perhaps a problem as we walk around and nearly get hit by a baby bottle falling three floors to the ground from one of the balconies. The next morning as we are leaving three children hang out the 3rd floor window shouting "les vélos! les vélos!" and we wave to the energetic parentless children.
Too tired to fully enjoy dinner but we manage four courses nevertheless. We are in the mountains and food is "less complex" according to the guides. Meat and potatoes, but they are cooked in a lovely cream sauce (gratin dauphinois). The dining room is surprisingly quiet with only one other table occupied by a Dutch family. (We realise the next day that everyone must have been at home watching television.)
Days 11-12: Pont de Beauvoisin - Aix-les-Bains 40 m / 64 k
Then rest day in Aix
"Many cyclists neglect to equip themselves with a brake, since it is possible to brake either by pressing on the pedals, or by putting one's foot on the ground, or again by placing a foot on the front wheel. This is not prudent. People who ride in the mountains, when descending, attach a large tree branch to the back wheel. By dragging along the ground, the tree branch acts as a brake."
Camille Meillac, Les Sports à la mode (Paris, 1909). Tr. GR
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As we are checking out of the hotel the very friendly receptionist tells me something in French which makes me assume I have misunderstood what she has said. And then she shows me the newspaper with a large photo of the World Trade Center collapsing and news of the destruction of part of the Pentagon. Graham quickly reads the paper and tells me about it as we cycle along that day. CNN fills us in with repeated photos that evening on the hotel television.
A gradual climb then a steep climb to the beginning of the Col de l'Epine (named after a thorn from Christ's crown which is housed in a chapel near the summit). The astounding beauty of the countryside covered in rising mist provides distraction on our way up. The mist swirls between the hills and appears at times like a magical waterfall flowing down a river of forest green.
We stop for breakfast at the top of a hill commanding a wonderful view of Lac d'Aiguebelette. Horses
like ghosts stand in the mist rising from the lake which is spread out before us, deep blue
and surrounded by high mountains which we will cross later that morning. Nances, a Swiss-style village
near Novalaise with potted geraniums decorating the rather flimsy road barriers, rises extremely steeply and soon we have the valley below us, with the lake a distant glint of blue. The 2980' climb is steep but since the setting and the views are stupendous one can easily be distracted from the slow 4mph progress uphill. The splendid Savoie cycling itineraries give this route their highest rating: "athlétique"…
We are in a forest of mixed deciduous and pine trees. The road is a very narrow ribbon of tarmac with a sheer drop on one side and vertical walls of rock on the other side. At the top, there is no white line to cross as with the other two official climbs of the Tour de France on our route and there is no one to greet us and congratulate us, no postcard or ice-cream shops. Just the silence of a wood clearing.
A view point 1 kilometer on gives us panoramic views of the Lac du Bourget, Aix les Bains and the large city of Chambéry far down in the valley below (the Savoie cycle itineraries claim that this is only to be attempted by "athletic" cyclists). The first third of the descent, though curvaceous and steep, is enjoyable and easy to control when I remember to slow down for the hairpin bends, which, in typical French fashion, have no barriers and would send you straight off the mountain. The trees might break your fall but I wouldn't want to test it.
Then, in an attempt to meet up with a promised cycle path through Chambéry, we turn off onto a smaller and rougher road signposted for cyclists and the descent becomes dangerous, reminiscent of Wales where I often had to walk down out of sheer terror. However, we are at the top of a mountain and it is too far to walk down so I ride and turn off sharply at the occasional driveway to slow down and cool off the brakes. The terror comes from the ability to see the road at what appears to be 60 degrees descending for miles and miles into the valley fully visible, as from a plane. I am continually wavering between wanting to close my eyes and keeping them open to enjoy the magnificent views.
We finally come to a screeching halt and are disappointed not to find the promised bike path. (It would almost certainly have been better to stay on the D916 which seems to give a faster and safer descent.) Worse still, the compass has stopped working - just when we need it! (The water on which the compass ball floats appears to be evaporating.) Persistence and the unsuitability of the only road which is very busy (and has a No Bikes sign, typical of what happens when you have dedicated bike paths) results in G. finding the path, finally, after 4 miles of going in circles. But once we have found it, we are rewarded by a path that runs through woods, along streams and finally along the Lake, all on dedicated bike path. We had seen the Tour de France cycling along the lake and it is even better in reality (!) - the clear blue placid lake on one side and views of mountains rising up along the eastern shore.
Rousseau and Lamartine made the Lac du Bourget famous. A cyclist in full kit gets onto my wheel for 5 miles - either I am fit or he isn't!
Hundreds of hotels greet us as we enter this lively old world spa town full of people 60+ years old. They are here for a cure in a town famous since Roman times for its thermal waters. Lots of hotels but very few rooms so we have to stay in two different hotels but we get two different views. The first offers us views from the 3rd floor of the mountains we have just come over, in particular the Dent du Chat (Cat's Tooth), a bare spike of rock which dominates the range of mostly forested mountains. The next day we have a view of the Casino which has fountains which dance about to a tune which becomes quite familiar to us as it plays every hour until 10pm! The hotel rooms are big and surprisingly inexpensive, e.g. £30.
Eating in this town is a challenge as great as finding a room. Most hotels seem to have weekly deals with room and board for the 3rd generation. The set menu is geared for a small stomach and is served, even in the best hotels, as in a boarding house, at some speed. Thankfully, the waiter sees our problem and gives us very large portions when we get to the cheese course! The next night we go to the only proper restaurant in town and have a very nice meal at a more leisurely pace. Raw slices of tuna marinated in lemon and mint are very refreshing. This is followed by poached salmon topped by spinach and freshly made pasta.
A ruined arch marking the thermal baths built by the Romans is near our hotel, as are several large gardens, one with a giant chess board with pieces the size of small children, and a large outdoor dance floor where couples move to the sound of 1930s -1940s music. Perfect pre-dinner entertainment. On the morning of the 13th we visit the Faure Museum which has a copy of Lamartine's room including samples of portraits, letters, etc. An interesting collection of sculptures by Rodin, many of them female nudes and most referring to a classical story. Impressionist paintings complete the collection which is housed in what used to be a private home (21-franc entrance fee). But not to lose out on exercise, we walk toward the esplanade via a very steep hill overlooking the lake where Lamartine used to sit, pining for Elvire.
Large ornate turn-of-the century houses line the old road which is now a quiet residential area. We have wonderful views of the mountains which drop into the eastern side of the lake. A perfect arrangement of plane trees gives us symmetrical shade down the kilometre long esplanade. We are warned against the rather crass decorations of the Hautecombe Abbey by the 19th century Larousse encyclopedia so we decide to cancel the boat trip to the Abbey. We are also suspicious of the 1.5-hour talk on their mission.
"From Pont de Beauvoisin, we had to go to Aiguebelette, which is a little town at the foot of the mountain, the gateway to Savoy. There, you must take a passport, & your actions & itinerary are determined by what is written therein. If it states that you must pass through a village, you must pass through it, & take pills in order to avoid the quarantine at Novalaise.
We climbed the mountain, at the foot of which is a very great lake. People who are not used to climbing will learn from this mountain how to puff & sweat, for it is one of the hardest climbs you could find. On the descent, we went further than we intended: night overtook us & we got lost."
Loys Balourdet, Guide des chemins pour le voyage de Hierusalem
et autres villes et lieux de la Terre saincte (Chaalons, 1601), p. 9-10. Tr. GR
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Day 13: Aix-lex-Bains - Hauteville 38 m / 61 k
A lucky day for several reasons. First, storms are predicted but we only get wet once. Second, the main road along the lake out of Aix-les-Bains, which follows the lake shore and would have been VERY busy, is closed to all traffic, "including cyclists and pedestrians". Since the alternative route would add about ten miles,
we ignore the signs and enjoy the lovely views without any bother of traffic. Soon, however we hear alarms going off but as it has to do with the railway running alongside the road we ignore this as well. Eventually, our way is blocked but thanks to G.'s French (plus our good luck in picking an amenable person and French workers' solidarity with cyclists) we get permission to cross the worksite as long as we promise not to fall. I nearly do and I can hear a collective breath of relief when I right myself! Third, when the rain finally does come down in great buckets we are within a few feet of a colourful and clean bus shelter. Finally, our hotel appears out of the mist immediately before the third big outburst and we are safely under shelter for the rest of the day which is exceedingly wet.
We watch the Tour of Spain which coincides with our own Tour de France. Different channels are available in different places, so we have heard commentary in Spanish, German, Italian, French and English. Of course, we think our luck has run out when we see a sign saying the restaurant attached to the hotel is shut and the other two restaurants are closed for two weeks. There are two brasseries (full of orange plastic furniture) so we wouldn't have starved but we are grateful when the hotel owner agrees to serve dinner to two couples staying overnight. The choice was limited but the food was good and he was quite keen on cycling so made sure we had pasta with our meal.
During the day we find a detour through forests, dark and wild, with the road so narrow it appears to be a ribbon laid out through natural clearings. Tiny villages, far from anywhere (not really, as Lyon is less than 50 miles away, but there is a real sense of isolation and tranquillity) have public buildings still used by the community, e.g. a large outdoor bakery for weekly bread making. Flower gardens burst with colour and often old logs are used to house masses of geraniums. An 8-mile climb to the Col de la Lebe is not too difficult.
Day 14: Hauteville - Bourg-en-Bresse 43 m / 69 k
Today is marked by our 500th mile (800th kilometre) and is a day of contrasts. The north wind is still blowing - how dare it! - and we have a bit of rain. We begin the day with a warming two-kilometer climb up the Col de la Breche (861 metres) and a fantastic ride through Jura foothills which remind me of East Tennessee. They were created by the folding of sedimentary rock many centuries ago. As a result there are many caves and hidden streams. Mist rises through these forested hills along narrow, steep sided valleys. Once again I am struck by the isolation of the area. Tiny hamlets that suddenly appear in the crevice of a valley are first viewed by their church steeple, or occasionally by the turrets of a chateau. The beauty can be savoured while going up steep but well graded hills at 4-5mph and then down the pleasantly gentle descent down into another valley through beautiful woods, smelling of autumn. Large boulders covered in moss and a mixture of deciduous trees (beech, oak, birch) cover these big hills.
On one of the hills, we are kept busy on the long descent nodding silently to hunters, positioned every 150 metres with guns ready to hand. Some of the dogs sit by their master while other dogs are already in the forest hunting for what? Wild boars? By the time we get to the village at the foot of the hill we realise we must have seen the entire male population! As we are climbing out of the valley we hear shots.
We stop at the Château de Varey to take a picture of M with squash plants. Then suddenly, we are in Pont d'Ain, on a wide plain with roads and cars everywhere. What a shock after all our silent cycling. However, it is a chance to buy some food before reaching Bourg-en-Bresse. It takes us two hours before we are finally ensconced in a hotel near the rail station. By then we have seen the town several times over! (Those signs to the centre were not meant for cyclists!) Occasionally it is a bother not having booked ahead but then we are usually glad we have had the opportunity to be choosy. It has a Second Empire exterior with 1980s décor in the rooms. The balcony gives us nice views of the tree-lined street. A well-maintained 1920s elevator adds a touch of elegance to the spacious foyer and large garden. The bikes have a vast garage almost to themselves.
During the afternoon we walk to the nearby town of Brou which is famous for its monastery. We spend quite a few hours exploring the lovely flamboyant Gothic church built under the direction of Margaret of Austria in the early 16th century. The beautiful exterior has filigree stonework, exquisite alabaster carvings of the "Seven Joys of Mary". The roof has patterned tiles in a variety of colours in the manner of Eastern Europe. The cloisters have been restored and are now used as an art gallery. Dinner is in a restaurant with pretensions to being a brasserie with staff trained to hurry the customers along. We walk back through pedestrianised streets lined by 16th century houses and buildings.
Day 15: Bourg-en-Bresse - Lons-le-Saunier 55 m / 89 k
A day of clouds but with sunny spells and some rain. On this day, G.'s gear cable breaks (after 4 years) and he is stuck in the lowest 5 gears. It makes going down the hills frustratingly slow as he has to wait to slow down enough to be able to pedal. In sympathy, I go slower as well and we both realise how tiring that can be. On the positive side, it is the right set of gears since we are spending 70% of our time going uphill but it is frustrating losing so much momentum on the downhill parts.
The landscape is rather dull but that is probably in comparison with the previous days. However, we do see lots of bird life along the hedgerows and above the fields. More than a dozen eagles are spotted, as are grouse, florescent blue kingfishers and exotic looking waterfowl near a private pond/lake we stop near for a snack. Cyclists and hunters abound and keep us company on the deserted motorways. St Amour, one of our favourite wines, is a disappointing town.
We share a bus shelter with three others (Sunday walkers) during a short burst of rain. Although they are locals, they give directions that would have taken us into Lons-le-Saunier on busy roads and by a round-about route. (Car drivers often don't know their own area.) As we wait for the storm to pass they admire our bikes but are uncertain of G.'s shoes (blue suede does make for an unusual cycling shoe). They believe we are brave (surely foolish?) to be cycling the length of France. Trusting the map, we slip into Lons on a quiet little road and arrive in a drizzle. We find the arcade for which Lons is famous as well as the statue of the man who wrote the national anthem, the Marseillaise. As important is the location of a hotel which is open - a common problem on Sundays. We watch the television news as we wash up. It is all about "terror in America", the name given to the bombings in NY and Washington. We have now heard the reaction views from newscasters from Britain, Italy and of course France. Some reports are informative, others are more emotional. Several have shown Clinton in NY reminding Americans that not all Muslims are terrorists.
The hotel solves the other Sunday problem of finding an open restaurant. We have some local specialities beginning with a salad made of lettuce, egg, Gruyere cheese and walnuts. A Bresse chicken baked in the local wine is consumed with the lively local Côte du Jura wine which leaves us feeling quite merry.
Day 16: Lons-le-Saunier - Salins-les-Bains 39 m / 63 k
The bike shop, according to the passing postman, is closed on Mondays but we have a list of two others in towns we are passing through so we decide to proceed. The shop in Poligny - a tiny hovel filled with dust and mechanical wreckage - will turn out to be closed, as will the shop in Salins-les-Bains. G. cuts the route by 10 miles (easily done by missing out Arbois) - just as well, since it is hard going. We are now in the Jura Mountains and a typical feature of the French Jura (as opposed to the Swiss Jura which we are only 20 miles from at one point in the day) is the preponderance of blind valleys known as reculées. What was a flat plateau is sharply cut by short valleys with steep sides.
After leaving Lons, the climb up to Chateau-Chalon, where we move from one terraced hillside to another, reminds me of photos of rice paddies along steep hillsides in China. The vineyards are positioned in different directions. Each block is separated by narrow track ways. The road has a good gradient plus we are distracted by the lovely views. After another mile hike up into the sky, we turn off into the forests. Up high in the mountains, the forest provides shelter but little respite from the continual climbing (70% of the time) and occasional descents (30% of the time). G. is stuck in the right set of gears (but he is limited to those few gears) and catches up with me pretty quickly. A long cold descent into Poligny which is sparkling in the sunshine. We buy some lunch (a local specialty is a very light pastry in thin sheets, folded over double to form the base and top for a filling of ham, cheese, eggs and cream). We eat it while attempting to shelter from the rain in the town square.
We head up north into more forests (via Chaussenans), lovely and quiet. We can see in miniature the fissured limestone region which creates numerous caves and waterfalls, along with the blind, steep-sided valleys. We emerge into one of these at Salins-les-Bains, with fortifications on the outcrops stunningly situated high above the town. The town is famous for its saline baths and our hotel is next door to the baths constructed in the 18th century. We have a well-decorated large room with views of the main road of this long narrow town which is hemmed in by sheer cliffs dotted with forests. We have to pay for a locked garage to store the bikes, but this gives Graham a chance to clean them properly, out of the rain. Our tour of the town doesn't last very long and we are soon enjoying a beer in one of the brasseries. Fantastic rock music keeps us there much longer than planned. At dinner we are entertained by country music and a small pack of flea-sized flies attracted by the lights. A vegetable terrine (carrot, turnip and spinach) is healthy and tasty and is followed by a succulent pintade. Local cheeses, including a melted raclette complete the meal accompanied by a red Jura wine.
The woods are owned and managed either by the state or by the local community. Those managed by the local community offer each household a quantity of firewood, the quantity being determined either by the number of fireplaces you have or the size of your roof. Most homes we pass seem to rely on wood heating, to judge by the quantity of neatly stacked firewood near the house. The houses in the countryside are attached to the barn and stables with steeply pitched roofs so that snow can more easily slide off and so that windows and doorways are protected by the deep overhang. Many cows and goats, the bells around their necks gently ringing in the clear mountain air, stare at us cycling past. The local cheese is made with milk from cows which have only consumed certain grasses at high altitudes.
Day 17: Salins-les-Bains - Dijon 69 m / 110 k
Our longest day yet at 68.5 miles/110.3 kilometres. The day doesn't start until 10am but we were finally able to get Graham's gear cable replaced for a mere 50F (£5 or $7.50) and my brake adjusted for free. A final lingering look at the hills and boulders before we head back into the forest. A quick stop at Arc-et-Senans, where a model town was built in 1779. It is now a historic monument. We peer through the gate with a large group of school children at this town built in an arc with all buildings looking inward. Rough stone sculptures merge with the clean lines of traditional 18th century architecture. A 20 mile run through the largest deciduous forest in France. The Forêt de Chaux is very pleasant and we appreciate the smooth road surface and gentle gradients (unlike the previous day). Oak predominates but there are also beech, larch and various conifers in this dark and quiet forest. The narrow tarmac road weaves its way naturally through the trees. On the edge of the forest we stop to talk with some wild boars.
Dôle, where we might have stopped, is as beautiful as anticipated with its many 16th-18th century buildings, lovely rooftops rising up above an unusually wide weir marking the edge of the town. It is only lunch time so we continue along the flat alluvial plain of Burgundy. A military zone near the airport forces a change of route, on to the busier D968, hence the additional miles, but we are fortunate in finding a canal path (not signposted) into Dijon which makes the last 5 or 6 miles much easier. We don't have to concentrate to stay alive! Dijon is a huge city but our usual trick of heading into the centre by targeting the church spire works again, eventually, and we locate a hotel near the Theatre and Law Courts. A large room with two balconies on the 3rd floor gives us very nice views of this older part of the city.
A wonderful dinner gives us the strength to get back to our hotel. Lettuce with sweet pimento and cherry tomatoes, very nice ham and smoked duck gizzards which melt in your mouth start us off. We then move onto strips of duck cooked in a cassis sauce served with green beans bundled in perfectly cooked bacon, a roast tomato and potatoes. - 110-kilometer appetites.
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