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Day 0: Home - Dover 9 m / 15 k
Home to London on Great Western, bike reservations £1, bought in advance. Cycle from Paddington to Charing Cross Station. Train to Dover, holding bikes in van, free carriage. Waited for European Bike Express with one American and a couple from Reading (very active in local CTC) for 45 minutes. Arrival times in France not affected but the food and toilet breaks were much shorter than last year. Bus stopped about 8pm and again around midnight, as before. Glad we brought our own food as meals were very slow in being delivered on the bus. Some people were not fed until near midnight.
Day 1: Montpellier - Béziers 54 m / 86 k
A few get off in Valence but most people get off in Orange at 5:30am. We move to the front for good views and consume a bowl of cereal, orange juice and boiled egg. Only 5 of us left, G and I get off outside Montpellier at 8:30am leaving the other three bound for Narbonne. M's bike damaged yet again: the same problem with the brake cable but this time it can be fixed immediately. Also damage to paint work and bike bottle holder. G's bike is fine.
Lovely sunny day, warm and dry with the smells of southern France in the gentle breeze. Olive trees, mulberry bushes, holm oak, juniper, broom, wild thyme and rosemary grow on the limestone hills. No wonder we feel invigorated (just as well) as we head off into the interior. Elaine's fruit shop in a small village gives us our first taste of real fruit - a nectarine with flavour! The 12th-14th century Cistercian Abbaye de Valmagne is built in the local rose-coloured stone. The living space for 300 monks is now used to store ageing wine. Its isolated setting with pine trees provides a comfortable resting place. Bikes galore, as usual on a Sunday, and vineyards galore. Clear views of the Cévennes are matched by distant glimpses of the Mediterranean. We are often on or near the Roman
Via Domitia, built to link Rome with Spain.
We have some lunch in Pézenas, outside the Hôtel de Molière and wonder if we could/should stop for the day. Molière visited this former Roman town in 1650 and observed the locals, who, it is rumoured, appear in his plays. Not sure how interesting Molière would find it now.
A strong wind from the north mixes with the heat (33C at 2pm) and we drink lots of water. As our water supply dwindles, so do the roads. Some of the old vineyard tracks seem to have been turned quite recently into proper roads. The sign-makers have yet to catch up. We should have checked the IGN map and made a note on the Michelin map, which is adequate in most circumstances. Lost roads and the subsequent change of route add 6 miles to an already long day. But finally we reach Béziers at 4pm, just in time to see a bike race taking part in front of our hotel! Lithe young men whizz past creating a noticeable current that pulls along the riders behind. Not quite our speed… No wonder the Tour de France peloton is so fast! A very nice dinner of melon, duck leg (cuisse de canard) and a local St Loup wine completes our first real day of holiday.
Day 2: Béziers - Narbonne 36 m / 57 k
Thick ceiling beams decorate our breakfast room making it appear like a medieval dining hall in a small manor house. We begin the day along the Canal du Midi which links the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. The Romans had the idea but it was Paul Riquet who found the solution and carried out the work at his own expense in the xviith century. The Seuil de Naurouze is the site of two springs, one flowing to the east and the other to the west. By increasing the flow of the spring it was possible to feed the canal and the locks. It took 12,000 workmen 14 years to complete the project. Riquet died of exhaustion 6 months before completion.
The canal is 240km/150 miles long and has 91 locks. We cycled about 40 miles on the Canal in total, past oval basins, pretty pink brick bridges as we entered Toulouse (see Day 6). The shade from the avenue of plane trees, cypresses and umbrella pines is most welcome as the temperature soars beyond 30C/90F once again.
After about an hour, we leave the canal for the open coutryside, shadeless and hot. At one point, Béziers and its cathedral appear in the distance like a cliff-top city overlooking a sea of fields. We pass châteaux with the same name as the wine produced from the vineyards (e.g. Montagne de la Clappe), baking in the autumnal sunshine. Less impressive but more unusual are the narrow dome-shaped cledes, small dry-stone structures for drying chestnuts, dotted about in fields. (Later, we see similar structures along the Atlantic coast, but these are used for drying salt.)
Fleury (Perinham in Occitan) follows a common pattern in this part of France. There is a Roman settlement (we are still following the Via Domitia), then a church is built, then the church is destroyed during the religious wars. The rocks from the church are used to build a citadel to protect the town. Finally, this is destroyed by the locals so that the stones can be used to build their houses and shops. Therefore, if you look carefully, you can see the remnants of stone carvings from a church or a Roman temple in the remains of a former city wall which is now the wall of a large building! Where the church isn't destroyed, it is fortified and becomes a place of refuge. Another common theme is the creation during the Third Republic of Hôtels de Ville which include the townhall, the school, the library and the archive all in one building with the librarian living on site.
We arrive in Narbonne at about 1:30, leaving plenty of time to explore the city which was established in 118 BC by the Romans and described in 27 BC as the "most beautiful city" when it was also the most densely populated in France. From the 7C BC it was a harbour and market. From 410 AD it was the capital of the Visigoths (after their sacking of Rome) until the 14C when the city went into decline due to the alluvial deposits, the sand silted bay and the departure of the Jewish community.
It is no longer in decline and we wander through the lively streets, briefly visit the Cathédrale St-Just (this is the fourth church on this site since the reign of Constantine in 1272) and enjoy several hours in the archaeological museum examining Roman mural paintings and prehistoric cave paintings. Another high point is walking on a section of the Via Domitia which has been excavated to expose the many layers of Roman road construction. It is interesting to see what we have been cycling over for the past two days. Further contemplation over a beer in the square is followed by dinner al fresco.Up until 11pm translating the
Curé de Cucugnan, retold by Alphonse Daudet from a Provençal tale - thankfully a very short tale
or it would have been after midnight. We are hoping to attend the play which is performed daily in Cucugnan.
Day 3: Narbonne - Cucugnan 58 m / 93 k
The much cooler evening air took me by surprise and I find myself this morning with a summer cold - not ideal when the day includes four cols and a total distance of nearly 60 miles. We leave Narbonne along the Canal de la Robine, which is rubble rather than the paved cycle path promised by the map. We cross the bank after Mandirac looking for a bridge which does not exist. An American cyclist, very laid back, who appears to have been on the road for some time, is looking for the same road on the same map. He is going to Narbonne so we can advise him of a route. Our path gets slightly better. We pass through desolate lagoons amongst the smells of pine and sewage. Bird life includes a medium-sized green waterfowl which looks like a cross between a cuckoo and a kingfisher. The hills of the Corbières to the west remind us of Scotland but the hot and humid weather places us firmly in southern France. It is all very flat until Caves, when undulations in the landscape remind us that we are going to be doing some climbing today. Oddly, the official Col de Feuilla is much easier than the climb before it which is an unmarked hill. We admire the pink and blue coloured shale as we climb slowly up, watched by birds of prey. Old wine villages (identified by houses packed closely together with narrow streets so that more land can be dedicated to vines and cool shade is created for the wine cellars under the houses) still have large 19C houses, well maintained (foreign money?) but boarded up. We stop in Tuchan, the centre for Fitou wine, so that I can have a tuna salad and a cold drink. Feeling shattered.
Suddenly there are lots more foreign cars as the first Cathar castle, Aguilar, appears on the horizon. Remnants of the fortress rise up from the mountaintop and it is sometimes hard to distinguish what is built by humans from the work of nature. The Col d'Extrême confirms the appropriateness of its name by the hard climb up. We realise it was recently used for a Spanish race by the markings on the road (GPM = Grand Prix des Montagnes). The last mile to Cucugnan, one hour before a heavy rainstorm, is the hardest cycling I have done for years. Not sure how I make it to the hotel which is on top of this steep town, perched on a hillock. I fall on the bed in one of our nicest hotel rooms with a view of the fortress of Quéribus. A 3-hour nap restores me sufficiently for dinner. G has to wash the clothes and write the account as well as plan for the next day.
The Cathars are a Christian heretical sect which was wiped out in the 14th century. The Albigensian crusade effectively joined the Languedoc to the rest of France. The Cathars believed in the dualistic separation of Good from Evil. God represents the spiritual world, beauty and light, while Satan is the material world. Humans have their spirit trapped in the material world of Satan. Sounds believable to me! The name "Cathars" is from the Greek "Kathari" meaning pure ones. Even though they denied the divinity of Christ they strove to emulate Him. They rejected the sacrements. Four bishops headed the sect: Albi (hence Albigensian), Toulouse, Carcassonne and Agen. There were two types of Cathars, the Parfaits who had to lead an austere life and the Croyants who cared for the Parfaits. Even women founded their own communities of Parfaits. The castles were built as defensive outposts c1000 then rebuit in the 13c for Cathar refugees. In the 1980s they were opened for tourism.
In the famous tale of the Curé de Cucugnan, the local priest tells his errant flock about a dream: he went to heaven but was told that all the former inhabitants of Cucugnan were elsewhere, lower down... Next day, the whole village queues up to confess its sins. (This sounds suspiciously like a prettified parable of the Albigensian crusade - conversion by persuasion rather than military force.)
Even older than the Cathars are the deep gorges near Padern where there are shelters in the rock protected by stone walls which were built in prehistoric times. We think we see one or two of these but it is hard to tell from a distance.
Day 4: Cucugnan - Lagrasse 42 m / 67 k
Still not well but feeling better. I can see how pretty the town of Cucugnan is as we wind our way down and around the small village. Even though it is foggy we cycle up towards the Château de Quéribus, a very steep climb to the Grau de Maury, on the border with the Pyrénées Orientales département. It was the last Cathar fortification to fall in the Albigensian Crusade and is 2391 ft above sea level. The morning mist hides the views of the Roussillon plain, the Eastern Pyrenees and the Spanish frontier.
Ruffiac provides us with food for the day. The western Corbières are wilder and more wooded than the eastern. We see some sheep and people, the latter very friendly. The Col de Redoulade is higher and steeper than advertised but the ripening blackberries eaten on the way up keep us going. Most of the cols are gentle climbs followed by lovely long medium-speed descents. I find that most ascents are no longer than two miles. The descent from Redoulade takes us through the most beautiful gorges with a sudden view of the castle at Auriac. The perfect temperature, the dappled sunshine and light breeze make this one of our best cycling days. We stay on the yellow road as it is quiet enough. At the top of the Col de Bedos, we meet a Dutch cyclist we had seen the day before along the Meditteranean cycle path (Etang de Sigean). He was talking to himself so I assumed he was writing a book and recording his route. We realise soon after meeting him that he is just a great talker. He is heading to Lagrasse but is camping. A very nice Dutch woman appears to have joined him for the day.
Lagrasse is a "most beautiful village" and it is quite nice when you first enter it but it isn't until you walk around and into this compact medieval village and along the river path and past the ruined Carolingian abbey, that you realise why it is considered "most beautiful". I enjoy walking past the allotments, originally designed by the Benedictines. The plots are separated by bamboo fences. They are full of ripening tomatoes, figs, peppers, aubergine, garlic, asparagus and onions. The 11th-century humpback bridge is a natural resting place to enjoy the views of what really is a very beautiful village. There are more British tourists than in Cucugnan where most were French. Our hotel looks unpromising but is fine. The owners are very friendly and we have a very nice meal on the terrace that evening watching the rain fall heavily on the vineyards surrounding us, and to the hills beyond.
Day 5: Lagrasse - Carcassonne 26 m / 41 k
The rain holds off during our brief 25 mile run to Carcassonne through fantastic gorges and over an unexpected col (but with an easy gradient). There is very little traffic on what road markings suggest is a local cycle race route (CLM = "Contre la montre", time trial), but we are the only competitors on this Thursday. As we approach the town we have good views of the walls of Carcassonne which was a Roman camp in the 1st C. By the 5th C it housed the Visigoths who were followed by the Franks in the 8C. The Albigensian Crusade interrupted the prosperity of what was the largest fortress in Europe in the 13th century. It fell into ruin and it wasn't until 1835, when Prosper Mérimée studied what remained of the fortress, that the State agreed to restore it. Viollet-le-Duc's fairy-tale tastes in architecture are in evidence. It is now invaded by tourists each year and is still the largest walled fortress in Europe.
The small road coming in (turn tight after going under the autoroute)
is deserted and we enjoy close views of the walls for nearly a kilometre before
finding ourselves in a large car and bus park packed with tourists. Our hotel, which is
supposed to be close to the fortress (we checked on Ismap on the Web), is along a busy road heading out of the new town, alongside a giant walled shopping mall. However, the shops are below ground so that views of the Haut Languedoc mountains from our hotel window can be enjoyed without too much distraction. We walk in heavy rain which stops as soon as we get to the fortress. We wander about with hundreds of others. It is harder to get an impression of the fortress from inside so we walk round the ramparts between the outer and inner walls watching the sun set. North wind still blows strong.
Day 6: Carcassonne - Toulouse 70 m / 112 k
The new part of Carcassonne is very much like any other French town, but perhaps uglier than usual. The countryside is much less dramatic. The first 20 miles seem to take a long time as we pass by yet more vineyards and through several small towns. The landscape finally becomes more interesting when we encounter our first town on a volcanic plug, then Castelnaudary, and various Roman ruins. The rolling countryside to the south of the Canal du Midi is replaced by a gently undulating cycle path, protected from the very strong northwesterly wind, when we rejoin the Canal from the D43. Plane trees protect us from the hot sunshine.
The path, after Avignonnet, is always easy to cycle along, wide enough for two of us while leaving room for other cyclists. A few are fellow touring cyclists but more common are those out for a training run or retired locals who had once been racing cyclists. A few river boats pass by quietly. As we near Toulouse, we pass or are passed by a mixture of racing cyclists, a few touring cyclists and many on roller blades. We can tell when they approach by the crunching of plane tree bark.
Red brick bridges framed in greenery become more frequent, as do pink brick University buildings alongside the path. Then we find ourselves going alongside factories associated with the aeronautics industry, crossing to the left bank before we are suddenly spat out into a lively district full of prostitutes and drug-addicts. - A prostitute: "You do remember the last time, don't you?" Graham: "Yes, Madame." A prostitute: "Vous êtes gentil." - We soon wander through the local China Town before finding a hotel near the Place Wilson. Bike storage, as usual, is no problem, unless you call carrying a bicycle down an unlit spiral staircase 3 feet wide a problem. We have another outdoor dinner, this time with a view of the Capitole, the 18th-century red brick and stone City Hall. This time G has the duck leg and I have skate. Nothing exciting but good enough after 70 miles!
Day 7: Toulouse - St Gaudens 62 m / 99 k
As we leave Toulouse we see traces of the chemical factory explosion from a year ago. Windows are still boarded up in some apartments and a huge expanse of devastated land stretches away to the distance. This is the biggest city we have cycled out of (on the D15) and it is occasionally nerve-racking but thanks to our daily commute, we know how to cope. It is 18 miles before we are clear of Toulouse traffic and shopping malls. Seconds after we go through a dangerous-looking junction near Seysses, we hear the screaming of brakes as three cars crash into each other. It reminds us how easy it is to get and keep a driver's licence without knowing how to drive.
More pleasant and surprising are the wonderful views of the entire range of the Pyrenees, from the Mediterreanean (Canigou) to the highest peaks of the Basque country, which we will cross a few days later. The best part is that we have these views without any climbing for the first 40 miles of the day. By late morning we are seeing the mountains in greater depth as layer upon layer is revealed in differing shades of blue. The smooth or craggy shape of each peak becomes clearer as we get closer. Of course, getting closer means that we have to start climbing and in the last 20 miles we have some steep, sharp, difficult climbs. Having read about the formation of this landscape during the Jurassic period, I can see that we are going over the violent folding of sandstone and limestone ridges. Now that we are climbing, the mountains have disappeared and we find ourselves looking down steep slopes to meadows dotted with cows, sheep and horses. Le Fousseret, a compact many-storeyed town is admired from a distance. We also pass various châteaux, built in different styles but all using the local red brick. We continue to go along or pass by former Roman roads. Huge cavernous barns made of red sandstone and attractive red brick grain silos with a cupola also decorate the landscape.
The valleys of the Pyrenean foothills spread out like the bones of a skate. The trick is to avoid going due west or east. We stop in Aurignac for lunch near the 16th C fortress style church. An equally monumental donjon sits on a steep hill at the top of the town. A Cro-Magnon skeleton (Aurignacious) was found here many years ago. After crossing a tributary of the River Garonne we enter St Gaudens to check into a rather dull looking modern Hôtel du Commerce.
We visit the 11-13C Collégiale's cloisters but the religious mood is broken by a loud rock band practising nearby. The guidebook also informs us about a terrace with a wonderful view of the Pyrenees. We head there and are amazed... Snow capped Pyrenean peaks can be seen in the distance but a massive factory partially masks the view with its billowing white smoke. The terrace swarms with people who have come in from the country for the day to enjoy the fair. It looks like Gatlinburg in the Smokies. Just below the terrace is a motley collection of rides, including a "Mississippi Boat Ride" and a high-rise ghost house. The mixture of colours, noise from the fair and the smoke from the factory create a surreal atmosphere. I imagine we are part of some movie set as we sip our beers. We visit a large fruit and vegetable market selling giant beets, boiled in the skin, which are used in salads.
Dinner is the best we have had this trip. A delicious cassoulet consisting of white beans, pork, onions and herbs baked for hours is the main course. This is preceded by a selection of cold sausages and pâté with rye bread and fresh vegetables (e.g. boiled beet, grated celeriac, tiny radishes). We are joined in the dining room by over 50 retired people who are on a coach trip to see the mountains. The tour guide is telling jokes that can probably be heard in any language. "I'm a bit mad, I am: the midwife dropped me on me head and I was never the same again", etc. We listen carefully to the announcements to make sure we avoid going on the same roads. The last thing you want up the Tourmalet is a big bus led by a self-confessed lunatic. The weather is predicted to be too misty for mountain views tomorrow. The coach party groans. We do not.
Click here for Part Two
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