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Day 8: Embrun - Sisteron 59 m / 93.5 k
The hotel landlady sees to our breakfast while speaking in imitation of a machine gun. A large group of retired people are getting themselves organised slowly for their coach tour to see the biggest lake in Europe - the Lac de Serre-Ponçon (part of the taming of the Durance, which regularly used to destroy towns and villages). We are heading there as well.
The N94 has a wide shoulder so the 21-kilometre ride along this busy road is not too unbearable. The views are very pretty when one feels brave enough to look away from the traffic. The extremely short but steep ascents and descents, one following the other, require a different style of cycling. For the first time, muscles complain from the continual shifting. Not surprised that "L'Impossible Montée" takes place in this region - a bike race up a hill with gradients up to 50% which we saw advertised in Embrun.
We turn off at Chorges after the avenue of plane trees - our first Provençal style town since we left the Alps. The D3 to the Col Lebraut is closed to cars on 1st July and 24th August so that cyclists can enjoy the route without disturbance. On this day, 11th September, it is quiet enough for us, as well as for a man riding a horse with a packhorse in tow. We have an easy climb to the Col Lebraut until the latter third, which is rather steep.
The countryside is beginning to change. The land is drier and trees are smaller. Olives are in cultivation and one can smell various wild herbs such as thyme. The need to shift quickly from steep ascent to descent marks this landscape. It is frustrating to gain height only to lose it a few minutes later and then have to regain it a few minutes after that. At least in the Alps there is a sense of accomplishment! It also reminds me that "following a river" does not always mean one is going to be in a flat valley. Some mental shifting is needed to get through today in a good mood.
We finally reach the Col des Sagnes (1200 metres according to the sign but 1182 according to our sources, Michelin and the
Club des Cent Cols). [photo] The other side of the mountain opens onto yet another landscape. The "folding action" which created these mountains is obvious as we quickly descend the tightly wound "Tourniquets". [photo] It is great fun. The descent continues to Sisteron through gorges, ever deeper and more tortuous. One is like a wind tunnel so it's just as well we are descending! It has been a wonderful day for experiencing a radical transition in the landscape. We have our first sight of Mont Ventoux 7 kilometres from Sisteron on the D951.
We have to cross the River Durance before entering the fortress town of Sisteron, which sits on top of a rock. All appears calm, but when we step onto the medieval bridge, a mighty wind knocks us aside - the Mistral, strengthened by the funneling effect of the Durance valley. I hang onto my bike and the bridge in order to right myself. Walking against this wind is simply impossible, and it is easy to believe the tales of the Mistral stopping steam locomotives. My cap has been whisked off my head by the sudden blast (it is retrieved by a local boy). Unfortunately, the map, tucked into the front pocket of G's bike has been snatched by the Mistral, never to be found again. As it includes part of tomorrow's route, it causes some worry. The notes from today, scribbled on the back, have also been lost.
The Grand Hôtel du Cours is easily found and the room has wonderful views of the several towers in the centre. We sit in a cafe watching the bell tower clock while we recover from this gruelling day. The dinner is ok but nothing special, despite the three-star status of the hotel.
Day 9: Sisteron - Aurel 36.5 m / 58.2 k
Today was going to be a rest day but I cancelled it during the planning stage as I didn't think there would be enough to do in Sisteron. Not sure it was the right decision as I lay in bed slowly waking up. However, now that we are in Aurel, sitting in the hotel cafe in the late afternoon sunshine overlooking ripening vegetable gardens in this tiny provencal village, I am glad we didn't stay in the bustling town of Sisteron. It is much nicer here, sitting alongside a road which has more cyclists whizzing past than cars. Women, men, in groups, singly or in couples, in full team gear or shorts and t-shirt provide endless speculations. We assume many are on the route which includes a climb up the Mt Ventoux. I should add that none of them is carrying luggage.
Having lost part of the map, we had to study the city map outside the town hall in Sisteron. While we were there, an older, local cyclist came up to chat and look at our bikes and was proud to tell us that he had recently completed the Paris-Brest-Paris bike ride. Today, at the top of our second climb, the Col de Macuègne [photo], we met several other British cyclists who were having their luggage carried by a support vehicle that regularly checked up on their group (the van passed us at least 4 times). All were very friendly except one woman who was extremely competitive and only felt better when she concluded that "we weren't really carrying that much luggage". She had worked hard to catch up and pass me -a rather pathetic accomplishment which seemed to make her happy. The more professional the cyclists, the less silly and more friendly they seem to be.
This was a perfect day. We had three cols but they all had even and easy gradients, especially the last one, the Col de l'Homme Mort ("dead man's pass"). [photo] It had the decency to begin where the previous col had ended so we didn't lose the height we had gained. It provided us with fantastic views, our last, of the now very distant snow-capped Alps. Rounder provençal hillsides are in the foreground and later we have views down into a wide valley dotted with numerous hamlets, many of them now abandoned. The smell of lavender fills the air as we descend, tugged and pushed by gusts of wind, into Aurel (G speeding down the excellent surface at 42mph), a village arranged across several ledges. From a distance it looks like a tightly wound top. We are finally and fully in Provence!
The hotel, the Relais du Mont Ventoux, has one star, primarily because there is no television. The room, at the top of this 16th century inn, has a small window which frames the dusty green hillsides across a ravine. The hotel, as well as the dinner, is much nicer than last night's 3-star establishment. It is run by a bevy of young German women, some of whom appear homesick.
Day 10: Aurel - Saint-Paul-Trois-Châteaux 55.6 m / 88.8 k
Most people have left by the time we come downstairs at 8am for the official start of breakfast. Many of the couples from last night's dinner have transformed themselves into cyclists and are heading off in every direction. It is another lovely sunny day. Other than going up and down four cols (!), the day is spent descending. The Col des Aires has very gentle gradients, the Col de Veaux is long with a steep section near the summit, the Pas du Voltigeur is mostly downhill and the Col des Pieux is steep but short. We are circumnavigating the great Mt Ventoux. The northern side is quite lush and green. [photo]
The high point (in several senses) of the morning is the run past Brantes, a small village moulded and melded into a steep hillside in the shadow of the Ventoux. I have been wanting to visit this stunning sight since I saw it on a postcard three years ago. We stop at one of the entrances to the village. The silence is so intense we feel we must whisper to each other. However, a short way out of the village, on a steep descent, we stop to take a photo. Our ears pick up the intense cry of a guitar solo which blends in perfectly with the surroundings. "Time" by Pink Floyd flows out of a picturesque stone window, swirling up towards the summit of the Ventoux. No sign of life otherwise.
We carry the tune as we gradually climb out of a pretty valley on the other side of Brantes. The Ventoux slopes away to the West. At times, we catch a glimpse of the long descent to Malaucène (see 2001 account). The flat lush meadows are coloured with bright red apples ready for harvest and the spiky light green of ripe chestnuts. There are lots of butterflies, as on the day before, often landing on my hat or glasses for a brief rest. Kites and swooping jays are forever crossing the sky above us. The shadow of a low flying eagle startles me.
At the top of the valley we turn off into horseshoe shaped hills and valleys, created through volcanic action. As we are going up one of these ascents, cyclists calling out "hee haw" and "hi" fly past on the other side of the road. One assumes they are American, the first we've seen or heard on this trip.
Every mile moves us closer to the Rhone Valley. As if to confirm this, we begin to see the harvesting of grapes. The pickers wave from flat-bed trucks looking extremely happy. They seem to have been testing last year's harvest. We enter Vaison-la-Romaine on the road from Entrechaux. We buy fougasse (bread with fillings) at the same bakery from the same woman as in 2001.
As we head for Buisson we have clear views of three distinct landscapes, the Ardeche to the west, another of Mt Ventoux and a third of Les Baronnies. Near the end of the day we pass through Suze-la-Rousse which has a large château housing a "wine university". We have made good time so we take a detour in search of a "lost village". Unfortunately, this involves a climb which goes on for some time, even after the summit of the Col des Pieux [photo]. The deserted village is never found and the promised view is obscured by trees and bushes which have grown up. We have to settle for a deserted view.
However, at least it is a fast downhill to St-Paul-Trois-Châteaux. The three castles never existed (the name comes from the Tricastin region), but there is a former cathedral, famous for its provençal architecture. Bands of black schist make the interior rather dark. It has an impressive organ. We are staying in a three-star hotel, L'Esplan, regularly visited by the US Postal team. This is rather obvious as we stand in the reception area where a framed yellow jersey and cap from 2003 signed by Lance himself proudly hangs. In the corner of the frame is a photograph of Beloki's fall and Lance's detour over a field. [photo] The owner has a pleasant and relaxed manner.
Unlike the hotel in Sisteron, this one deserves its star rating. We have a big room, well equipped, even though we have chosen one of the cheaper options. Unfortunately, the annual fair has parked itself next to the hotel. Despite the triple glazing, there is considerable noise from the music and the circus people who are using loudspeakers to help make a ride more exciting - "up we go and now here we go again and up we go and here we go again". This tedious chant becomes a blur as I have no problem falling asleep for a brief nap.
Dinner is the best of the trip. We have a local Tricastin wine - La Baume de Transit (Saint Luc), 1999. A tiny cup of mushroom and carrot soup with a spoon of flavoured cream and a fish flan begin the meal. An artfully arranged feuilletée with wild mushrooms in a sauce is accompanied by a spinach and pine-nut bread. The main course is pork roast with red onion marmalade and white mustard cream. A sheep cheese is served with bitter greens. This is followed by a beautifully displayed cake in white chocolate. Each dish is decorated with local flowers and herbs. Our neighbours have a dish involving a large pine frond. It is wonderful but very hard to imagine a ravenous cycling team having the patience or the time for such a lengthy and intricate meal. The kitchen can probably produce pots of pasta for such occasions.
Day 11: Saint-Paul-Trois-Châteaux - Joyeuse 51.6 m / 83 k
After breakfast G has a long talk with the hotel owner about the US Postal Team, cycling in the region, the Tour de France and the Mt Ventoux (which the owner cycles up three times a year). It is a Sunday but we find a grocery store. I shop while G cleans the bikes. We don't get started until 9:45 which is late for what will be another hot day. It is so warm that we even stop at a café for a cold drink at lunchtime!
A tip for cyclists is to head north from Saint-Paul on the D458 and then to cross the canal, the two railways, the autoroute and the Rhone on the D59 as it has a wide shoulder and is probably the easiest crossing of this giant river. Also recommended is to take the D358 from Bourg St Andéol heading SW into the gorges of the Ardèche as it is very quiet. A tip we couldn't follow is to avoid the Ardèche gorges on a Sunday when the road is busy with tourists.
A teenage boy in cycling gear, pedalling proficiently, passes us on an uphill stretch and is immediately followed by his parents in a support vehicle. The family trio and a few hunters are our only companions on this first quiet stretch of road. We are cycling on a ridge-road along the tops of hills which run above the gorges but offer few views of the distant mountains. More often we are peering across extensive forests dominated by diminutive pine trees. The scenery changes dramatically when we turn on to the much busier D290 which runs through the gorges. The sunny, warm day has attracted many locals as well as tourists who have come some distance by motorcycle or in the much hated camper vans.
At Maladrerie des Templiers there is a stop so that one can look down to the Ardeche river. Colourful canoes and boats can be seen far below. The blue-green river snakes its way through these deep and wide gorges. It is quite magnificent. We are surprised by the density of forests which cover all the slopes and gullies except the most vertical of stone cliffs, pure white in the sun. We cycle a few miles to the Grotte de la Madeleine which gave its name to the Magdalenian period. We descend towards the Ardeche and stop again at the Pont d'Arc with its famous stone arch which forms a natural bridge over the river. [photo]
The tourist shops offering boat and water ski rental peter out but the fantastic scenery continues after Vallon Pont d'Arc and Ruoms along the very quiet Défilé de Ruoms (D4). A road - sometimes single-track - takes us along the side of another set of gorges. It has several short tunnels carved out of the rock but these are not dangerous because traffic only flows in one direction at a time. A traffic light ensures that the few cars pass by in packs. These gorges are as beautiful as the more famous ones but we are generally alone. Dozens of birds soar along the gorges or above the swiftly flowing river.
An exceedingly steep climb from the hamlet of Prends-toi-gardes up to Laurac confirms that we have entered the Vivarais, described as a "hilly region" in the guidebooks. We are avoiding the slightly busy D104 into Joyeuse. The road surfaces are awful on either route but at least the countryside is very pretty. We arrive at our hotel feeling as though we have done 80 miles. The heat has drained us and we are glad to have a big airy room with a balcony overlooking a swimming pool. The hotel, Les Cèdres, is "recommended by Brittany Ferries" and is packed with English people, most of them elderly and in need of much attention.
Our hunt for a café takes us into the old town, winding, ever upward, on cobbled streets. Tall narrow houses line the medieval paths which provide endless shortcuts between the irregularly spaced squares. It isn't very big and there is a lack of shops but there is a "comic museum, unique in France". We stop for a drink in the only pub opened on this Sunday evening. It is run by a friendly but squalid family in the least attractive part of town. They seem to be speaking Auvergnat, but perhaps it's just French with a thick accent. We soon tire of the view of a massive unpaved parking lot and head back to the hotel, full to the brim with British tourists.
Dinner is held in a massive dining room, rather chaotic due to a buffet which is popular with the coach tourists. We have a chestnut pancake for dessert in honour of all the chestnut trees we have passed over the past two days, and in memory of all those people who had to live on chestnuts for months and months before the introduction of the potato and the advent of railways. They are not very tasty!
Day 12: Joyeuse - Langogne 53 m / 85 k
"The carriage-roads of the Lozère are a good preparation for
ascending Mont Blanc or the Eiffel Tower."
Matilda Betham-Edwards, The Roof of France, or the Causses of the Lozère (London, 1889), p. 274. |
Going down to breakfast is like being dropped into the middle of a Butlins full of very hungry English people. The buffet has been devastated and the noise from conversations is deafening. Then, suddenly, 10 minutes later, they all run off, fighting their way through the narrow doorway. Peace descends. The buffet is restocked and we finish our breakfast.
The climb out of Joyeuse is brutal - feels like 25%. We are surrounded by forests and camping sites. Tiny roads branch off to even tinier places and we are soon lost. The D203 was signposted when heading out of town to the west, but the road disappears. The compass keeps us going north and one of the many inhabitants in this "suburb" of Joyeuse gives us instructions which take us back onto the D203.
We are close to the route of Robert Louis Stevenson, remembering that a fully loaded mule can only climb an 8% gradient. It soon becomes obvious that he and the mule would have needed to stay on the D203 to avoid the sharper climbs. The countryside is very attractive. The many trees are changing colour and the sun is shining in a clear blue sky. We cycle past groves of chestnut trees and several humpback bridges.
The D203 is probably one of the carriage ways built in the late 17th century to clear the region of "fanatics", i.e. protestants. It is in fairly bad condition and I wonder if it has been repaired since then. However, it is very quiet with only one car passing in either direction every 4 minutes, except in the kilometre between the villages of Valgorge and St Martin.
This is now the start of the Col de Meyrand according to G.'s gradient profile. However, 5 kilometres before, we had passed a homemade sign noting the start of the climb - and according to me we have been steadily climbing since Joyeuse! The Mont Ventoux hovers on the very distant horizon - G., with his excellent eyesight, can see its faint bulk while I only see a smudge on the horizon. The climb is harder than the profile would suggest and the road surface is the sort that "eats energy". However, the views are wonderful and sufficiently distracting. One can see several mountain ranges in the distance, the Cantal, the Alps, Languedoc and the Rhone Valley. Autumnal colours dominate the landscape.
We are barely passed, on our way up, by a motor-scooter which is going at the speed of a fast cyclist. The man on the back has calf muscles which indicate that he has done his share of mountain cycling. When we get to the top I realise he is blind and his daughter is providing a running commentary. They get off at the top and she leads him to the viewing platform. [photo]
We reach the Atlantic - Mediterranean watershed at the foot of the Col du Pendu on the D19. [photo] Just after crossing the col (which is a shorter climb than expected, but 8% rather than the advertised 5% gradient), we see the weird landscape of volcanic mountains to the NE, the Mt Mézenc and the cone-shaped Gerbier de Jonc which is the source of the Loire. The Col de la Chavade (another Atlantic - Mediterranean watershed) is my favourite of the day since we cross it while going downhill.
In Langogne, after a pleasant ride along the very quiet valley of the Espezonnette into the Lozère département, we visit the striking 10th-century church made of sandstone and volcanic materials. The first chapel, immediately to the right as you enter the church is sunken and has an 11th century statue of the Virgin and Child, supposedly from Rome. It is known as "Our Lady of Infinite Power". Wall paintings of plants provide some colour but it is the decorated capitals which are most interesting, especially the one representing "lust". We enjoy views of the 16th-century Les Halles (first used for a cattle market, now for corn) while we sip beer and read some of Stevenson's account.
The town appears to have seen better days and is rather down at heel. Despite this, the atmosphere is pleasant and everyone we meet is friendly. There is no "tourist fatigue" here! We have a most enjoyable dinner in a small family run restaurant, Le Boulodrome, near our cavernous Logis de France hotel, La Poste. A large salad is followed by a delicious veal stew with lentils and green beans. A good selection of cheeses (which are left at our table for us to choose from) is followed by fruit sorbets. A small bird flies through the window, hops around, then heads for the bar.
On the way to the restaurant, in the back streets of Langogne, we hear a loud, lugubrious howling sound. It must be a descendant of the infamous "Beast of Gévaudan" which terrorized a large part of the Auvergne in the 1760s.
Day 13: Langogne - Le Puy-en-Velay 35.2 m / 56.5 k
The N88 narrows as it goes through Langogne past our hotel. The packs of 16-wheeler trucks remind us that we are on the major North/South and East/West axis. We count the trucks as we eat breakfast in the large bar and decide there aren't too many to make the road unpleasant. We therefore stay on the N88 until we are up and over the Col du Rayol, with a romantic view of Langogne and the long ribbon of early morning mist that marks the course of the River Allier. A wide green plateau dotted with cows appears to hang in mid-air. Pradelles, a "prettiest village" with nearly empty boulangerie shelves, has a better stocked grocery store which gives us a rather odd mix of provisions for the day. We happily turn off the increasingly busy but quite tolerable N88 at le Rayol into St Paul de Tartas.
The roads are in good condition with lots of up and down. We are passing through land created by volcanoes and it is interesting to view the different types of land formation from various angles. The horse-shoe shaped valleys are the most obvious feature. Wild flowers abound. Lilac crocuses carpet green meadows. Eagles dot the sky, while most houses seem to have a sleeping dog on the doorstep. The churches are unusually wide and squat with no steeples. Instead, there is a wall with niches for 3 or 4 bells rising above the entrance way. In this sparsely populated region the bells had to be heard from a very great distance, so more than one was necessary. Itinerant bell-founders went through the region in the 18th and 19th centuries.
We wonder if we have gone back in time when we come across two women, busy talking and washing clothes in a large stone trough at the top of a sun drenched plain (just after Freycenet). Friendly greetings are exchanged before they get back to their scrubbing. Just before this we stop for a second breakfast next to the very young river Loire meandering below Arlempdes, a "prettiest village" built on volcanic outcrops. Lovely views, fresh air and warming sunshine mark this idyllic spot. Against the sky can be seen the outline of a tiny chapel, built of red volcanic rock and fragments of a château. [photo] A short but steep climb brings us out of the valley onto a plateau which provides us with equally good views of this tiny village.
We cycle past fields of freshly ploughed dark soil and cream-coloured cows, and through the village of Le Brignon, with its church and bell-cote, typical of the Auvergne [photo]. Soon we are looking down on a patchwork of colour - red apple trees ready for harvest, green meadows and forests tinted orange. There is almost no traffic until three miles outside Le Puy-en-Velay. The ever-busier road is also on a long descent so not too bad.
The town is dominated by secondary schools. Most of the children are bussed into this town from distant hamlets where the elementary school often has fewer than a dozen students aged 5 - 11. The one-room school house with a lone teacher is still alive and well in this under-populated region.
region. (See the wonderful documentary by Nicolas Philibert: Etre et avoir (2002), about the village school at Saint-Etienne-sur-Usson, 10 miles south-west of Cunlhat, as the crow flies.)
Le Puy, which is an official starting point for the Route de Compostelle, attracts pilgrims who also come to see the Black Virgin, said to have been revealed during the Revolution as a statue of Isis brought back from the Crusades. ("A new black virgin has been inaugurated, but it has been proved that she is apocryphal and performs fewer miracles than the old one": George Sand, Le Marquis de Villemer, 1860.) Le-Puy-en-Velay is dominated by a large statue of "Mary and the Child", made of cast iron (but looking like red sandstone). A massive cathedral, rather misshapen by the many additions over the centuries, is more attractive from the interior.
Le Puy-en-Velay is big and busy so is a bit of a shock after one of our quietest days on the road. We are still following Stevenson's route but in much better weather than he experienced.
Exhausted, I take a nap. It has been a short but strenuous day. Dinner revives me. Cucumber soup with goat's cheese is refreshing. This is followed by beef stew à la provençale and dauphinois potatoes. Cheese includes the local Fourme (a blue cheese) and a local Côte d'Auvergne wine made with the Gamay grape. The hotel is fine.
"Gypsum and limestone abound; and the whole country
is volcanic; the very meadows are on lava: everything,
in a word, is either the product of fire, or has been
disturbed or tossed about by it. [...] The mountain,
covered with its conical town [Le Puy] crowned by a
vast rock, with those of St. Michael and of Polignac,
form a most singular scene. The road is a noble one,
formed of lava and pozzolana. The adjacent declivities
have a strong disposition to run into basaltic pentagons
and sexagons; the stones put up in the road, by way of
posts, are parts of basaltic columns. [...] Chestnut
trees spread in every quarter, and cover with luxuriance
of vegetation rocks apparently so naked that earth seems
a stranger. This beautiful tree is known to delight in
volcanic soils and situations."
Arthur Young, Travels in France
and Italy, 17-19 August 1789. |
Day 14: Le Puy-en-Velay - Cunlhat 62.2 m / 99 k
Our breakfast entertainment at the Hôtel Bristol is provided by a group of British motorcyclists who don't know how many people are in their group. Repeated and very slow counting up to 16, then 17 finally leads to some agreement with the hotel owner who knows exactly how many people ate and slept in his hotel.
We soon lose track of the number of cars on the fairly busy N102 road climbing out of Le Puy. There is no shoulder so it feels rather dangerous, especially when a third of the traffic is big trucks which create a personal wind tunnel for cyclists. We quickly rise above Le Puy and look down on the statue of Mary, rising like a candle from a cone-shaped cake in the early morning mist and sunshine. The rather funny postcard picture of this town now makes perfect sense from this angle. [photo]
We turn off near Polignac, which is our last "village perched on a volcanic plug". It looks most interesting and I am tempted by the description in the Michelin guide which notes that the rock has been known since Roman times when it was the site of a temple dedicated to Apollo and famous for the pronouncement of oracles. The pilgrim (Emperor Claudius visited it 47 times) would place his offerings in a room where he said his wishes aloud. Unknown to him, these were heard in the temple by the priests through a funnel carved through the rock. By the time the pilgrim was at the top of the hill, the priests had prepared their answers. These were announced to the pilgrim by means of a megaphone which made it appear as if words were coming out of the giant mask of Apollo. (Michelin, Auvergne & Rhone Valley, p.282.) We decide not to seek an answer to our many questions.
Chestnut and other deciduous trees are replaced by tall thin pine trees. Red kites wheel above our heads, whistling to each other. Col de la Croix de l'Arbre's ascent after St Paulien goes on for a long time but when we finally descend we find ourselves in another region - the Forez Mountains. We go past a former spa village (now a holiday camp looking depressingly like a boot camp) with a railway line going through the centre. The train is now part of an extensive "tourist" route. A restored village (according to the official sign) is high above the road, hidden amongst the trees. A restored humpback bridge further along provides us with the perfect lunch spot. It doesn't go anywhere and is covered in grass but is at least straddling the Dorette River.
It is very quiet and the only sign of life is row upon row of extremely long straight tree trunks being sprayed with water. A narrow and winding steep descent takes us through cool forests. We are following the Dore River, which is heading for the Atlantic (now that we have passed the watershed). Then suddenly we are in Ambert with its circular town hall. We walk around it while we eat some lunch and wonder whether we should stay or go on. We decide to cycle a bit further since it is only 2pm and the town feels rather dull. G visits the Tourist Office, conveniently situated next to this round Hôtel de Ville and is told there is another hotel just before the top of Col des Fourches, our third col of the day. It is only 5 miles away and we are still feeling energetic.
We climb out of Ambert, going past a dolmen which has been peering down on the town for thousands of years. As we turn a steep corner we hear clapping and look over to see a family, lingering over a late lunch, watching our slow progress uphill! [photo]
Of course, it is more than 5 miles away, and when we finally reach the hotel it turns out to be "closed exceptionally, due to illness". We have wasted a certain amount of energy turning off and climbing steeply into a village, le Monestier, which was at the 5-mile point. A statue of Mary rises above the allotments.
Our only option is to continue to the next hotel which is 12 miles away - and up the Col de Toutée. Heat from the baking sun makes me impatient and I find myself racing to stay ahead of a
large truck. Or maybe I am more fit, now that we have done 30 cols? Or perhaps it is the excitement of having completed 1000 kilometres? Certainly, I am relieved to find that the hotel in Cunlhat, the Commerce (no television, hence no stars) can provide us with a room. It is not en suite but at least we have a bed! It is a very friendly place. The ancient hotel dog quietly patrols the street outside. The ancient woman across the road waters her thousand geraniums, and the ancestor of the woman who runs the hotel stares down in her black clothes from above the stone fireplace. We enjoy our evening, especially the delicious meal. A large salad of various vegetables is followed by a full-flavoured coq au vin and macaroni (G has pork with fresh peaches). Châteaugay, a local wine, goes well with the local cheeses. (Cunlhat is pronounced qu'une ya.)
Day 15: Cunlhat - Vichy 47.1 m / 75.1 k
We begin the day by cycling between two mountain ranges, the Livradois and the Forez. After climbing into Thiers, a town spread out over several hillsides, we descend onto a plain. The soil has become very sandy, a remnant of the Allier and Dore rivers which once covered this area as one waterway (so, not surprising that their confluence is nearby). The countryside is unremarkable but very pleasant with many houses showing off pretty flower gardens. We go past lots of farms and semi-deserted towns. Pine forests are replaced by deciduous trees, mostly poplars.
On the border of the Allier département, the road is being mended, but the workmen wave us past. As usual, the Road Blocked sign means "quiet road ahead for cyclists and pedestrians".
However, five miles from Vichy the road becomes very busy and rather ugly.
The room at the Nice-Flore hotel is on the ground floor, immediately outside a narrow side garden, surrounded by a high stone wall. The French doors are the windows so it is rather difficult to have air and privacy at the same time. The walls are extremely thin but fortunately the inhabitants spend most of their time sleeping when not taking "the waters". Afternoon snoring seems to be the norm.
It is a very hot and sunny day so we head for the cool, covered Art Nouveau styled walkways which wind between green parks dotted with cafés and massive glass-roof conservatories providing various water treatments. [photo] It is all very "turn of the century" but is still crowded, mostly with those of the "third age" and/or people with some form of arthritis. Later in the afternoon, a group of young women with no obvious health problems are seen taking the treatment. We have fun exploring the various water sources. One is so hot it is bubbling over and covered for safety. We don't pay to drink the four different waters but instead opt for a beer. The town feels very wealthy and for the first time I see Parisian styles of dress and greater formality.
Between shops selling shampooing services for lap dogs, there are numerous candy shops and only one boulangerie. Lingerie is more widely available than épicerie.
In our hunt for a snack we wander amongst grandiose 1890-1920 style houses. Most of these places are closing down or renting rooms at a cheap rate. A plaque at the Palais des Congrès alluding to the end of the Third Republic is a very subtle reminder of the town's disgraceful past and strongly conservative bent: no one would guess from this vague memorial that Vichy was the seat of the Pétain régime. We sit on a bandstand surrounded by Emile Robert designed wrought-iron balustrades decorated with musical notes. Chestnut trees provide shade in the Parc des Sources. We sit for a long time in the Le Grand Café, the place to be seen, even now. Vichy is not at all like the surrounding towns. It seems to be rather lost in another time. There are advertisements for brass band musical events and it is a popular place for reunions of elderly military officers.
Our dinner restaurant, the Grignan, is in the square where Mme de Sévigné lived. Terrine de canard is followed by "two fish in a sauce", an attractive but rather dull tasting carrot & turnip mousse, potato in the shape of the Puy de Dôme, cheese, etc. We return before 10 pm but our hotel restaurant is in the dark and all the water-drinkers are in bed, peacefully rattling the window-panes with their snoring.
Click here for Part Three
Click here for photographs
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