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Day 16: Vichy - Moulins 42 m / 68 k
We wake exhausted. I have the beginning of a sore throat. Groan. Breakfast is complicated for me by the absence of cups and the proliferation of different types of bowls. I manage to put my cereal in the bowl which is supposed to be for tea/coffee. Rather old-fashioned, as are the local residents who have settled in for a long chat over breakfast about how much better it used to be. Occasionally, the conversation will be interrupted by someone returning from a treatment holding a plastic bag full of goodies. An open book in a glass case boasts "the true recipe for Vichy carrots". It is a historically interesting place but we are glad to be leaving.
Getting out of Vichy is nearly as unpleasant as entering it (the end of the morning rush hour) but at least we are out of it after 3 miles. We are now in rolling countryside and the soil is darker and heavier. Turreted gates, towers and conical roofs mark out the increasingly common large fortified farms. A 16th-century chateau, Les Ecossais, is proof that this region of France was settled by Scots who were given land by King Charles VII for their mercenary services against the English. [photo]
The route takes us through lovely forests, meadows munched by beige coloured cows and recently shorn sheep. At Verneuil we stop for a lengthy lunch on a bench across from a school run by a single teacher. Children aged 7 - 11 are being lead in a complicated route which involves climbing along then over the school wall. They are all well-behaved and happy!
The quiet roads continue most of the way to Moulins. [photo] We briefly explore the town and note that all the museums we wish to visit are within a few yards of each other. There is no entrance fee because it is the "weekend of the patrimoine". The town is attractive, friendly and just the right size for a rest day. Our hotel room at Le Parc near the station overlooks a garden with a statue of the poet Théodore de Banville. Dinner in the hotel restaurant is very good but the waitresses seem to be part of a rural regeneration scheme.
Day 17: Moulins (rest day)
A Madonna and Child statue on loan from the Louvre, and an ivory carved Madonna and Child statue made from a single tusk are the best works in the Museum of Archaeology and Art. The museum is housed in a beautiful Renaissance building (claiming to be the first in France) so is worth visiting for that reason alone.
The Cathedral houses a famous Triptych by the "Master of Moulins". It is protected from light and large crowds but it means you can look at it only for a limited period of time, courtesy of a local guide who provides an emotional commentary. The vivid colours and expressions on the faces make it easy to shut out the chatter.
The "Musée Bourbonnais" is housed in several 15th-17th century buildings. There are four divisions and we want to look at the folklore section. Unfortunately, due to this being a patrimoine day, only the religious art section is open. We don't realise this until we have survived a very long and tedious tour of religious relics. The guide is from Paris and is very knowledgeable, but it is hard to maintain an interest in nun's needlework, which is astoundingly detailed but lacking in artistic interest. It reminds us of the hair art in the Salt Lake City Museum. Whole lives - with a brief hiatus, courtesy of the Revolution - swallowed up by pictures made of postage-stamps or microscopic beads.
To bring us back to life we go around the corner to stare at the clock tower, waiting for the husband and wife automata to come out to beat the bell with their mallet (on the hour) or the two small children, who similarly strike a bell on the quarter hour.
The evening is spent at Le Cours enjoying an excellent dinner. The service is as brilliant as the courgette soup, chicken terrine with lemon, veal and vegetables, a chocolate dessert and St Pourçain wine.
Day 18: Moulins - Bourges 74 m / 119 k
A bad night for both of us due to my fully developed cold. However, the holiday must go on! While I buy food, Graham watches Sunday cyclists flying past on yet another lovely day. The very pleasant countryside continues the themes of the day before - farmland with cows and sheep, an increasing number of châteaux with turreted round towers, gates and fortress farmyards. There is more undulation but a fairly strong wind is behind us and we are able to maintain a good speed. The hills are heaven sent - if you tuck in on the downhill it gets you a good 2/3 of the way up the next hill. Using this method we go up lots of hills but rarely have to switch to lower gears.
We stop in the Forêt de Tronçais to see a well - the Rond de Viljot - where pins used to be dropped by young girls. If the pin stuck in the mud then they would be married. [photo] This is not an unusual theme! The locals are out in great number eating picnics or hunting for mushrooms, yet there is almost no traffic. A horse and cart moving at a fast pace is distracting enough to prevent me from noticing a pothole. There is no obvious damage to the wheel rim, but my back brake, though still effective, is quite thumpy ever afterwards.
Churches are square with wide squat towers to hold a series of bells. Most seem to be from the 11th - 12th centuries. This area is close to the centre of France (measured in various ways, so that at least three different villages claim the honour). In one village we pass through there is plaque on the church door noting that it was spared destruction during the Revolution by the local women who protected the church with their bodies.
About 20 miles before Bourges the landscape becomes rather dull - huge fields, no animals, no shade and long straight roads which continue far into the distance. [photo] We are now in Berry, the region of George Sand. Bourges, though big, is quiet on this Sunday afternoon. Long stretches of suburban road are marked green for cyclists. We finally find an impersonal hotel near the rail station. Restaurants are scarce so we trade French cuisine for Italian pasta and the pleasure of eating outside on this warm day.
Day 19: Bourges (rest day)
We wake to a slightly cooler, cloudier day with a few scattered showers. The American style hotel serves breakfast in the restaurant which, perhaps because of disagreement among the decorators, has a Chinese-Tibetan-American-Wild-West-British-pub appearance. Odd. The maid throws away our non-official water bottles carefully collected in Berlin during August. We should be grateful that she didn't throw away our toothbrushes as happened in Paris. This is not a Logis de France hotel!
The 13th-16th century cathedral is fantastic. We sit outside trying to see when each section was added. Over an hour is spent inside admiring the exceptional stained glass windows. Many of them were sponsored (in the 13th century) by selected trades. The corner of the window shows carpenters, tanners, cobblers or masons at their trade. It is worth coming to Bourges just for the windows. The deep and vivid colours and expressive characters from common and obscure (to a 21st-century eye) Bible stories are enthralling. An astrological clock still records the different times of day based on the time of year.
We explore the interior of a large 15th-century hotel (town house) which now houses an art museum devoted to Esteve, a local artist from the early 20th century. The most interesting display shows the stages he went through over a 3-year period to complete one work. There is the visual record of his thinking but also a tactile version where each colour is represented by a different width, depth and texture. In contrast to his modern art is a 15th century carving over one of the doorways of a mother, a sleeping dog and two boys playing roughly with each other.
In the Musée du Berry we see examples of local dress, house and farm implements, etc. I am struck by the thickness and strength of the cloth used to make both male and female garments from this region in the 19th century. Leggings kept out the worst of the dirt when walking from place to place. The amazing array of tools needed to make one pair of wooden clogs fills an entire display wall. Photos and models of a typical farm always show a large dung heap in the centre. Flies must have had a great life back then.
Walking around Bourges is a real delight on this "sans voiture" (no car) day. Since before dawn (as one of the workers complains), grass has been laid over narrow cobbled roads normally blocked by the automobile. It makes the cobbles comfortable to walk on and small children are finally free to run and play rather than being admonished because they might get in the way of a car! [photo] It is easy to explore the centre and we are amazed by the quantity and quality of 16th-century buildings. One of our favourites is the home of Jacques Coeur, with a stone carving of him leaning out of window while his wife leans out of the other above their well decorated stone entrance way. [photo] There are smaller buildings from the Renaissance as well as Roman ruins at the back of some gardens.
Unfortunately, it would be hard to enjoy all this if you weren't there on the annual "sans ma voiture" day. At 7pm cars were allowed back in and even though we only had to walk four blocks to the restaurant, it became quite a nightmare dodging cars and flattening ourselves against walls so that we were not hit by them on these narrow medieval streets.
We have dinner in a very small gourmet restaurant, the Clé des Brumes. Lovely decor with each item carefully selected, e.g. Japanese embroidered napkins, the matching of fabric colours with the furniture and the walls. The prices are rather high so we decide to go for the cheapest menu. This also gives us the opportunity to try pigs' trotters (first and last time). Before the main course we enjoy a vegetable terrine and afterwards we have goat's cheese and walnut oil coated greens followed by a delicious peach soup for dessert. Ties are worn, as in Moulins - an unusual sight since we started our journey.
Day 20: Bourges - Blois 81 m / 129.2 k
The bikes have to be retrieved from a locked garage a 5-minute walk from the hotel. We are charged for the first night of cycle storage because the evening receptionist only knows how to follow the rules of the hotel chain thought up in some distant city or country where bikes do not exist. Fortunately, a chat with the day-time hotel manager allows us to have the cycle storage for free on the second night. One doesn't usually have this problem in France.
We decide on an early start and it is barely light when we leave on the rather frightening main road, the D940 (to save time). I am feeling drained and tired by my persistent cold which has turned into a dry cough. At least G knows when I am nearby...
We get off the busy road just before St Martin-d'Auxigny where we buy food for the day. One of the shops is selling a pastry labelled "Les Ecossais" (a feuilletée filled with cheese and ham). Apple orchards ready for harvesting cover the hillsides of our only ascent for the day. The countryside changes gradually over the course of the day. Scraggly, privately owned woods marked "no entry" are frequent as we enter the flat and sparsely populated Sologne. Later, huge estates with ponds, bird parks and attractive châteaux dominate the landscape. Even the water towers are given a turret to make them look, from a distance, like ancient medieval towers.
Twelve miles before Blois we turn off onto an even smaller road which takes us through woods, well kept and refreshingly cool. A bridge with a bike path takes us over the Loire into this very busy town. [photo] Our balcony at the Hôtel de France gives us a direct view of the château which is now in deep shadow. Noise from the traffic forces us inside.
A fantastic restaurant, in the former Orangerie, provides us with one of our best dinners (and most expensive!). Since Moulins we have been enjoying the regular habit in northern France of giving one a "taster" ("amuse-gueule" or, politely, "amuse-bouche") before the meal. A tiny mushroom soup and various canapes keep us going until the first course arrives. It is a mouth-watering selection of duck - smoked, magret and foie gras in two forms. Skate (fish) stuffed and layered with vegetables is the main course. A very light omelette, made with fourme d'Ambert cheese is served on toast. Finally, we have a raspberry extravaganza with cookies and meringues to follow. We do manage to waddle back to the hotel across the road.
Day 21: Blois - Le Mans 73 m / 118.5 k
I wake up wondering how we are going to do seventy-four miles after yesterday's eighty-one miles?! Fortunately, leaving Blois is very easy and we are soon onto small roads. A strong wind is behind us, sometimes, and the terrain has a roll to it. We are accompanied by a very friendly and talkative local cyclist until St Amand-Longpré. He feels unusual as a French cyclotouriste who travels on his own, looks forward to cycling home against the wind, and recommends that we go cycling in the Morvan. When he goes on to visit a friend at Montoire and we stop to shop. Every person I meet is exceptionally friendly and helpful and I am sorry to leave this small town full of the glow of human kindness!
We pass by attractive châteaux, copses of silvery birches and lambs resting in the shade. The farmland is being harvested, generally by large rumbling machinery, but once I see an older woman with a scythe in the middle of a field. Chestnut trees make a reappearance towards the end of the day. We cycle past ruined castles sitting stolidly on hilltops awaiting visits by tourists. Crossing the Loir at Troo [photo], we climb to the plateau on the edge of the Sarthe. We stop at Courtanvaux to admire a small château which was owned by a governess of the King.
We see the cathedral of Le Mans from a distance. G has chosen a route (via Changé and the Abbaye de l'Epau) which allows us to sneak into the centre. The city is big and hectic. There are no hotels in the Old Town so we have to settle for what appears to have been a former nursing home, the Hôtel Levasseur. A rather dim and unhelpful woman manages to check us in and is finally persuaded that our bicycles will not "get in the way of the cars" in a massive underground car park. The room is depressing but at least it is quiet. We escape upwards to the Old Town to find a restaurant. We end up in an underground cavern surrounded by students, the Auberge des Sept Plats. The food is cheap and cheerful and sufficiently filling to last us until the morning.
Day 22: Le Mans - Bagnoles-de-l'Orne 62.5 m / 102.3 k
Having cycled all the way into this big city, it seemed a waste not to visit a few sites so we return to the Old Town to see the menhir on the west front of the cathedral. In the fresh light of day (and having survived breakfast), the attractions of the cathedral district are more obvious. Unlike most medieval centres, this one hasn't been "regenerated" so it is easier to get a sense of what it was like in earlier centuries. An attractive selection of Renaissance buildings are slowly crumbling but restoration seems to be imminent. We have great views from this height. In order to get down quickly we end up carrying our bikes (with luggage) down the 100+ steps to Pont Yssoire. Below us we can see a bike lane on the Avenue Wilbur Wright. We come out below very tall, wide ramparts made of red brick, decorated in patterns of white stone.
Within 10 minutes we are out of Le Mans. Twenty minutes later there is no traffic. The Sarthe department smells of pigs, has scrappy unattractive woods and impoverished farms. Cows munch at grass on the side of steep meadows. Colour is provided by the burnished orange pumpkins in every garden and by the dark blue overalls and smocks worn by all the people we pass. The land undulates so that one is continually changing gears.
But it all comes right after Sillé-le-Guillaume (silly billy) where we shop and clean the bikes before entering the Mayenne department. We are now cycling through well maintained forests. The undulations are steep but steadier so it is easier to get into a rhythm. The countryside is much prettier and we have views over a huge plain divided into different coloured patches. We take a photo of the massive chapel at St Germain de Coulamer [photo].
We continually pass by signs to places named "St xxx du Désert", for example "St Maurice du Désert", possibly dedicated ages ago to the god Mars. But the countryside no longer resembles any sort of "desert" or uncultivated land. We have wonderful views of the distant green plateau from ridge-way roads. We know we have arrived in the Alpes Mancelles when we have a three-kilometre climb to the summit of the Col de St Sulpice [photo]. Unlike the "real" Alps, the Alpes Mancelles show us only half a dozen cyclists towards the end of the day. One is a VTT cyclist on what looks like a prehistoric track. We cycle our 1000th mile today and it certainly feels like it!
We enter Bagnoles-de-l'Orne through some very pretty woods on a nearly traffic free road. (The D387 through the Forêt des Andaines ends at the busy road to Mayenne and Laval, but there is a discreet track on the other side that serves as a bike path.)
This small, compact town has retained a relaxed holiday feel. Despite its popularity it has not been overrun with traffic (at least in late September) and it is easy to move about between the shops, restaurants and hotels. We walk along the lake and through the well-manicured flower gardens, past the health clinic (now rather forlorn) and the usual flashy casino. Other than the spa waters, the town is also known for its surrounding rugged cliffs. Our hotel backs onto the "Roc au chien", which is also the name of the hotel. The room is on the top floor with views of the river and lake on one side and the forested rock face on the other. [photo] The bathroom is in a large turret, with bath tub centre stage. Multiple windows provide a panoramic view of slowly moving retired people coming and going for their health treatment down the road.
We try a regional drink - Pommeau, an aperitif made of calvados and apple juice. It is quite pleasant, unlike the local speciality, andouillette sausage, which we manage to avoid by carefully selecting our restaurant, La Potinière.
Day 23: Bagnoles-de-l'Orne - Goupillières 49 m / 78 k
The morning begins with easy cycling through farmland. Thin, tall granite spires marking distant villages remind me of Brittany. A large official sign marks an unknown new col. [photo] It promotes itself as being on the watershed between the Atlantic and the North Sea (subsequently found to be a "fake" - this is an apparently common trick in some départements to attract more cyclists to the region). More easily verifiable is a megalith, standing between two trees, which has had a Christian cross cleverly carved on four sides. [photo]
This region had many of its towns completely destroyed during WWII. One example of this - the first we come across, going north - is St Pierre du Regard, where every building is obviously post-1945. The cycling becomes harder as the day progresses.
La Suisse Normande is very pretty, though nothing like Switzerland. We have extensive views over wide plains. At one point, descending from St Martin de Sallen (another col) [photo], after the St Joseph chapel, we can see Caen, which is only 15 miles away. Kites and eagles hover overhead. We take a slight detour on the kilometre circuit of the Boucle du Hom, around an oxbow lake in the making. Cows and horses graze on the pancake flat pastures by the river Orne. Granite cliffs encircle us. We are now crossing one of our former cycle routes as we head for Goupillières to a hotel in the depths of the Suisse Normande. Our room at the Hôtel du Pont de Brie is on two floors and we have to climb to the mezzanine to get to our bed. All muscles ache.
The same family is running this very restful Logis de France and the food is as good as we remembered. Terrine de l'auberge is followed by veal and potato dauphinois, cheese and a very fruity apple cake.
Day 24: Goupillières - Le Havre 71.8 m / 115.5 k
We sip hot tea and coffee as we look out to a very misty morning. A steep ascent, just outside the hotel, to Bretteville, warms us up. It is yet another friendly town and provides us with yet another day's provisions. The first climb is nearly our last with the change in landscape. We are now on a plateau which extends for miles and miles and provides us with gentle undulations and/or nearly flat roads. The route is sufficiently complex to require regular map reading but the cycling is easy and there is no traffic. It is sunny, the blue sky is full of billowing clouds, a light wind presses us forward and it is warm. Ideal for our last full day of cycling!
We have been near, but never been through, the Pays d'Auge and I am struck by how charming and idyllic it appears. It is full of half-timbered houses, large dovecotes, small hamlets ablaze with autumnal flower displays and well-stocked vegetable gardens. The last of the tomatoes contrast with the deep orange of giant pumpkins. Well maintained copses mark the transition between villages. Horses, rather than cows, graze on the large pastures. We stop at a gate looking onto an empty field. The sound of rustling bags (a boring selection of energy bars, yogurt and a few nuts) attracts a group of very young racehorses. They prance about rather nervously but are eventually bold enough to smell and lick the bike saddles.
A steep ascent to an escarpment overlooking the Dives Valley and Caen should provide a good view from the "Chapelle de Clermont Panorama" but a beech forest is in the way. We continue through two "prettiest villages". Beuvron-en-Auge has been "done up" and is full of cars from every nation here to see what used to be a charming village. Clermont-en-Auge, further on, is still functioning as a village and so has retained some character. Avoid the first and enjoy the second, would be our advice.
After a short and painless stretch on the D579 after Tourville, tiny back roads (see the itinerary) bring us all the way down to the port of Honfleur via the suburbs, perched on steep slopes. We stop only briefly to admire the public library building, a former ruin protected and encased in glass. Last time we were here we saw the Pont de Normandie from our hotel room, twinkling in the twilight. Today we are crossing the bridge which is 5 miles in length and 215 metres high. [photo]
The signposting for cyclists heading for the bridge begins on the edge of Honfleur and is very clear. We have our own lane on the bridge itself (which is free for cyclists). The wind is light so we can enjoy the views down the Seine estuary and up to the web-like elegant steel girders. We get off at the first possible exit. It is clearly signposted for cyclists. This takes us along a very long straight deserted road running alongside an equally deserted rail line (but it is a Sunday so perhaps unusual?). This is the white road south of "Canal du Havre" on the Michelin map. On one side are hundreds of massive containers painted in dull primary colours. Across the channel of water, to the left, is a green forest.
The idyllic day ends as we enter the outskirts of Le Havre. It is run-down, noisy, crowded with slow moving traffic, seedy and unattractive. The port was destroyed during WWII and its rebuilding in the 1950s and 1960s was celebrated as a triumph at the time. Hot and tired, we endure the six long miles of cycling through the town until we finally arrive at a part with hotels we might consider. We cycle another two miles, in circles, before we finally agree on the first hotel we had on our list, the Celtic [photo]. It turns out to be very pleasant with a friendly caretaker who helps us with our bikes and points out a possible restaurant.
Averaging 69 miles a day over the last 6 days has left us tired and shattered and Le Havre isn't the best way to end the holiday. (We had hoped to sail from Caen, but the sailing times were unsuitable.) Was this tour over-ambitious? Maybe the Oracle could tell us?...
Day 25: Le Havre - home 15.6 m / 25.2 k
We have no problems finding the port. For the first time we are offered a covered lane for bikes and motorbikes - a nice feature in case of rain. The ferry isn't crowded and it is soothing to watch the sun, clouds and sea roll past. I am enjoying this relaxing conclusion to our holiday and am even looking forward to a nap on the train ride home.
How foolish! I should have anticipated that there would be no train service from one of the main ports in Britain - well, as least not for children in prams,
disabled people in wheelchairs or cyclists on bikes! [photo]
Having found the Portsmouth rail station (a challenge due to the lack of signposting soon after the port), we are told that the train has been replaced by a bus. If we actually want a train we will have to cycle north to the fifth station on the line at Havant. We have no map of Portsmouth but G manages, just, to get one from the surly "not-my-responsibility" ticket seller who suggests we cycle to Havant on the motorway by-pass... With the help of the compass and G's map reading, we head through Portsmouth on residential streets (where possible) to the town of Havant. Frustratingly, the price of the ticket is the same. Three changes and many hours later than anticipated, we arrive home to large piles of mail, a late dinner, a hot bath and our own bed. Exhausted, I fall asleep with visions of glaciers and mountains, the intense smell of fresh thyme and the friendly calls of "bonjour".
Margaret Robb
22 November 2003
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