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Day 10: Lyon - Col du Gratteau / Col de l'Oeillon 70 k
All the parking places are full but use of the private car is much less than in any other big city we have visited in France. Buses, trams, a metro and free bikes seem to have made the difference. We have an easy exit by following the Rhone and then latching onto any road running alongside a rail line. Bikes lanes appear and disappear through ugly conurbations until Givors when we begin our climb up to the Col de la Croix Régis.
It is an easy and pleasant ascent through meadows, farms and a smattering of hamlets. The town of Pélussin straggles along a hillside above the Rhone and provides a welcome café stop before we start the tough climb up the Col de l'Oeillon. We have a sense of success when we reach the Collet de Doizieux at 946 metres. However, the remaining 288 metres at 7-8%, with flies to accompany us, do seem to go on for nearly 10 miles through this unpopulated land.
Our isolation is confirmed when we find our hotel closed. [PHOTO] Fortunately, there is a handwritten notice telling guests they can go up to the restaurant (200 metres back uphill) for assistance. I stay with the bags while G goes in search of another human being, hopefully the hotel owner. The Tourist Office at St-Étienne confirmed our reservation online, but it turns out the hotel is normally closed on Thursdays. The rooms have not been cleaned but there is one unused room which we gratefully occupy. The bikes stay safely in the stable. [PHOTO] The hotel is run by an 81 year old woman who also manages the nearby restaurant. She does all her shopping on Fridays so we don't expect much for dinner but are grateful for her kindness. We sit alone in a large dining room with wonderful views of high pastures and gorse-covered hills.
She reminds me of my Grandmother, who loved to cook and feed others. The menu, however, is French rather than southern American. Homemade terrine and slices of dried regional sausage are preceded by a slice of melon. Next come thick slabs of local ham arranged on a large platter with lettuce dressed in oil and vinegar. Noise of cooking continues from the kitchen so we aren't too shocked when yet another large platter piled high with green beans cooked in garden-fresh tomatos are presented to us with several slices of steak, thinly cut and wonderfully tender. By this time, we are ready for the low calorie option of fromage blanc rather than cheese but we haven't anticipated her generous portions of cream. G has to give up but I continue when offered a large bowl myrtles, picked that morning from the berry bushes surrounding her house. She feels quite bad about having to ask G to open the wine but she recently fell when changing a light bulb and hurt her shoulder. It has been weeks and she has finally decided she had better see a doctor. What an amazing woman and what a wonderful hostess! She began her career in Logis de France hotels and only recently "retired" after 50 years.
Day 11: Col de l'Oeillon - Le Chambon-sur-Lignon (le Bois Vialotte) 82 k
We talk with our hostess over breakfast. She and her husband bought the 90-year-old hotel, isolated on a mountain top, 30 years ago. During that time, they only travelled abroad once when she won a "trip around the world" from a beer company. Her memories centre on beaches and she makes emphatic statements about the quality of a place based on whether they walked on rock or sand. Nice receives low marks but Australia scores well. After that, they gave up travelling in France. "What's the Mediterranean", she asks, "when you've seen the Pacific Ocean?"
Early morning sunshine warms our long descent past forested hillsides. We soon enter the Ardèche region. The villages we pass through are either unattractive and purely functional (e.g. Villevocance, Vocance, Tence) or they are very pretty with nice restaurants and hotels (e.g. St Julien-Vocance, St Bonnet-le-Froid, Le Chambon-sur-Lignon).
This is also a day of climbing. We start at 1234 metres and end at 1010 metres but in between there is much up and down. Our last col, Baraques (1072 metres), marks the watershed where the Loire river begins its long journey to the Atlantic. The Gorges du Lignon begin in Tence. Taking the quieter road, we wend our way through pleasant countryside to Le Chambon-sur-Lignon.
Soon after this busy town, we enter a wild and isolated region. The smell of ambrosia and pine trees is intoxicating as we climb the last two miles through thick forest to our hotel. Guests are rare but several generations of the family fill the space. We look out onto a wide and undulating meadow. On the edge sit the mother and daughter knitting by the light of the setting sun.
Demi-pension is the only option so the dinner choices are pre-selected. It doesn't matter as we are hungry and the food, as is usual for LdF hotels, is made with local produce and is delicious. There is great excitement when the young son, age 6, comes running in to tell everyone in the restaurant about the deer he has chased from the rose bushes (previously denuded by these four-legged creatures). The deer can just be seen across the field in the gathering gloom. Later, he helps his mother clear the table, one item at a time. We leave for sleep before the task is completed.
Day 12: Le Bois Vialotte - Les Estables 33 k cycling + 9 k hiking
A landscape created by volcanic eruptions has left behind odd protuberances on the horizon. We cycle along the rim of meadows in the shape of shallow bowls and gravy tureens. According to some writers, the last eruption in the Stone Age has also left behind place names which mark the event as though it was yesterday. The short cycling day is mostly occupied by an uphill climb to Croix de Peccata at 1570 metres.
Worried about arriving too early, we decide to stop at a café in Fay-sur-Lignon for a fruit juice. We are joined outside by the proprietor who is regularly called inside to sell bread from this "dépôt de pain". We phone G's mother from a call box in the empty square. Racing cyclists lean over the fountain to refill their water bottles. All is quiet in this village built of stone. Volcanic rock, grey and black, topped by slate roofs, is softened by the pastel blossoms cascading from hanging flower baskets. Behind the houses are colourful vegetable plots, each garden separated from the other by tall thin rocks pushed into the soft soil. Many of the houses are topped by squat stone crosses, including the top of a phonolithic tower labelled "dangerous to climb".
Further on, we pass the Roche pointue, looking less dangerous and being busily scaled on one side by women and on the other by men dressed in bright red outfits.
Les Estables, our stop for the night, is also the place where a map maker was murdered in the 1740s. It was known as a grim and forbidding place. It is now a small but bustling tourist centre. However, the tourism must be rather superficial as neither of us understands one of the shop owners, his accent is so thick. The butcher is a woman of few words but generous in her sandwich fillings. The only shade we can find for our picnic lunch is under some trees beside what should be the busiest road through town. Even this location is quiet and we remain undisturbed by any traffic. Of course, it is the end of the summer season and until the first full snow, there will be few tourists. Our hotel is named "Caprice des Neiges", so perhaps the snow doesn't always bring more tourists. It is a beautiful place visited primarily by working-class French.
The hot afternoon is fully occupied by a walk, up then down, from 1346 to 1753 metres, to the summit of Mont Mézenc. [PHOTO] This beautiful day has attracted lots of older local people who walk the last 200 metres from the parking lot to the hill-top cross. The 360-degree views allow us to see clearly the fantastic remains left behind by the volcanic destruction/creation scattered across the wide plains and meadows. The path to the top is thick in ash and the lower half of our bodies is soon covered in fine grit. Wild strawberries divert all the walkers, as does the musical sound produced by our feet slipping on shards of phonolithic rock.
Our hotel offers only demi-pension and the regimentation is not to our taste - but seems to be perfectly acceptable to the other guests. Dinner is served at exactly 7:30 and one is expected to be finished long before 9pm! What a shame to be rushed through what is yet another delicious meal. The salad is from the garden outside, the cheeses are produced in the region, and the myrtles for the pie were picked in the nearby woods.
Day 13: Les Estables - Les Allignols (near Saint-Pons) 76 k
After a quick stop for supplies at the local Vival, we pass several groups of FFCT cyclists (the French equivalent of the UK's cycle touring club), heading the other way. They are staying here for one of their regional/national meetings. Their definition of "cycle touring" is different from ours. The French rarely seem to go out without support vehicles for overnight trips. The cyclists we are passing have a small front pannier for their day trip. The US and UK definition is more generally applied to camping cyclists or credit card tourists, like us, with panniers rather than support vehicles. Whatever the definition, it is nice to share the road with lots of other cyclists, especially couples and women.
We climb back out of Les Estables for the third time in twelve hours, [PHOTO] up a long and lonely road past open pastures to a copse at the top of the Col de la Croix de Boutière. [PHOTO] What an amazing sight as we begin our descent into this massive crater! The sketched outlines of row upon row of hills and distant mountain ranges are barely visible in the glossy grey-blue sheen of slowly rising mist. As we descend, ever so subtly along the upper edge of the crater we peer down into boulder strewn green meadows. Pine trees hug the edge of this stunningly beautiful road.
The Mediterranean - Atlantic watershed is reached after a small climb. Soon after, we arrive at the bulbous volcanic remain named the Gerbier de Jonc. It lost 100 metres of its top in a landslide in the 18th century and still looks on the verge of losing yet more of its bulk. Therefore, it is with some surprise that we see families clambering up its slopes. This place is also famous as the source of the Loire River. A farmhouse claims to be the spot and we join a queue of tourists waiting to fill bottles with the cold water which energetically emerges from a small spout. The roadway is lined with cars and caravans. On this particular Sunday, a happy and friendly local crowd is celebrating some event as evident by the quantity of informal shops selling local delicacies.
After reaching our third col of the day, the Col du Pranlet, we emerge onto the edge of another magnificent crater. An easy ridge road [D122: used on the Ardéchoise mass bike rides/races in June every year] encircles the high sides of this deep gash in the earth. The road offers no shade but we enjoy open views across a wide landscape dotted with the occasional forest. Steep slopes on either side of the road with huge rocks dangling about our heads are sufficient warning about the propensity of landslides in this area. We are relieved when the road takes us into a shady forest where we find moss covered boulders to sit on for our lunch stop.
The Quatre Vios col marks the transition into yet another crater. The change is even more dramatic, drier and bolder. Orange-brown and pink-red lichens provide welcome splashes of colour. Three more cols quickly follow as part of the descent. [PHOTO] An ascent on a red road to L'Escrinet isn't too busy at lunchtime on a Sunday.
A tough climb up to the Coulet de la Soulière is worth the views. Examples of volcanic creations abound and it must be a geologists' paradise, e.g. the Dyke. The Plateau du Coiron is so dry that the grass has crumbled to nothing and the cows don't bother grazing. [PHOTO] We turn off for the hotel after the Col de Fontenelle. Minuscule roads lead to our 3-star hotel which is isolated in the depths of a deep green wooded valley. We enjoy stupendous views of St Pons from our upstairs bedroom window and gaze in amazement at the basalt columns which form part of the back garden of the hotel. A strong wind blows the café tables and chairs about as we drink our beers.
Dinner is disappointing (considering the status of the hotel), but the views of nearby volcanic remains keep us entertained, as do the many dogs in the garden, in the restaurant, in the reception, etc. We have never seen so many in one place. Each guest seems to have at least two and the hotel owner has quite a few himself.
Day 14: Les Allignols - Orange 96 k
Last night's thunder and wind gusts have turned to light rain and heavy mist by the
morning. The parched brown countryside, full of thin goats and donkeys, desperately
needs this infusion. Our route is through Provençal hillsides and stone villages capped
by red tiled roofs. The pinnacles of these tiny habitations are topped by at least one
picturesque medieval ruin or church steeple. The remains of ramparts and fortresses -
many Roman - are nearly as frequent. Volcanic plugs and other protuberances are often confused with human-made ruins.
Going downhill, we smell the lavender and know we are returning to Provence. The red road is full of articulated lorries but they are friendly and flash their lights in greeting - and even slow down for us! Entering Alba-la-Romaine, we pass by a ruin, now a massive wall, its roofless eaves lined by black birds. The town has a Roman theatre and an odd remnant of a medieval tower on a volcanic rock amidst small stone houses. [PHOTO] Just before crossing the Rhone, we pass through Viviers, which is full of medieval ruins. The bridge over this narrow crossing of the great river has a sidewalk but the shoulder leading up and off the bridge is unfortunately absent and the road is narrow and full of traffic.
We are soon on empty roads admiring the medieval ruins which cover the hillsides of Châteauneuf-du-Rhône. Allen is noted as the birthplace of the first white mulberry bush in France and in honour of this event, we buy some food. An enormous pole swings atop the hamlet of Réauville which is also dominated by an oddly shaped ruin. We wonder what it is while sitting on the church steps, eating yet more food. It is no surprise, when we arrive in Chantemerle-lès-Grignan, to find a strange looking church at the top of this perched hamlet. A silo-shaped bell tower and unusual medieval belvedere decorate Chamaret.
Suze-la-Rousse, with its wine university, returns us to familiar territory. We climb briefly to Rochegude where a friendly dog accompanies us across the Col de l'Aspre, our only col of the day. [PHOTO] Then we descend to the plain and busy stretches of red road full of discourteous drivers. Ugly industrial estates and roads sprinkled in broken glass usher us into Orange through the still monumental three-column triumphal arch built by the Romans over 2,000 years ago.
Our hunt for a restaurant takes us past the enormous exterior walls of the Roman theatre, built by Augustus in 35BC and still used for musical concerts. British voices can be heard and for the first time in days, we see non-white Frenchmen. We are joined at dinner, accidentally, by two Oxford graduates, now Friends of the Bodleian. I have to switch to work-mode while working to enjoy a delicious dinner of tomatos stuffed with cucumbers and cream cheese followed by baked chicken served with onion marmalade, carrot soufflé and potato-cheese casserole.
Day 15: Orange - Le Barroux 48 k
We are the first visitors to the Roman theatre but are soon interrupted by a BBC television crew who have started filming a program on "What the Romans did for the European Union" with Boris Johnson, a comedian, commuting cyclist and Member of Parliament (and now a member of the shadow Conservative government). A Pythonesque exchange with Graham, who is invited to be an expert if he can tell them when the theatre was built, ends with our talking to Boris about our cycle rides through his constituency on Sunday mornings.
We leave behind the bright lights of British television to start our day, short but full of climbing. We survive the tedious and unattractive exit from Orange before crossing the
wide riverbed of the Ouvèze, still bone dry though we are in our second day of persistent rain. Beaumes-de-Venise provides a bus shelter for lunch. The day is much cooler so we welcome a warming climb to Suzette via an amazing array of jagged and tooth-shaped rocky outcrops emerging from the tops and sides of mountain slopes. The Dentelles de Montmirail were created from limestone by volcanic heaving and centuries of wind erosion.
Even more warming is the repeated up and down of the Cirque de Saint-Amand which provides excellent views of Le Barroux, our stop for the night. We are passed on the very narrow roads by two cyclists heading in the other direction, each doing a 7,000-kilometre "non-stop challenge". One of the two support vehicles is blaring Dutch music from its windows.
In Malaucène we sit in the same café as in 2001 when we arrived here after a hair-raising descent from Mont Ventoux. Once again, the town is full of cyclists, recovering or preparing for their battle with the great mountain. Norwegians pass by on racing bikes hauling a light-weight trailer full of their camping gear. An interesting combination.
"Nestling" is an over-used term in tourist brochures, but it could be correctly applied to Le Barroux, a very pretty village with a maze of narrow roads meandering between an attractive array of stone houses, churches and shops. We enjoy the many different views over the countryside on a walk before dinner, and manage to get lost several times in the tangle of streets. The hotel restaurant, though expensive, is very busy. We select the cheapest menu, offering a choice of pig knuckles followed by lamb knuckles (we have fish for one course). The food is delicious and creative, especially the dessert of roast peaches and apricots with caramel ice cream.
Day 16: Le Barroux - Forcalquier 98 k
The very steep climb to Caromb is a new experience. More familiar is the view of Bédoin from Crillon (seen on many postcards), the Jesuit-style church standing against a blue sky dominated from a distance by the mass of Mont Ventoux. It is odd to walk around Bédoin again but I welcome the realisation that the shop-keepers aren't very friendly (as compared to many other French towns) and that it wasn't entirely my fault that I didn't fit in when we lived here 17 years ago. There are more cyclists passing through now, all on expensive bikes wearing fashionable sports gear.
We climb up to Flassan, accompanied briefly by a very serious American family. More exuberant are the two German couples who join us on the climb of 1000 metres up to Notre-Dame-des-Abeilles. We pass each other repeatedly after our differing rest stops on this fairly easy climb.
Like Malaucène, the terrace at Sault is full of cyclists coming or going from Mont Ventoux. We arrive just as the summit emerges from the cloud, bathed in sunshine. Lots of Americans (with support vehicles) can be heard discussing their routes. At the top of the hill on the D950, on the edge of Sault, G's timer freezes and has to be reset. A military radio-mast must be the culprit. This is the first time it has been affected by roadside installations.
The ascent to St Trinit and Revest-du-Bion is harder than expected because of a strong easterly wind. The landscape is changing and we are surrounded by low hills blanketed in deciduous trees and holm oaks. We pass through the tumbledown hamlet called Le Rocher d'Ongles. [PHOTO] The wind is so strong it is even a struggle to keep up speed going downhill - certainly there is no need to use our brakes!
The application of brakes is necessary when, somewhere after Banon, we come across a sudden traffic jam due to a road accident involving several cars. We carry our bikes over and around the broken glass and bits of metal and proceed quickly and safely to the bustling town of Forcalquier.
We arrive promptly at 6pm, as requested by the Alsatian hotel owner who is only opening rooms for us and another cycling couple. We have a great view of the nearby Cathedral, the first gothic example in Occitanea (1295). A single rose window stands above the simple curved entrance on an otherwise blank stone wall. There are two bell towers, one a massive square and the other tall and thin like a minaret. They ring twice each hour through the night. Just as well we spend part of the evening in an attractive restaurant, L'Estable, where we have a delicious and well-priced dinner in quiet surroundings.
Day 17: Forcalquier - Moustiers-Sainte-Marie 74 k
Towards sunrise, the hourly sound of church bells is accompanied by loud discussions between the street cleaners. Breakfast is almost non-existent so we are grateful to find plenty of food shops in town. The countryside is pretty but the hamlets we pass through are unremarkable. The strong east wind continues - most unfortunate as our route is easterly.
We climb through forest on easy gradients up to La Mort d'Imbert and gently descend past vegetation tinged brown by recent fires. Manosque is comparable in size and population to Orange. There are many Muslims, lots of Moroccan restaurants, numerous fountains in small squares and a prominent Communist Party Headquarters (painted Provençal blue). We walk through the narrow streets past a mixture of crumbling structures and new buildings.
The busiest and least attractive part of the day involves crossing the still dry Durance river in spitting rain. (We took the little white road to the south of town, past rubbish dumps and factories, to join the D907 across the river as late as possible.) [PHOTO] More pleasant is the warmer air which hits us on the other side of the bridge. We climb up then cycle across the wide and windy Valensole plain, which is covered in lavender fields and almond trees. Views of mountain ranges in front and to our right show us where we are heading.
Valensole is only worth noting as a good place for a hot drink. The climb to our second col, the Pas de Laval, takes us across yet more lavender covered plateau interspersed by small plantations of oak (possibly for truffles).
We are joined on the steep descent and ascent to Puimoisson by a young and chatty German cyclist who is hauling a trailer full of camping equipment. We are all going to Moustiers-Sainte-Marie, a most amazing village where a large star on a 220 metre gold chain hangs above the town between sky-scraper high limestone pillars. It was placed there in the 12th century by a knight returning from the Crusades. Even without this theatrical backdrop, Moustiers would be a "prettiest village", perched gracefully along orange-hued limestone hillsides, the varied and attractive stone structures criss-crossed by narrow and powerful waterfalls. We arrive as the sun is setting behind a wide but thin limestone wall. It appears to be hiding further geological treasures.
Just after arriving, a heavy rain storm breaks out and we watch sympathetically, from the comfort of our dry room, as three young British cyclists check into the same hotel.
Day 18: Moustiers-Sainte-Marie - Comps-sur-Artuby 64 k
The rain clears just as we are finishing our breakfast (and just as the three young men appear for their share of cereal and bread). We walk through the town, combining shopping with sight-seeing. The town is only just waking up at 9am and is obviously more used to day-trippers. It was founded by monks in 422AD and has been a popular pilgrimage site since the 5th century. It is certainly worth a visit.
We have the "Grand Canyon" of France to explore - the Gorges du Verdon - and as rain storms are predicted, we get on our way by gently descending to the Lac de Sainte-Croix, created in 1975. It has completely changed the landscape. Photos are saved for the socialist beehives just below Aiguines, [PHOTO] and then Aiguines itself, far above the lake, dominated by a chateau with pretty turrets and a Burgundian-style many-coloured tiled roof. [PHOTO] The climb continues to be easy up to the Col d'Illoire.
The Cirque de Vaumale, leading to the col of Vaumale at 1201 metres, can be enjoyed for its easy gradients and stunning views into the gorges. [PHOTO] The only difficulty is deciding where to stop when there are so many tempting places. Every turn in the road displays another amazing scene of the distant river and grey granite cliffs streaked in orange and black. Scrubby boxwood trees and gnarled oak trees create the vision of a green oasis.
The Falaise des Cavaliers is the narrowest point of the gorge and is best seen by cycling or walking so you can easily peer into the rocky depths. Across from us one can see a road, running along the other rim of the canyon. It is useful to note that going east on the southern road results in more ascending (1448 metres) than descending (1193 metres).
The climb up to the tunnels via the bridge is a much harder gradient, accompanied by a sudden influx of car tourists. There are wonderful views to the other side of the gorge. [PHOTO] The Balcons de la Mescla are understandably popular as well, but the climb up to them is hard and tedious since the grand views are replaced by scrubby woods. We emerge onto open meadows dotted with a few farm houses.
We are heading for Trigance and the map suggests a sharp descent to the junction but it is actually gentle and pleasant. However, beware the very, very steep descent (not marked) after turning off for Trigance - smooth at first then suddenly dangerously rutted - followed by a 16% ascent (not marked) into the tiny village. Cars are banished to a parking lot near the stone gated entrance. A few local women sit outside the only café, talking and watching the nearly non-existent local life. There is a very interesting exhibit near the church and clock tower displaying the history of the village through 19th and 20th century photographs and statistics from an 1851 census. It notes that there was one teacher, one churchman, one bell-ringer, one hermit, etc.
The promised rain is hovering on the horizon and drops start to fall as we get back onto our bikes. Just as we turn onto the red road to Comps-sur-Artuby we meet up again with the German cyclist, who is now accompanied by a New Zealander he met during the day. The four of us cycle into Jabron, but steeper gradients soon split our peloton. A sudden heavy rain storm has each of us scuttling for shelter in the roadside woods. We are only a mile from our hotel but are soon soaked to the bone.
While G drips his way to reception I wait outside. In a few minutes I am waving in the 3 British cyclists we met over breakfast followed by the German and the New Zealander. No commission is offered for collecting 5 more customers. The hotel existed before the town was named and has been run by the same family since 1737. Our room has a view of the church founded by the Knights Templar.
Over the course of dinner, we learn that the British cyclists are undergraduates from Oxford, at least one is a Corpus Christi rower.
Day 19: Comps-sur-Artuby - Grasse 73 k
A heavy mist obscures our view of the church steeple, a mere 50 feet away. It is cold but dry. Thankfully, a shop is found in la Bastide. The sun is now out and it is an easy climb on the red road to our first col, Clavel. Just as the road is getting busier, we turn off for a more noticeable climb to Malamaire and the Col Bas. Along this stretch we are joined by lots of other touring cyclists.
Hungry again we eagerly descend to Andon where we know there will be shops. The woman at the cash register is completely drunk but with help from a local woman who is also trying to shop, we manage to help her sell us some food. She is in a happy mood and tries to give us extra treats at no cost.
A delightful small road leads us alongside pretty houses up to Collet de la Selle where we enjoy views reminiscent of an alpine landscape. Wide valleys and dew soaked meadows are fringed by fir tree studded hillsides (on our right) and towering limestone crags (on our left). A swoop down and around to Pont-du-Loup leaves us with only a few metres of climbing to La Sine. We continue along this 1000 metre ridge which meanders along the top edges of hills. [PHOTO] It makes our final col, Ferrier equally easy. Professional (or post-professional) cyclists effortlessly skim past us with a brief greeting.
Cycling from 1041 metres to 333 metres gives us a steep descent to Grasse via St-Vallier-de-Thiey and Cabris. The roads get busier as we approach the capital of perfume makers. The town is dispersed across rounded hillsides joined by steep and narrow roads. The LdF hotel was built at the turn of the century and the rooms are large with high ceilings. Our balcony on the third floor provides fantastic views of the Mediterranean Sea as well as a closer collection of tumbling buildings painted in various pastel shades. [PHOTO] I lie in bed soaking up the slowly changing scene as the mist moves across the sea with the setting of the sun. The smell of coconut wafts up from the patio, masking the more persistent smell of drains.
We enter the "historic town" of Grasse via a French-Moroccan neighbourhood. Laundry hangs outside the windows of the six storey high buildings, each so close that sheets can be hung between apartments, throwing the road below into even deeper shade. The domineering Cathedral is similarly dark with almost no windows along its stony bulk.
The town hall marks a transition between the "historic" slum housing and the posh part of town. The same narrow roads and tall buildings are made pleasantly romantic by well-lit shops full of deliciously scented soaps. Expensive designer clothes create attractive window displays. We eat in a designer brasserie full of friendly locals and plenty of pasta.
Day 20: Grasse - Eze 74 k
Even though it is a cloudy and rainy morning, there are tons of racing cyclists out today, going fast, head down, in full kit. We don't go far before stopping for shelter in Le Bar-sur-Loup, a busy medieval village situated on a hilly outcrop with panoramic views to the river valley below. In contrast, is the dying village of Pont-du-Loup (not to be confused with the earlier Pont-du-Loup) along the dank and dark river where WWII damage is still apparent. [PHOTO] We cycle around dead rats before stopping outside the remains of a viaduct, an abandoned hotel and, surprisingly, a still functioning candy factory.
In Tourrettes-sur-Loup we eat yogurts while watching the town's parking lots fill up with tourists visiting this pretty medieval village. The sun has come out and we enjoy a descent to Vence. Mega-store round-abouts are as traffic-ridden as the town. The deep valleys of this region make it difficult to find one's bearings and we are soon lost, wandering along muddy roads which link new suburban houses to each other but to nowhere else. We try to follow the bus route but that only takes us in circular paths as well. Not sure how we escaped but we do eventually, exhausted by the incessantly steep inclines around Saint Jeannet. [PHOTO].
The Corniche du Var is fairly quiet on this Sunday with views of the wide banks of the river Var. Industrial-sized market gardens line the road, as do tables topped by small baskets of produce set beside an "honesty box". We stop in the friendly town of St-Laurent-du-Var for lunch. In the 18th century, most of its population lived - usually not into old age - by ferrying travellers across the Var from France to Nice. A wide shoulder on the bridge that now spans the Var makes the crossing quite pleasant. [PHOTO]
Almost immediately we are on a round-about with a turn-off for Nice Airport. A narrow sidewalk (coloured red) can be used as a safe but bumpy cycle path which soon after the airport merges into the Promenade. This provides a dedicated two-way cycle path. There is also space for rollers and pedestrians but as many tourists and young children don't understand the distinction between the sidewalk and the cycle lane, it can be slow cycling as one nears the centre of Nice. Planes comes sweeping in, low down, tracing the wide arc of the bay, bringing fresh loads of people for the beach.
Swimmers and sun bathers crowd the rocky shore, their noise muffled by the crashing of waves. It is wonderful to have arrived and the sun mirrors our elated mood. [PHOTO] We have completed the Paris-Nice route (though we have taken a bit longer than the professional teams)!
However, as we leave the ocean front and dip into Nice, I am relieved it is a Sunday and very happy that we are not staying here. I would hate to cope with the Monday morning traffic. An exceedingly steep 200 metre climb out of Nice on a narrow and busy road with terrible drivers (even on a Sunday afternoon) confirms the decision. (This is the D2564, also called the Avenue des Diables Bleus, from its military builders, which begins close to the eastern end of the Promenade.) Women should note the need to be audacious and creative in finding a place for a natural break (today and yesterday in particular).
Soon after the Observatory, the gradients become kinder and we are soon over the Quatre Chemins col. The further we are from Nice, the quieter the road and the lovelier the views of the azure blue Mediterranean. The steep gradients return for the final two kilometres up to Eze - on the summit of a col. We are given the last room in the hotel (by 3 minutes) - another relief. The hotel has just reopened after being "designer decorated". It is all very chic and original. The room is small but offers fantastic views of the Alps, no longer so distant. [PHOTO]
Day 21: Eze - Menton 28 k
The sun shines on the Alps as we gently descend to la Turbie, famous for the Roman Trophy which dominates the village. We can see it from a distance but once we are within the town walls, it is difficult to locate. The closure of the main road from Italy into France (A90) due to rain-induced landslides, has brought all forms of traffic, including two-storey high trucks, through the town's narrow roads. G finds another route on a tiny white road which descends into Monaco. [PHOTO] A 10% gradient keeps away all the trucks and most of the cars. In addition, it is a beautiful run, like a long dive into the blue-tinted Mediterranean Sea with a few sharp hair-pins to attract one's attention back to the tarmac.
Monte-Carlo is crazy, as though Las Vegas had merged with Salt Lake City. Monaco is the most densely populated country in the world and they forgot to include bike provision. We cycle on the sidewalk and later, when we are in the city centre, on the roads.
We enter via the Exotic Gardens where brightly-coloured flowering plants overflow on to the rocky outcrops above the road. Enormous, lavish and pretentious hotels surround the casino and opera house. A school is in a high-rise building and we can hear children playing "outside" on the 3rd floor. Construction is all around (e.g. plastic surgery clinic) though there appears to be no space left for new buildings. The Japanese Garden where we stop to eat some food forbids eating, running, photographing, drawing, etc. We abandon the idea and move on!
Traffic madness contrasts with the serenity of the sea and we opt for the latter by following a walking path around Cap-Martin. It juts out to meet the sea crashing on the rocky shore below. We admire the differing shades of blue and the ever-changing views of Monaco. A slight problem are the many steep staircases along the Smugglers' Path (sentier des douaniers). [PHOTO] Carrying the bikes would be fine, but with luggage, it soon becomes wearing. However, there is no traffic, few walkers, fantastic views and we have plenty of time. When we finally leave the path we find ourselves just outside the entrance of the Cap-Martin LdF.
A quick descent [PHOTO] on paved roads through a well-lit tunnel, deposits us on the beach at Menton. By now, finding a hotel and lunch prove slightly more tempting than the sandy and sunny beaches of this resort town.
Our bikes enjoy views of the sea from our 4th storey balcony. A tour of old Menton requires climbing but is worth the effort. There are countless Italian restaurants, ice-cream parlours and food shops. We watch small sailing vessels bob about while we eat our dinner. Though it is a French restaurant, the selection suggests a strong Italian influence. Italy is so near, we can see it twinkling through the thickening mist.
Click here for Part Three
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