|
Day 11: Bielle - Navarrenx 81 k
We begin the day with a quick run into Bielle, a tiny hamlet with a flashy but nearly empty boulangerie and a small grouping of 15-16th century houses. According to local legend, Marie-Blanque was a fair-skinned poetess who was in much demand as a singer at funerals. The col is said to be named after her, presumably because she had to cross it so often. We start climbing it just outside of Bielle. If I were her, I would have chosen to go up this way as it has much kinder gradients (excepting the last 4 kilometres which claim an 8-9% average but which are memorable as stretches of 12-17%). It is also easier to enjoy the idyllic open pastureland of the plateau, over half-way up and nearly flat, where mares and their foals cross the road in front of us. Cyclists are all around, riding, resting, chatting and, as we descend, struggling up the much steeper side. G records his fastest downhill speed - 70 kph / 44mph!
We have been in this region before and I remember, with trepidation, the challenge of getting through the Basque hills. Having just survived the Pyrenees, one expects some easier cycling. In many ways, it is more difficult because one is continually going up and down 300 metres. However, this time we are a tad further east and it is much easier!
Aramits has been on our route since we found (on the Internet) that it had a bike washing service station at the Baretous camping site. A hose spraying soapy water and then plain water costs 1 euro for a minute and thirty seconds. It works very well, as does the bike stand. It also has a set of tools, an Internet service and clean bathrooms - all for free. [PHOTO]
We are now on a plain, following the course of the river Oloron and the cycling is easy. We pass through Féas, which now has a bilingual school (French and Béarnais). A hunt for Cagot fonts is turning into another wild goose chase. It is 111 F/ 44C, hot from above and hot from below. The baking tarmac is roasting my bare legs. We roll into Navarrenx, like dry-roasted peanuts. At the end of town, under shady plane trees is a lively café. Cool drinks sit invitingly on the table tops. It is our hotel - what luck! The water we pour out of our bottles is hot enough to bathe in - no wonder it was difficult to drink. Even outside in the shade it is 30C. We settle in for some cold beers, then dinner, unable to move for many hours, admiring the remains of the fortifications with our fellow guests from Australia (hiking), Switzerland (walking), America (fishing) and France.
All day we have been following up textual references to Cagot fonts in churches and failing to find any. There is no reference to the church in Navarrenx but we visit it nevertheless. We not only find a Cagot door and font but there is an explanatory plaque in both French and English!
Day 12: Navarrenx- Hagetmau 83 k
We wake to grey skies and what feels like a cool and muggy day - a mere 86F. It reminds me of Nashville on a very early July morning. We make our way through the usual traffic jam, all within a ½ kilometre radius of town. Once outside the town limits, the roads are empty. For several long stretches we are on a lovely ridge-style road (D2) shaded by plane trees. Only two cars pass us in either direction over the course of the 19 kilometre ride to Monein.
The shock of crowds on this busy market day has us scuttling to the cool calm interior of the enormous church in Monein. We weave our way past men wearing berets and women clutching heavy wicker baskets, all chatting to each other. The church contains a Cagot face and a crouching Cagot figure. The presence of a separate Cagot door is recorded in the printed notice near the entrance.
This brief rest comes just before the sharp climbs begin. I am reminded that we are crossing a Pyrenean valley today, rather than following a river valley as we did yesterday. The road surface for most the day is atrocious. It has been grated and sprinkled, to a varying depth, by loose gravel. This would appear to be in preparation for the final coating, except it has been this way for many months. A very few stretches have proper tarmac and I wonder what the locals had to do!
The road to Orthez takes us via the "Texas" of France in the region of Mourenx where natural gas was discovered in the 1950s. Sheep and stone cottages have been replaced by petrol-chemical architecture and smells. There is a bike path / lane for the cycle-tourists going through this unattractive part of the Basque country. At least we have good views of the Pyrenees.
However, we are soon able to resume our ride through neat and tidy villages freshly painted in bright colours. At Caubin near Orthez, we stop to explore a picturesque parish church, an ancient stopping place for pilgrims on the route to Compostela. After much climbing, we welcome the slow descent to Amou where river-side picnic tables beckon. Above the low lying hills and cornfields is Brassempouy, most famous for its 1 ½ inch tall figurine of a female. It is the oldest example (250,000 years) of a carving of the human face. Unfortunately, we are too early (or too late) to visit the museum so have to settle for a rest in the large covered archway above which rises the church's massive square bell tower.
All things attractive disappear and the predicted rain, light then very heavy, dampens our mood. Hagetmau, meaning "bad beech plantation", is a moribund town crowded with cars moving slowly from one boarded-up shop to another, past the closed-down restaurant and the hotel for sale. A gigantic chair on a roundabout to the south proclaims the town's main industry. There is no option but to return to the Logis de France hotel "conveniently located" on the bleak outskirts of town. It is a modern blot on the busy main road, uninteresting but dry. Pub-style meal with introspective travelling salespeople makes for a sombre evening.
Day 13: Hagetmau - Barbotan-les-Thermes 79 k
A visit to the tourist office in the morning informs us that the neighbourhood called `Les Cagots' near our hotel was cleared of all its houses in 2004. There is nothing left to see. A cagot head that was retrieved from the ruins may be on display sometime somewhere.
The rain seems to have increased the humidity and it feels much hotter than 86F when we start cycling, up then down then up, etc. for most of the day, through the Tursan region. The continual climbs and descents are usually only 50-70 metres, but it is tiring. There is occasional relief when the road follows the side of a hill or when we are on a yellow road with easier gradients. At least the countryside is pretty. The red-tiled roofs of houses and farm buildings can be seen for miles. The Saint Loubouer viewpoint provides a panoramic view of the rural countryside - fresh green cornfields, pale Chalosse cattle and flocks of geese. Vineyards dominate our views as we enter Armagnac territory later in the day.
Eugénie-les-Bains is an odd little spa town advertising itself as "France's leading slimming village". It is full of chubby French people - a very unusual sight. Mauléon-d'Armagnac has an interesting church, nearly in ruins, with a hexagonal tower and an odd bulbous protuberance attached to one of the crumbling stone walls.
Cazaubon is most memorable for the sudden appearance of massive trucks roaring through the narrow village centre. A ridiculous road system (i.e. narrowing by installing road furniture), dangerous for cyclists and frustrating for cars, especially on a climb up a long steep slope on the D656, is the only direct way into Barbotan-les-Thermes. (Some of it could be avoided on the longer D235.) Unexpectedly, the village itself is nearly devoid of cars. Pedestrians fill the roadway, which is more like a giant sidewalk. There are dozens of good quality hotels offering inexpensive rooms and delicious meals. A woman, whose husband was a professional cyclist on the National French team (many years ago) approves of our cycling around France and wishes us well.
An excellent dinner - champagne with sun-dried tomato paste canapés, a "bloc" of foie gras with pine nuts, beautifully presented with tomato roses on deep blue glass plates is followed by confit de canard (duck) with shavings of garlic chips and green beans, prunes in armagnac with chocolate fudge cookies and butterfly shaped lemon cookies perched on similarly flavoured sorbet mousse.
Day 14: Barbotan-les-Thermes - Brocas 61 k
We awake to the clanging of metal poles and the "beep-beep" of vehicles backing-up. The weekly market is being set up just outside the hotel. We walk through the town admiring the local produce - prunes, cherries, cheeses, hams, foie gras and Armagnac. The local church is remarkable on the outside for its square bell/clock tower under which the town's main road runs. The interior, a mixture of stone and narrow brick has been repaired over so many centuries that no straight line remains.
The day is centred on a visit to the Notre-Dame des Cyclistes chapel. [PHOTO] It doesn't open until 3pm but is worth the wait. One enters the churchyard through gates made from old cycle frames. There are an altar and a Bible inside, but otherwise, it is more like a museum than a church. A gift shop, selling postcards and t-shirts, is run daily by volunteers. Jerseys donated by the stars of professional cycling provide a colourful display on the stone walls. Examples of bicycles from the 19th through the 20th centuries fill the aisles.
As the landscape levels out we start seeing a different style of architecture. The houses, constructed in a combination of brick and wood, have wide and deep porches with roofs pitched to keep the interior cool. Large green lawns and tall pine trees surround the houses. Labastide-d'Armagnac is particularly attractive and I am not surprised to learn from the woman in the cycle museum that six British families are now living here. The painted interior of the church in Roquefort, very dark and depressing, provides a striking contrast.
We are staying in a former rail station in a town with no train, or much else. Brocas is in the middle of the Landes, flat, hot, sandy and empty. The dinner is interesting, rather than delicious, but there is ample to consume. The son practises his English, learnt in a Harrogate hotel.
Day 15: Brocas - Sabres 26 k
A mere 16 miles with an average gradient of 2% makes this our easiest day! We are going to Sabres where we will catch a train to the Ecomusée, the first open-air museum created in France. The pine forest, occasionally mixed with oak, bracken and eight different types of heather, surrounds us on our cycle and train journeys.
The museum is worth a half-day visit and caters well to all age groups, from 4 to 84 years. There are no shepherds knitting on stilts (except in old photos) but we do see weaving, bread baking in an outside oven, resin harvesting, beehives made of wood and straw, a happy black pig demonstrating how to make a cooling water hole (with tiny mice peeking out from the shed floor) and several examples of Landais houses. The interior of most houses had four bedrooms, one for each of the four generations, as well as a kitchen, a living/dining room and a room for the animals. A large interior opening allows the animals to lean their heads into the living area. There is no inside toilet but a chamber pot set inside a chair is placed in the grandmother's room. She also holds the purse strings so assistance is never far away. The furniture is similar in all the houses so the only distinction between the farm labourer and the landowner is in the size of the rooms. The soil is very poor. One sheep is needed to enrich one hectare but one sheep needs the grass from one hectare to survive.
Day 16: Sabres - Roques 129 k
Our hotel provided a delicious dinner but is too "fancy" to serve breakfast very early. The anticipated heat and length of today's route impels us to leave by 7am. We are fortunate that the grocery store along a main road opens at that time. So what do we eat on this, our longest (80 miles/130 kilometres) and second hottest (42C / 108F) day? Eight fruit yogurts, 2 baguettes filled with butter and 4 slices of ham, 1 almond tart, 1 strawberry tart, 2 croissants, 200 gr of prunes, 2 bananas, 1 quiche, ½ pizza, 2 litres orange juice, 20 oz grapefruit juice, 3 scoops of ice cream, 3 litres of mineral water, 1 coke and four 750 oz bottles of water are consumed over the course of 10 hours (cycling 6 h 45m).
The first 48 kilometres / 30 miles are amazingly flat but a strong NE wind encourages us to draft behind one another, taking turns every kilometre. It provides a distraction to the pine forests which stretch out in all directions. [PHOTO] Sudden hills and traffic rear up in Roaillan. Langon is ugly, hot and crowded but the bike lane over the river Garonne is of very good quality. We are now back in rolling countryside with vineyards planted on every southern slope.
Expecting all wine châteaux to have turrets, I am unpleasantly surprised by the functional modern farm buildings masquerading as "wine châteaux". However, after Gayac, the scenery improves and we begin passing pretty hamlets and traditional châteaux (as sketched on wine labels). The bike path between Saint Brice and Branne (part of the Sauveterre-Bordeaux converted railway) has an excellent surface, good signposting, varied views, gradual gradients and pretty villages nearby.
By the time we arrive in St Émilion we look like overheated tomatoes. There are few tourists here on a late Friday afternoon so we have the attractive medieval town and an ice cream shop all to ourselves. The wine sellers, who occupy nearly every shop along the narrow winding stone roads, have retreated inside, away from the sun's heat.
We are soon retreating into the shade of our hotel room in Roques. We can't believe we are only paying 55 Euros / 40 pounds for a large room (double bed, couch with sitting area, fireplace, high ceiling, and views of vineyards) in a traditional château! It wins the award for "best hotel room" for this trip. We aren't the only ones to have found this bargain and there are many retired British couples joining us in the outside courtyard for dinner.
POITOU - LOIRE VALLEY - COTENTIN
Days 16 - 28
|
Day 17: Roques - Aubeterre-sur-Dronne 64 k
We breakfast in a wood-panelled room beneath a wide gallery. We leave before 9am but it already feels like 4pm. Another hot day.
The pretty vineyards of St Émilion soon give way to recently drained land. A few lethargic cornfields grow in white chalky soil. We buy supplies in Montpon-Ménestérol, a town boasting a collection of unattractive shopping places. The forest of la Double is pretty and green but the trees provide no shade at high noon. We climb up to the Trappist monastery outside Échourgnac, built in the 19th century for the monks who undertook the huge task of draining this formerly swampy land. We sit in the shade while listening to the sound of noon prayers.
The road is melting. The rare breeze is like a blast from a hot oven. The high humidity makes the sun lotion drip off our bodies and I am not surprised when G tells me it is 115F/46C. A record for us and a record for France. We can't cycle for more than three miles in the blinding and pulsating sunshine without a brief stop in shade.
We enter Aubeterre-sur-Dronne alongside a wide river. We can hear children playing in the water, which is now quite tepid at the end of this hot afternoon. Hot and parched, we are offered two tall glasses of ice water as soon as we enter the hotel. Aubeterre is a bilingual community and this hotel is a perfect example with a French husband and English wife running the business. As we walk around the town we hear as much English as French and everyone seems comfortable and happy with the mixture. A cat is cooling itself at a window. [PHOTO] Half the businesses are owned by the English. Usually, the French style of doing business is followed but the Hôtel de France decides to try and create a British style pub. We soon abandon the long queue at the bar for drinks. It is as inconvenient for customers here as it is in Britain. Silly. We go elsewhere.
Visiting a monolithic church is perfect on this hot afternoon. It is as cool as a cave and quite amazing. The sheer height is awe inspiring. These churches are supposedly carved out of one large rock but nature has done the most back-breaking work over many centuries. The cavern has been crudely carved to appear like the interior of a church. The high galleried openings and the narrow paths leading to them were hollowed out over the centuries by water. The 9th - 11th century builders carved stone steps into the path and widened the openings through which the congregation could watch the service. A natural spring becomes the perfect place for the font. Most impressive is the necropolis where each grave is carved out of the floor.
Day 18: Aubeterre-sur-Dronne - Angoulême 53 k
Cycling in shade along a ridge-road with pretty views opening out every kilometre is ideal. We move between farmland and forest, then past a stone quarry. There are few hamlets in this depopulated valley of the Dronne.
In Juillaguet we go into a church displaying a poem written by a parishioner after WWI full of hatred for the Germans. I am surprised it is still there. Torsac has a very pretty crenellated and castellated fortressed church and chateau - plus a bar where other cyclists join us for a cold drink. We enter the empty city centre of Angoulême, the birthplace of several significant Balzacian characters.
Our hotel is next to the Palais de Justice, an ideal location for seeing all the sights of the older town - the church, the chateau, the theatre. Views from the ramparts of the countryside and suburbs offer reminders of Balzac's descriptions of Angoulême. The town is supposedly famous for the painting of cartoon characters on the sides of buildings. We eventually find them but they are more infrequent and smaller than anticipated. We give up the chase and spend most of the afternoon sitting in the shade of plane trees, listening to the splash of the fountain in a café located just below the balcony of our hotel room. The hotel porter is interested in our cycle trip and asks many questions. He has a scrap book of others who have done similar treks.
The idyllic calm is broken at midnight after the café has closed. Boys from Yorkshire, the worse for drink, decide to play in the fountain by throwing each other into the concrete basin. Their swearing and loud jokes about Catholics are quickly followed by a gang of American boys, then Australian boys, then the return of the Yorkshire boys. About 5am the council comes to rake the gravel (!?!) quickly followed by noisy garbage trucks. By 6:30 when a car alarm goes off, we give up trying to sleep.
Day 19: Angoulême - Confolens 87 k
Coming into Angoulême on roads with no cycle provision was easy because it was a Sunday. Now it is Monday morning and the roads are crazy. We leave at 7am but it takes over an hour to get through the suburban sprawl along dangerously busy roads, e.g. L'Isle-d'Espagnac has the "create a narrower road to reduce speed" scheme on the D699, which is deadly to cyclists. They could very easily have created a bike path or lane. To make things even worse, despite all this traffic, there are no shops and we are soon hungry as well as exhausted.
The source of the Touvre marks a transition to quieter roads, but is otherwise a disappointment. The site is closed and there is no information, though the source of this river was once a famous landmark.
We enter the Braconne Forest, formerly a US military base, now an industrial estate in the middle of nowhere. The road, which we share with a few large articulated trucks, is closed from 10:30pm - 3:30am. The Americans have left behind the ruins of former canteens and a well-surfaced road.
Road signs tell us not to pick up bullets. The boom of rocket fire also warns us that we are close to a shooting range. On one of the steep ascents, we are suddenly faced by a large platoon of French soldiers running toward us, filling the road in their blue t-shirts. They make way and we exchange greetings. In the past, these forests were full of bandits and the meeting would not have been so pleasant.
We emerge from the forest at La Rochette and abruptly return to farmland and vineyards. This place also marks the linguistic border between the Oc and Oil languages and the mixed zone known as the Croissant. As at Aubeterre, we find that regions previously known for their "mixed languages" continue to have this trait. The difference now is that the two language groups are more often French and English, e.g. Beaulieu which is half English.
Cellefrouin promises many shops but they have all been closed down. However, it still has an 11th century church, slowly sinking into the ground and suffering from serious damp. One of the few remaining 12th century Lanterns of the Dead can be seen in the nearby cemetery where we are also able to refill our water bottles.
We are baked dry and brown by the time we complete the several climbs to Confolens. It is a busy town with a river front, a few half-timbered houses from the 16th century, a medieval stone bridge and several hotels. We are here, in part because it is twinned with Pitlochry, where G's family lives. [PHOTO] Would we recommend an exchange for the boys? They would certainly have to get used to the heat. I have to take three chilly showers just to stay cool for the evening.
Day 20: Confolens - Poitiers 87 k
An easy exit and steep climbs out of Confolens begin another hot day. We cycle past attractive vegetable and flower gardens alongside the Vienne River. A dolmen at Saint-Germain-de-Confolens, a key tourist site in the mid-19th century, is no longer mentioned but we find the island where it hides amongst bushes. Unlike yesterday, there are plenty of shops. After following the pretty valley of the Vienne, we shop at L'Isle-Jourdain.
At Bouresse, just when the land levels out, G's timer gives up in the cemetery. As has become usual, we find shade and water in the local cemetery. A few graves, balanced on four stone pillars, look as though they are about to run off. Wheatfields and a succession of small and poor farms follow Bouresse. A magnificent former abbey in Nouaille-Maupertuis is a good excuse for a stop in the shade. Everyone in the small local community seems to be involved in a medieval re-enactment.
We sneak into Poitiers via the suburbs. Thanks to perfect timing, we have a room. The receptionist was on the telephone taking a cancellation as G walked in. We are given the last room in the city. Everything has been booked for months ahead by examiners who come from all over France to examine hundreds of students. Thanks to a Professor's broken leg, we have an inexpensive room with a beautiful wrought-iron balcony overlooking the Town Hall (reminiscent of Glasgow).
We fall in love with the city. It is full of Poitiers-style 11th-12th century architecture. The church of Notre-Dame-la-Grande has reproduced the colourful interior by repainting the columns as they would have been in the 11-12th centuries. The exterior is just as fantastic. We admire the detailed façade of the church while sipping a drink in an organic-only café. The city is hosting a music festival and all sorts of music surround us. A jazz band plays outside the tourist office, a young boy plays his violin (not very well) on a nearby corner but is soon drowned out by an energetic local rock band playing outside a travel shop. We visit the Baptistery to admire the mural wall paintings. It has been in constant use since the 4th century as a Baptistery - until recently, when it was turned into an archaeological museum. We crane our necks to view paintings in the style of the Bayeux Tapestry. Horses rear up and crusaders hoist their swords skyward. A string duet tunes their instruments as we leave.
Tango dancers serenade us during our al fresco dinner in a leafy alleyway. Later, from our hotel balcony, we watch the slow progress of a Brazilian samba band marching through the streets collecting and disgorging participants. Various bands play in the square below until well after midnight. Thousands of people fill the streets and the sidewalk cafes. Cars disappear. Buses wade through the crowds. Unlike Britain, there are no drunken hooligans. Families, students and couples mingle together having a good time. Exhausted, we have no problem falling asleep, though the double-glazing does help.
Day 21: Poitiers - Thouars 83 k
The breakfast room is full of examiners, all looking very young. As we did yesterday, we have to go 8 miles before we are clear of the city traffic. Horrid and dangerous, made worse by our having to leave Poitiers during the rush hour in order to avoid some of the heat of the day. [PHOTO]
Vouzailles provides the opportunity to shop and a transition to fairly flat farmland. Each plot is small and displays a different coloured crop. The most beautiful patchwork quilt pattern is created by fields of blue flowers, shades of purple, pale yellow dill flowers, white blossoms, spring greens and the tawny brown of wheat fields ripe for harvesting.
Montcontour has a church, a tower and a nice picnic place by the river Vienne. We watch as local tourists follow a trail with signposts which explains how clothes used to be washed. We eat lunch and fight off various small insects.
From Sauzeau we cycle into yet another style of landscape. The land is now low-lying. Streams cross each field. Huge plane trees provide a semblance of shade. We are too hot to follow our route and decide to settle for a distant peek at the collégiale and château of Oiron. Shade is scarce. The sun beats down at the site of the several large dolmens of Taizé, each subtly different in design but all of the Angevin variety. We drop our bikes on the grass verge, run across a gravelled parking area and quickly take some photos. Rushing back, we realise our shoes have collected melting tar from the gravel. I find 4 inches of shade beside a house to recover from the Death Valley style heat.
Thouars is an odd place. It has a very attractive 17th century orangerie, a chateau (now a private school) and two churches (one is the burial place of Margaret, Queen of Scotland), winding stone streets and pretty riverside walks. However, there are no hotels in the centre and the town feels quite dead. Our notes tell us it was a prosperous Protestant town until the Edict of Nantes, when it fell into decay. It is still waiting to recover. We have to stay in a modern hotel alongside the noisy motorway. At least we have a great view of Thouars. The room is baking hot, as is the dining room. No fans and no breeze make for a sweaty dinner. A shame, as the food is very very good. Another three shower evening!
Day 22: Thouars - Angers 106 k
We start the day by cycling through seven kilometres of unattractive industrial estate until we reach Louzy. Despondent children wait outside for the school bus in tiny hamlets. Otherwise, we are alone in this flat farmland.
Traffic increases when we cross the Thouet River and enter a Saumur suburb (Bagneux) where the largest dolmen in Europe stands. There is only one sign so we cycle in circles before finally locating it next to a seedy café. It is housed, like a giant bear, inside a cage. Privately owned by the café, it is shameful how little regard is given to these historic monuments. I suppose I should be pleased that it is no longer used as a disco dance hall.
Our moods improve on the fast and easy, flat and scenic road (D751) from Saumur to Gennes - part of the Loire cycle route, but really just a normal road. Every size and shape of Loire-style château can be seen on this route. We have lovely houses to our left and the wide, sand-clogged banks of the Loire River to our right. The only problem is the heat. At Cunault we linger in the cool beauty of the cathedral nave, tall, wide, long and simple in design. We also linger over lunch in a city park in Gennes. Even so, it is over 100F/40C when we sling our hot and limp bodies onto our bike frames. The hunt for a bike path (don't bother) and several dolmens add on the miles. Judging by the quantity of cyclists in the local cafes, St-Rémy-la-Varenne is on the cycle touring map.
Our entry into Angers begins far in advance. The red road from St Mathurin to La Bohalle (D952, on the north bank of the Loire) has good views and not too much traffic. The D4 yellow road from Brain to Trélazé has a wide shoulder. A housing estate and some bike lanes complete the journey into the centre.
There are dozens of hotels near the modern glass-fronted rail station. We opt for the inexpensive Hôtel de l'Univers (a Citotel) which shares the same building as the much more expensive (and unwelcoming) Hôtel de France. The latter thinks a filthy multi-story car park several blocks away is appropriate for storing bikes safely (they would have charged us for it) while the Hôtel Iéna claims to be unable to cope with bikes at all. We can recommend "Le Relais" a restaurant at 9, rue de la Gare. Our meal begins with a cold fish soup decorated with a small scoop of tomato sorbet accompanied by ham wrapped in paper thin strips of aubergine. Yum.
Day 23: Angers
We are having a rest day in Angers and the temperature is slightly cooler thanks to an overnight rain storm. We visit the cathedral, wander around the ecclesiastical district admiring 15th-century buildings, have a cold drink outside the House of Adam (its façade famous for its wooden carvings), and visit the recently re-opened museum. The stone has been cleaned and is so white that I wonder if it ever looked this way before. There are no masterpieces but the displays are interesting and well organised. It is easy to appreciate the detail of objects carved in wood, ivory, bone and marble. Lunch in the museum café is certainly an improvement on canned tuna salad and banana. We dine at Le Relais again and have another delicious meal.
Day 24: Angers - Laval 97 k
Our hotel, very unusually, serves breakfast from 6:30am. The friendly bar is bustling with locals heading to work. We are happy to have an early start, though the day is promising to be much cooler. Grey and cloudy skies spit spots of rain. The humidity is so high, we don't notice.
The suburbs go on for miles and miles but eventually we are back in the countryside. It is all rather non-descript until we reach Le Plessis-Bourré, where we stop to admire the first example of a château built primarily as a grand house rather than as a fortress. It is surrounded by a moat but is certainly prettier than the château in Angers which was built purely for protection. Road signs indicate plenty more châteaux but we never see them as they are well hidden behind dense forest and high hedges.
Our fast-paced smooth cycling is interrupted at Château-Gontier by a steep incline. From here until Laval, we cycle through a sharply articulated landscape composed of meadows, cornfields, horse paddocks and brushy forests. One can imagine the Vendée War and the possibilities for successful guerrilla action by local Royalists. Descriptions from Balzac's Chouans come to life.
Laval is a disappointment, though it might not be if one could enjoy it without the traffic. As ever, though the cars, invited by road signs to show courtesy to pedestrians and cyclists, are going nowhere (unless you count moving from one parking lot to another as necessary), they manage to provide a constant distraction from the pretty river running through the town, the several church towers decorated with intricate stone carvings and the picturesque ramparts with narrow stone stairs leading to secret places.
All the Logis de France hotels are closed down or too far out. We opt for the Grand Hôtel de Paris, conveniently situated in the centre. Dinner is ok and matches my mood. Tired.
Day 25: Laval - Fougères 73 k
An early breakfast with the French table tennis team adds an air of excitement to the usual buffet of croissants, jam, cereal, yogurt and orange juice. A light rain provides a cool start to our day. A mixture of woods, meadows and farms set in rolling countryside is very similar to yesterday. G briefly visits Jean Chouan's home in a tiny hamlet. [PHOTO] Vitré provides an impressive view from a distance. We circumambulate the massive castle walls made of slate and stone, set in mortar, occasionally crumbling. A local woman, a tad "different", joins us on "her bench" and eyes our food with suspicion. We have interrupted her simple daily routine. We move to (yet another) wash-house with detailed explanations of what people did with dirty clothes before the advent of electric washing machines.
We are returning to Fougères after many years, and to the Hôtel Balzac, in the centre near the ramparts. We find the town busy enjoying a bi-monthly market. It seems to require loud music blaring out of town loudspeakers, including one just outside our hotel room balcony (no point telephoning Environmental Health…). The market doesn't display attractive local foods, as in tourist brochures. Instead, the stalls are selling cheap clothing, CDs, shoes, jewellery, etc. to locals who have come in from all the farms and hamlets we have passed on our way here. It is hot and crowded. We escape to the cooler and quieter municipal gardens. [PHOTO]
Dinner is a pleasant contrast. The town is quiet now. This is Sunday, and few restaurants are open. We are welcomed by a family (including a very active 2 year old) inside a restaurant still under construction. There is no menu but we are told some options. The food is delicious (cooked by the wife) and the husband is generous with the wine and offers a free calvados (apple brandy). The price is so low we wonder if they will succeed.
Day 26: Fougères - Coutances 115 k
Exiting Fougères is not easy and we end up re-entering it on a massive road before finding a quiet road, just on the edge of Fougères, deep in shade with lovely views of copses on either side. A dolmen is found and photographed. Melle, an attractive village, displays photos on its walls on the theme of "nature and stones". This region is known for its many stone circles - many on hillocks surrounding a dense copse.
Streams, rocky ridges and cornfields combine to form a strikingly beautiful countryside. We have problems crossing the river Sélune because of road works. We are forced to add seven miles to an already long day in order to cross at the Pont de la République.
The ominously named D999 misses out the prettiest countryside but does at least flatten (a bit) the undulations of the land. Villedieu-les Poêles, impressive from a distance, is clogged with local traffic. Soon after, we pass a sign on a small country road warning of "people walking". It is a rude reminder that walking is more unusual than driving a killer metal box. Scary.
The views improve as we turn off for Hambye, where an Abbey sits prettily in a river valley. The town marks our 2,000th mile since May. We consider staying in a gîte in L'Orbehaye, a tiny hamlet where we stop in the shade of a church wall. Unfortunately, my appreciation of the landscape wanes as the heat increases and the undulations become sharper.
A shady and quiet rural road into Coutances gives me just enough strength to fight for our rights on a very busy road leading to the hotel. It is on the edge of town, with great views of the magnificent cathedral, which we once again miss visiting. Our excuse? We have climbed 1270 metres today - our fifth highest climbing day since the start of this June trip. [PHOTO]
Day 27: Coutances - Cherbourg 92 k
We are completing our holiday on Roman roads. Tunnels, dark and cool, formed by dense hedges, protect and hide the tracks that criss-cross our route. [PHOTO] Small and quiet roads, with the occasional steep ascent, provide easy cycling. High-banked hedges keep the road cool on this muggy morning.
L'Entreprise, despite its name, is a tiny hamlet dominated by a single farm. It is the original Animal Farm, run by birds for birds. No human in sight.
We enter Cherbourg via Tourlaville, down a long steep descent followed by a gentle meander along a (7-8 mile) bike path to the ferry port. Hotel, dinner, sleep.
Day 28: Cherbourg - home 17 k
Up at 6am for the ferry on yet another hot and sunny day! Blue sky and blue sea form the perfect backdrop for the Tall Ships race. What a beautiful sight!
Portsmouth rail station is so close but so hard to find. We waste time going in circles.
Sudden rain storm and our neighbourhood river overflows onto the tree-lined bike path. I wade through, nearly knocked over by the force of the water.
Home at last. A comfortable bed, endless supplies of pasta and the Tour de France on television provide a perfect recovery to another amazing holiday!
Longest day on the bike: 7h 7m
Most climbing in a day: 1879 m
Least climbing in a day: 50 m
24 cycling days, 2 travel days, 2 rest days
1244 miles / 1991 kilometres
Total climb: 19,868 m / 65,186 ft
Wind direction: 22 days northerly ; 2 days easterly or variable
Hottest day: 47C / 116.6F (but over 30C on 23 days and over 40C on 6 days)
Coolest day: 25C maximum
Click here for photographs
Back to Part 1
Back to home page
|
![[PHOTO]](Aramits.JPG){kind=link}
![[PHOTO]](Cyclistes.JPG){kind=link}
![[PHOTO]](Landes-Gironde.JPG){kind=link}
![[PHOTO]](Aubeterre.JPG){kind=link}
![[PHOTO]](Confolens.JPG){kind=link}
![[PHOTO]](Poitou.JPG){kind=link}
![[PHOTO]](Chouan.JPG){kind=link}
![[PHOTO]](Grand-Depart.JPG){kind=link}
![[PHOTO]](Coutances.JPG){kind=link}
![[PHOTO]](Bocage-tunnel.JPG){kind=link}