Cycling France

We landed at Charles deGaulle Airport (NE outskirts of Paris) on May 25. After pumping up our bicycle tires we entered the Death Race 2001 (cars in and out of the airport) and headed straight for the French countryside and entered the Bread and Cheese Race 2001, successfully buying lunch before the sacred lunch time boulangerie and epicerie closing time.

We skirted the far edges of eastern Paris, giving EuroDisney a wide berth (not this year Euro Mickey!), lunched in front of our first chateau, camped at our first medieval fort at Blandy and reached magnificent Fontainebleau Chateau and adjoining forest: Enroute, we must have greeted half of France with "bonjour"; one car even pulled upto us to say "bonjour, bon courage".

Further south, we reached the Loire at Sully with late May temperatures over 30C, a sharp contrast to our cold wet 1998 visit. Chambord chateau was extravagantly beautiful. Attractive Orlèans was home to Joan d'Arc; if she wanted to beat the English, she should have learnt to play football or cricket. At the Blois Saturday market, we unwittingly bought politically incorrect strawberries (a passerby later advised us that the merchant was a member of the Front National, the right-wing facist political party).

We "chateaued-out" and headed further south through the Sologne and discovered that the village of Mur en Sologne had gone to the dogs. It was a pets only affair as dogs are one of the few things that the French do not eat. In the Brennes Lakes we were fortunate to see a full grown sanglier (wild boar) and later a complete litter cross the road. The French eat sanglier so they disappeared into the bush quickly.

Tailwinds blew us further south, or was it cheese flatulence? We stayed a couple of nights with the Holmgren family (Nepal 1984) at their several hundred year old farmhouse in Puychevrier. We chased after their free range chickens and found them to be surprisingly agile. Fortified with the best Indian food this side of Bombay, we struck out heading west. Alas, the curse of Puychevrier brought our first rain, but once we moved out of range, beyond Poitiers, the sun returned.

At Vouillé, the annual fair came to an unofficial grinding halt at 8:00pm Saturday, when everyone, including the midway operators, disappeared at the sacred hour to fill their stomachs. Through more hills, the froggy marais (marshland) we reached the Atlantic Ocean at stunning La Rochelle, one of the most attractive cities we have visited anywhere. People dressed in blue and white stripped tops with cellphones are de rigueur in La Rochelle.

We crossed the 4 km long bridge over the Atlantic for a mini-vacation on Ile de Ré. The island is a cross between Prince Edward Island and the Mediterranean. White houses with green shutters, sandy beaches, historic port towns, oyster beds, bird sanctuaries, potato fields, cypress pine forests and the wookie (long haired) donkeys all made accessible with its extensive bicycle path system make it a superb destination. Bicycles and topless bathers are de rigueur on Ile de Ré.

FOR THE RECORD

YTD TENT NIGHTS: 26 and moving up fast.

KILOMETRES IN FRANCE: 1120.

FLAT TIRES: 0.

BANANA INDEX: 5 for 1 USD or 7 bananas for 1 bottle of passable Bordeaux or Muscadet. The Europeans may have lost the banana wars but their is no sign of any Central American bananas.

From La Rochelle, we went inland to dodge rainstorms. Then the sun and warmth returned for a glorious 2 week stretch.

We crossed the Gironne (estuary) by boat to the northern tip of 250 km of beach, sand dunes and Western Europe's largest (pine) forest with miles and miles of bicycle paths. We cycled by a naked man walking his dog. Montalivet les Bains can accommodate 3,200 "naturiste" tents. The only thing covered were the heated swimming pools.

Carcans Plage is a surfer's beach and hang-out. At our campsite, we were surrounded by bongo drums on three sides. We slow roasting chickens continued south using sunscreen as a baste.

Le Porge Océan, a 45 minute drive from Bordeaux, is good for surf and swimming. the water must get rough at times because many of the women seem to have lost their bathing suit tops. There are no lifeguards on duty during the 2 hour (sacred) lunch time.

At Cazaux, on an inland lake, we camped near a French Air Force base; lots of impressive Mirage fighter jets. We are not sure if they fly during the lunch time, but we suspect an invading force would do well to attack France at around 12:30 pm.

We visited the Dunes of Pyla, Europe's highest at 114m. Sure, they are puny compared to Soussessvlei, Namibia; they don't have oryx wandering them and the steep bits are roped off, but they are still very cool.

Further south at Mimizan Plage, great dunes of wood chips (pulp mill) would warm the heart of every industrialist. The beach at Mimizan is pretty good too. Our routine of half day cycling, afternoon at the beach with every 2nd day off became well established.

We rode through Bayonne and Biaritz, entering Basque country (hilly!). We settled down near St; Jean de Luz (beautiful town and excellent swimming beach, no waves). Bongo drums were forbidden in the campsite.

Europe is full of surprises. Glenn did a quick day trip over the Pyrénees into Spain via the Col d'Ibardin, a miniscule 315m elevation. At the top/border, French people were pushing shopping carts buying cheap Spanish goods. Not to miss out on a bargain, Glenn picked up a 7USD bottle of Scotch. Don't all touring cyclists carry 1 litre bottles of whiskey?

The school holidays began on July 29; the average age at the beach dropped 4 fold. Kicking and screaming, Glenn dragged Sheila away from the beach into the mountains....

Basque country is like Switzerland with its chalets, flowers, cow and sheep bells, except it also has palm trees and banana trees. The quiet back roads have some wicked up and downs. Buzzards hover above, waiting for cyclists to drop dead.

Our tent nights stalled: we stayed with brother in law, Réal (on a short term contract in France) in a comfortable gite south of Pau. We enjoyed watching the rain from inside and drank Bordeaux Cru Borgeois wine (well off the banana index). We managed to get in a couple of nice hikes near the Spanish border including the Pic du Midi d'Ossau. But the real highlight was....

We left the gite at 5:00 am and arrived in Pamplona Spain to see the Running of the Bulls. Actually, we saw the backs of thousands of drunks all crowding around the very limited view points, but no bulls. This was a party: streets and squares full of empty bottles, people still drinking and dancing, some who had toooo much fun. Little police presence, just happy drunks. Later in the morning, we walked past many asleep in their cars with their feet up on the dashboard. They know how to party in Pamplona.

Lourdes is a centre of capitalism (trinket selling) and a religious centre too. We visited the grotto where a young woman had 14 visions of the Virgin Mary. There was no shortage of believers visiting the site. We filled our bottles with sacred Lourdes water and continued on (picnics are not permitted in the town).

More up and down riding in the mountains, more clouds and a poor long term weather forecast gave us all the excuses we needed not to do any of the big killer passes on our fully loaded bikes. We rode with the cows at Propriary (no crowds or drunks) and climbed the old castle at Aurignac.

We followed the Garonne River into Toulouse for Bastille Day, a wash-out, and onto the Aveyron Gorge. Limestone cliffs and medieval villages, then oak forests (truffle country) brought us to the more limestone cliffs and medieval villages in the Célé and Lot river valleys. At the Cahors saturday markt, we were once again drawn into political conversation!

Further north along the Dordogne, it was more limestone cliffs and medieval villages. The density of goose (liver) farming is easily matched by the tourism density, especially in Sarlat.

We caught the 16th stage of this year's Tour de France. Predictably, gastronomy features as the main event with thousands of people picnicing along the route, awaiting the arrival of the parade of sponsors throwing goodies at the onlookers. There are more cars than bicycles on the Tour de France. Oh yes, then the racers fly through in a flurry of colour and the sound of chains and wheels turning.

Those in the know, consider it to be a sissy tour; no panniers, they sleep in beds, compete with support vehicles, the riders do not do their own food shopping or food preparation, laundry and bike cleaning is left to others. Massages every day? They don't even communicate with the cows!

CLOSE CALL: Glenn slammed on his brakes as a white horse galloped across a field and flew over a fence across the road just in front of us. We now keep a close eye on horses in the paddock, but never look them in the eye.

WATER POWER: A squirt from the water bottle usually sends barking dogs yelping back into the house.

MARAUDING KITTEN: A kitty cat startled us by climbing on top of our tent in the middle of the tent. It took us a while to figure out what it was and how to get it out from under the tent fly.

FOR THE RECORD

Kilometres cycled: 3300

YTD tent nights: 63

Flats: nil

Trains taken: nil

In late July, Increasing numbers of tourists in the Dordogne drove us to Lascaux II which is a near exact copy of the Lascaux caves, site of the spectacular17,000 year old paintings. The nearby original caves are only accessible to scientists and politicians.

Limoges boasts an email museum. Don't expect a cyber experience because email means enamel in French. Limoges is a major producer of fine china. We decided to keep our plastic plates and bowls.

We stopped in at Puychevrier, home of the 3 remaining free range chickens. We remain convinced that it is one of the wettest places on the planet as every time we have been there it has been raining. In contrast we have visited Milford Sound New Zealand in the sunshine each time we have been there.

For the most part we kept away from touristic areas in August. When we arrived in the tourist office at Bleneau in Yonne department, the tourist officer was so overwhelmed with the arrival of a tourist, that she almost collapsed with joy. We felt obliged to take about 2kg of tourist literature but politely declined a further 10 kg.

At a goat cheese farm, we found that goats find Patagonia fleece to be in good taste. It was all quiet and presumably behind closed doors in the village of Orgy. It was all about grapes in Chablis and judging by the number of tourists, the "who has heard of Troyes" has obviously been discovered.

Epernay was our kind of town with free champagne served up at the tourist office. We discovered why champagne costs more than sparking wines. It is complicated to make and some one has to pay for all the marketing costs. Gone are the days of the free cellar tours of the big champagne wine makers. We paid our own way, so we are not going to mention their name for free in this missive.

We followed the French/Belgian border in the Ardennes. We made a brief incursion into Belgium. Our first impression was that food is more important there than it is in France.

We stumbled over the 5,000 kilometre mark and passed a long line of gas stations which indicate the Luxembourg border. We enjoyed an Uruguyuan barbeque and a nice week end with Eric and Enid.

Key Facts: Luxembourg is all of 100 km long and 60km at its widest point with less than half a million inhabitants. Luxembourgers speak their own language amongst many other languages. Cars stop at pedestrian crossings. Central American bananas are widely available.

It took us 2 weeks to cross the mighty Luxembourg. We stopped for a multi day rest and then on August 30, the Northern Europe summer ended. First cool weather, then rain rolled in. We were pinned down in the Ardennes by steady rain. We waited a further 5 days and watched lots of US Open tennis. We might have jumped on a train back to France but we decided to meet the rain head on in the Netherlands.

Our first Dutch stop was the sanctuary of Lloyd's (London 1994) apartment in Den Haag. Sheila's hopes of swimming in the North Sea were dashed by continuing rain and wind; an afternoon of coffee and cake in the warmth of a coffee shop overlooking the very busy North Sea was the best we could do.

We actually got back on our bikes and pedaled the region north of Amsterdam (Alkmaar, Hoorn, Enkhuizen, Volendam) and some very cool sand dunes. This is stereotypical Holland with wind mills, canals, flowers, cute farmhouses, wooden shoes (yes, really) and loads of waterbirds. Most impressive was the high cow count. Most surprising was the almost equally high sheep count. Most challenging was the wind and rain.

Amsterdam is always a delight. We stayed at Jeroen's (Guatemala 1996). The number of cyclists in Amsterdam and the entire country is overwhelming but now they include the latest fashion accessory, the cellular phone. There is a definite tilt to Amsterdam, especially the buildings, so much so that straight buildings and straight people look off-kilter.

With autumn rains well established, we abandoned plans to cycle to Calais, France and decided to make a 2 day dash for the ferry. Day 1 passed with only cold winds and showers through Gouda. On Day 2 we watched large lakes develop around the tent and we considered loading up our inflatable Thermorests and paddling our way out. Upon reaching Hoek van Holland in the pouring rain, we found the local campground closed due to flooding. Our next stop (England) looked like a warm, sunny holiday destination.

FOR THE RECORD

Netherlands banana Index: 4 for 1 USD.

Tent nights: 104 (we are faltering)

Kilometres on Bicycles: 6,000