chapter fifteen

It had been very windy during the night, and since we'd not been able to get the tentpegs into the hard stony ground, we used large boulders to hold the tent down. By morning though things hgad quietened down a little, and we woke to a beautiful, if breezy, sunny day.

Right from the start the hills continued as we circumvented around the edge of the montains, until arriving at Argeles where we saw the magnificent coastal plain of the Rouisillon region laid out before us. We rested here and gorged ourselves on fresh fruitfrom a roadside vendor, before continuing north past the resorts of St. Cyprien, Canet and Ste. Marie at a much faster pace. The strong headwind was still with us but at least the terrain was flatter, and we decided to use the busy main road to take us to the campsites at Barcales.

Road ahead closed - because of the Tour de France!

We were spoilt for choice when it came to choosing a place to stop for the night, but unfortunately all of the sites were expensive. It cost us over ?10 to erect our tent on some spare ground beside a static caravan - whose owners were away for the weekend - but we still had other noisy people all around us. This part of France is definitely an important holidaying area for the French people, with few foreigners to be seen, and we were learning to adapt to (and endure!) this busy tourist honeypot.

We had to change some more travellers cheques next morning but discovered that the local Post Office didn't offer this service (most do), and so had to wait for ages with dozens of other tourists to get cash from a small bank in the town. This delayed our start a bit, but we were hoping to make up for it by riding along the main roads again to our next destination Narbonne.

This time though the traffic was much heavier, and the road much narrower,so that a couple of times we were almost blown off our bikes in the wake of the juggernauts rushing past us. We tried to find a quieter route nearer the sea but since the road wanders in and out, as it follows the various lagoons and estuaries on the coast, it would have taken us miles out of our way. We continued then on into the headwind, but felt the exertion draining our reserves of energy all the time.

We almost stopped for the night at a lovely remote campsite near Sigean, but we had dreams of watching the Tour de France live near Toulouse, so wanted to press on as fast as we could. In the event it was the wise thing to do, for in the city of Narbonne we found a cheap hotel for just a little more money than what a campsite would have cost us. We enjoyed the luxury of a comfortable bed and quiet room -even managing to find a McDonalds for our evening meal - before planning the next stage of our journey: up the Canal du Midi.

Skirting around the edge of Narbonne we could see the beautiful tall spire of the cathedral, and regretted not having sufficient time to explore the city further. Of course, this romantic notion of sight-seeing around a place like Narbonne is far from the reality of dealing with all the noise and traffic of the busy centre - especially since we'd have to lug the heavy bikes with us. We usually preferred then to explore the quieter villages in the countryside, and leave the cities to another time when we might have four wheels not two!

We found the canal with little trouble and were immediately taken in by it's wondeful tranquil beauty. There were one or two pleasure craft gently cruising up or down the water, but it was the lovely towpath that attreacted us. We'd read that we would be able to ride all the way along this path to Toulouse and beyond, and though we might not get there in time to see the Tour de France ride through, it would be a splendid ride anyway.

The hot sun blazed down onto the water but we were protected by the shade of the overhanging beech and sycamore trees, enjoying our escape from the traffic. We were now riding through the Minervois and Corbieres wine-producing areas and we found vineyards all around us - just crying out for us to stop and sample the grapes. We did, but they were still unripe and far too bitter to eat in any quantity - no matter how hard we tried! In some areas the path had become rather overgrown and we suffered punctures, whilst in other areas the bumpy nature of the path had us retreating to the nearby smooth road.

We found a nice campsite at Trebes and since it was a municipal one, the price for the night was only 59 Francs (?5.90). We pitched our tent overlooking the Aude river, before riding back to an Intermarche store we'd spotted on the edge of town, for more supplies. We had tea sitting outside the tent and watching the antics of the different rodents that lived on the river-bank: the brown rats and coypu to be exact! In the evening a plague of midges came to pester us as we sat outside a bar writing postcards to folks back home, and it wasn't long before we retreated back to the tent for an early night.

A near-by pop festival went on late into the night, but since the music sounded pretty good we didn't mind at all - it had been ages since we'd heard a live group. Next morning we didn't feel the effects from our lack of sleep, and were on the road early to continue our journey along the Canal du Midi towards Toulouse.

We were making good progress and quickly arrived at the town of Castelnaudary where, to our utter amazement, a large roadsign stooped us in our tracks. It announced that the main road through the town would be closed between the hours of 11 o'clock and 3 o'clock because of the passing of the Tour de France cycle race! We'd thought that we wouldn't get here in time to see the Tour pass, yet here it was - and it filled us with wild excitement. We quickly found a hotel to stop for the night, where the helpful owner said the long column of riders should arrive in a couple of hours time. This gave us plenty of time to enjoy a bit of lunch and then wander into town to watch the race.

Our room had a telly so we wasted no time in switching it on to watch the progress of the race, which is broadcast live on several channels each year - unlike in Britain! A shadow of doubt began to creep through our minds though as we tried to follow route they were taking on our map. By our reckoning they were riding away from Castelnaudary not towards it. This could only mean one thing - the race had already passed through!

We decided to go and check this out, so jumped on the bikes and raced into the centre of town. Sure enough the police were dismantling the barricades, and the excited crowds were returning home with all the free promotional material that the Tour gives out. Children were waving flags, adults were chattering excitedly about their favourite rider, whilst we collapsed in a dispondent mood of bitter disappointment. To think we'd come all this way and managed to miss the world's most important cycling event by ten minutes!!!!!

As if things weren't bad enough the weather thought it would further dampen our spirits, as it later began to rain with thunder and lightening. At the time we weren't safely tucked up in our hotel room where we should have been; we were in a dirty launderette in the town waiting for our washing to finish! We'd now completed just over 3000 miles........

chapter sixteen

Though we'd managed to miss the Tour de France, we were beginning to undertake a kind of cycle race of our own. Subconsciously we were heading north as fast as we could, now that the real highlights of the trip had been achieved (or NOT in the case of the Tour!). Our money was running out and the discomforts of camping were beginning to tell a little; we were probably ready to return home.

We made our way along the Canal du midi right through the very busy city of Toulouse, and then headed north to Montaubin and then cahors. We stayed at each of these places in a very cheap chain of hotels called 'Formule 1', which we'd recommend to anyone wanting a simple stop-over for the night. The cost of 150 francs (?15) per room compared favourably to some of the more expensive campsites we'd seen on the South of France coastline - and offered a lot more comfort!

The wonderful Canal du Midi along which we rode

The weather stayed pretty hot, but with occasional light showers things were getting rather humid - ideal conditions in fact for mosquitoes and midges! They were becoming much more of a nuisance now, but couldn't really distract us from the beautiful wooded scenery we were now riding through. All the rivers in this region flow west and meet the sea near Bordeaux, creating some beautiful deep gorges as they erode into the soft surrounding chalk hills.

The vineyards had given way (for a time) to fields of maize, sunflowers and potatoes, and there were a lot more orchards of fruit trees. At Souillac we camped right beside the famous Dordogne river, which was alive with canoes and children playing in the water. This was one huge playground which the French (and lots of other nationalities too) had headed for now the main holiday season was underway. In May or June we would have had this place to ourselves, but things were quite crowded now - though the helpful campsites always managed to find a place for our small tent.

The main road continued north to Limoges, ansince wedn't want to duel with the heavy traffic in that area, we cut across country to Hautfort. We had no idea where we were going to stay for the night, but after climbing over a steep rise, the impressive structure of a huge mansion perched on a neighbouring hilltop suggested we stay there....and that's exactly what we did.

The imposing chateau dominates the small village of Hautfort, and we asked the local tourist office to book us into a nearby Bed & Breakfast. This turned out to be three miles away down a long steep hill, but the old farmhouse where we stayed was very secluded. We intended to spend the night here and visit the chateau in the morning - it was too late in the day to do that now.

We had a very quiet and comfortable night at the farm, and in the moring I opened the shutters to let the sunlight stream in. Our room was upstairs and with the little birdsin the surrounding trees singing their heads off, we thought we were in heaven. Our breakfast had been set out on the balcony by "madame", and we were treated to homemade bread rolls and homemade jam, whilst we attempted to converse in French about our trip. For the princely sum of ?22 we'd been shown just a little of what life is like for the "other half"!

Tom & Jess at the magnificent hilltop chateau of Hautfort

We reluctantly decided to leavethe B&B and go a mile up the road to a small campsite we'd seen yesterday (after we'd booked into the farmhouse I hasten to add!). After pitching the tent, and taking off all the panniers, we rode back up the long hill to Hautfort to visit the chateau. Once inside the huge black iron gates, we were told we could leave our bikes beside the attendant's office, and then wandered up to the main castle.

As we neared, we could see the massive walls that protected the chateau from attacking forces, and the history of the place also became more obvious. Battlements and round towers at one end indicated that they were the oldest part of the walls, and newer structures had been added on later. The high mansion itself had been 'tacked on' to the front, and this was the impressive sight that we had seen coming up from the south.

Our guided tour of the inside took an hour, and though the young lady could speak no English, (and us little French), we managed to pick up enough clues to the castle's past. The walls of the rooms had been elaborately lined with walnut, giving the whole place a distinctly affluent atmosphere, which must be very nice for the lucky blighter who still lives there!

We wandered outside to enjoy the manicured gardens, and then had a lovely picnic lunch beneath the shade of a spreading cypress tree. With a nice bottle of Bordeaux to ease our lunch down,we lazily spent the afternoon enjoying the peace and tranquility of this gorgeous place before returning to the campsite.

There was no TV at the bar opposite the site, so watching the cycle racing was out, so we set off for a walkaround the country lanes with our binoculars instead. The sun was really hot and this seemed to encourage the birds to come and put in an appearance for us - and hey presto! we spotted our first Greybacked Shrike!

The next day we did manage to see the final stage of the Tour de France on telly, when I stopped at a small bar just before our campsite at Cognac la Foret. The kind landlord - who had only just emerged from his siesta - invited us into his own kitchen to watch the race, whilst he kept disappearing to serve people in the bar!

The campsite was situated just outside the village and, because of it's large size, the small number of visitors on site made little impression on the peacefulness of the place. We considered spending a couple of nights here and joining the relaxed manner of the other campers - with their sumloungers and picnic tables - but the place was so isolated we were a little frightened of getting bored.

We ventured north across the Viennes river to St. Jumien, where we discovered a Stoc supermarket and purchased our lunch. The daily grind of having to find somewhere to buy groceries - enough for breakfast and evening meal - was a real nuisance at times, but is something rarely considered if you are not moving around. On a bike, having to ride six miles to another village in the HOPE of finding an open bakers is not amusing, especially if you've been in the saddle all day. For this reason, if we saw a large store that offered everything we needed (especially at a low price), then it was important to make full use of it. We'd been caught out a couple of times, with little to eat, because we'd failed to do this.

From Availles we climbed up out of the valley of the river Vienne, and down to the Gartempe River at St. Savin. Both places are fortified with huge stone walls protecting the towns from attack across the water, and both have historic centres riddled with old Medieval buildings. We spent some time wandering around the streets admiring the Abbey, before light rain drove us back to the tent. The forecasted thunder and lightening duly arrived and kept us awake for much of the night - but at least we had the chance to talk about the ride and what we'd do once we were back in England.

We had to pack the tent away wet next morning, but hoped the skies would clear and allow us to dry it out later in the day. The weather was alot cooler that morning - which Jess preferred - and it certainly helped when we began the trudge up some of the long hills. As we came around one bend the sight of a ruined castle perched on the edge of a deep gorge met our eyes, and we just had to stop and take a photo. The steis the oldest part of the tiny village of Angles sur L'Anglin, but the whole place has a wonderful atmosphere of 'yesteryear'. We stopped at a picnic table to have lunch, and take in yet more of the scenery, before continuing our climb up and out of the Anglin valley.

An overnight stop at Dange St Romain, and then past the impressive structure of the castle at Chinon, which dominates the gorge through which we travelled. More rain followed, this time with some added hailstones (though thankfully not as large as those at campo les bains in the Pyrenees!), before we reached our next campsite at just north of the River loire. Englishmen say that you8re not in the 'real' France until you cross the Loire; now that we were north of the river did this mean we were nearly home? It still looked a long way on the map!

Admiring the view at Chinon

chapter seventeen

During the night the rain and hail lashed down, but since we'd positioned our tent away from the wind, no rain came in. After over a hundred days of camping in a real mixture of weather, it was reassuring to know that the tent was still reasonably waterproof - even if the door seam was a little suspect!

We were on the road early and heading north to Noyant, where we stopped for lunch. The weather had brightened up by this time which made our journey across the hills more pleasant, especially since we were now travelling through the Loire region with all it's famous chateaux. At Lathan we were disappointed to see that one particularly beautiful mansion was only open Monday to Thursday, but not today: this being a Friday! We would have liked to explore the subterranean labyrinth here, which is situated beneath the ornimental gardens, but had to add this name to our growing list of places we would one day have to revisit.

Our Michelin map revealed an ancient site just a few miles to the east, and since we were nearing our evening destination we decided to ride off and explore it. The Roman town of Cherre is nothing but ruins now, but is currently undergoing extensive excavation and restoration - which effectively means ebuilding some of the walls! We were able to wander over the site of the amphitheatre, theatre and forum; but the larger part of the town was temporarily closed to the public. However, we were still able to find several small pieces of broken Roman pottery and rooftiles on one of the spoilheaps, which we left for the archaeologists, before returning to our route at Masigne. Here we enjoyed a fairly quiet night on one of the municipal campsites beside a large lake.

Our journey continued to Sille le Guillaume where we camped in a lovely forest of tall oak trees - and discovered two toads resting under the tent - and then on to Bagnoles de l'Orne. This busy little spa town is still popular with old and infirm people who come to take the waters, and stay in one of the plush hotels. Unfortunately we didn't share their accomodation, but stayed at a nice campsite nearby, where we sampled the local rabbit at the rstaurant on site. And mighty fine it was too!

The weather changed next day, and we said goodbye to the hot sun and hello to humid overcast conditions. We also found the hills getting steeper, and the old sequence of first gear on the climbs and top gear on the descents resumed. Still at least we were a little fitter than the last time we rode through Normandy - back in April.

Golden sunflowers smiled as we passed by

As we neared Aunay, where we intended camping for the night, the rain got so heavy that we had to take refuge in a bus shelter until things eased off a little. However, once we'd reached the site things were no better as now we had thunder and lightening strikes just yards from us! We erected the tent in record time and as we huddled inside, trying to ignore the loud rumbles of thunder, we reminisced on what the weather was probably like at this moment in Spain..........

From Aunay we headed north to Bessin where we returned to the coast again after an absence of eighteen days - during which we'd ridden from the Mediterranean to the English Channel. We thought about stopping at Bayeaux to see the famous tapestry, but when we overheard some English people complaining what a disappointment it had been, we decided otherwise. Instead we had a look around the beautiful cathedral at Bayeaux and then explored a World War II museum devoted to the D-Day landings. We spent a couple of hours inside, examining all the artefacts that had been found over the years in the region, and even discovered that fierce fighting had gone on right where we were camped for the night!

The owner of the museum gave us a demonstation of how manoeverable his ex-Canadian personnel carrier was, before we left to enjo fish & chips beside the sea. By this time the sunshine had returned and we had a short stroll along Omaha Beach, complete with all it's war memorials, before returning to the tent.

The campsite was bursting at the seams with a massive influx of English, Dutch, French and (stangely) German tourists, meaning we had to rise very early next morning to secure a hot shower. With that done we left the crowds to themselves and rode off west to the village of Ste Mere-Eglise. This place is famous simply because of the film "The Longest Day" which shows John Waynes's paratroopers landing miles off-course in the main square. One notable scene includes one soldier getting caught up on the church's spire, and was left dangling there until the Germans shot him. This dramatic moment has been recreated especially for the tourists, since a dummy in full paratrooper uniform has been positioned on the roof, complete with mock parachute! we couldn't resist the temptation to take a couple of photos, and buy some postcards, before continuing north to the larger town of Valognes.

The rain had returned and since our ferry from Cherbourg didn't leave for another two days, we took the opportunity of stopping early and found a lovely old hotel for the night. It was still only mid-day, thanks to our very early start, and we wandered around the town buying all sorts of goodies for our lunch. For once weight wasn't an issue - nor was having a drink at lunchtime - and we feasted on a wonderful collection of quiches and salad, together with a rather fine wine!

We didn't get to see the tapestry but still thought Bayeux beautiful

With thoughts of returning to England uppermost in our minds, we took a long hard look at ourselves in the mirror of our hotel room. We were certainly tanned from all the Spanish sunshine but our dishevelled hair needed sorting out, so we had a haircut and then washed through our cycling gear - perhaps for the last time.

Our room in the hotel was apparently the favourite of a visiting French author of the nineteenth century - Jules Barbey d'Aurevilly - who wrote "Le Chevalier des Touches". We found a copy of his book in the room and glanced through it, before realising that our French wsn't up to reading a novel, and anyway we'd never heard of Monsieur Barbey!

It was now just twenty miles to Cherbourg, but the main road from Valognes was more like a motorway with it's juggernauts thundering past on their way to the ferry port. We decided to find a quieter routeinstead, and after a lovely ride through the Normandy countryside, we emerged on the eastern fringe of the city overlooking the docks. Down in the centre of town we asked the helpful tourist office for details of hotels nearby (we didn't want to risk camping as the weather was so changeable), and were quickly installed in the Hotel Moderna just a stone's throw from the harbour.

This was to be our last night in France, and after cycling almost four thousand miles in four months, we reckoned that we deserved a drink to celebrate our trip. So, after freshening up we had a nice stroll along the front, and found a bar with live music. The band played a selection of well-known English hits, as well as some traditional French songs, before the place filled up with people keen to listen to their music. We stayed until quite late but then tiredness overtook us, and we returned to our hotel.

Our ride was now over, and we were filled with the mixed emotions of returning to England - sad that our journey had come to an end but also eager to get home to a warm bed, hot bath, PG Tips, Branston pickle..........and all the other luxuries we'd had to forsake for the past few months!

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