The trip is over and today is a work day. While the residual jet lag remains I will do a simple documentation of the cycling route. The distance ridden includes within cities and towns.
1 June, Tuesday - Nancy to Nevers by train and camped
2 June, Wednesday - Nevers to Moulins by bike (100km) and stayed at a hotel
3 June, Thursday - Moulins to Clermont-Ferrand and then to Nevers by train to a hotel
4 June, Friday - Nevers to Bourges by bike (81km) and camped
5 June, Saturday - Bourges to Le Chatre by bike (95km)and camped for two nights
6 June, Sunday - Le Chatre
7 June, Monday - Le Chatre to Gueret by bike (96km)and camped for three nights
8 June, Tuesday - Gueret (rain)
9 June, Wednesday - Gueret (rain)
10 June, Thursday - Gueret to Ambrazac by bike (70km) to hotel (rain commenced at midday)
11 June, Friday - Ambrazac to St Yrieix by bike (70km) to camp (very difficult ride)
12 June, Saturday - St Yriex to Perigueux by bike (70km) to camp
13 June, Sunday - Perigueux to Poitiers by train to hotel
14 June, Monday - Poitiers to Loches by bike (95km) to camp
15 June, Tuesday - Loches to Contres by bike (60km) to Chambre d'hote.
16 June, Wednesday - Contres to Chambord to Blois by bike (50km)
16 June, Wednesday - Blois to Paris by train and bike (10km) to hotel
17 June, Thursday - Paris
18/19/20 June, Fri/Sat/Sun - Paris to Melbourne
Total distance ridden by bike - 727km
Flat tyres - none
Other damage - brakes in fall on train from Blois to Paris
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Dave, le anglais qui voudrait oublier
I met Dave at the Gueret camping ground. The manager had let both of us know of the presence of another English speaking cyclist. I went over to his site and started to chat. Soon I knew the basics of his story as he mine. Dave was around 40 and came from about 100 km north of London, he had been in France cycling since January this year, he had "issues" at home and he loved listening to the cricket.
I was most impressed with the fact that he cycled through the winter. This year had been a particularly severe winter in France. Dave was a strong believer in fate and told me a story about escaping a major Atlantic storm that had killed about 50 people. This, he attributed to a chance encounter and warning from another Englishman. He was an advocate of "wild camping" and this is what he mainly did so even being in a municipal camp site was a rarity. He had another story about being caught in the Alps with snow falling and a bicycle that was unsafe to ride. Here he was saved by two samaritans in a van.
We got on well for a while and discussed sport and politics quite easily. But reasonably quickly we lost interest in each other. A common language and interest in sport weren't enough to sustain the relationship. We shared a meal cooked (really more warmed) on his little stove. Even here, my choice of cheese was a point of difference. Dave had very simple food tastes.
It probably wasn't helped by my suggestion that he go back to England to deal with his issues. These issues are not for detailing here but, as can be expected, related to both home and work. Dave seemed a gentle soul and it was clear he wasn't ready for whatever confrontations were related to returning. Dave would rather sit out the rain in his tent listening to the cricket on the radio.
After two days of solid rain, I finally got away from Gueret early on the third day. Dave was still in his tent listening to the radio when I left. He poked his head out of the tent and we shook hands wishing each other all the best.
I was most impressed with the fact that he cycled through the winter. This year had been a particularly severe winter in France. Dave was a strong believer in fate and told me a story about escaping a major Atlantic storm that had killed about 50 people. This, he attributed to a chance encounter and warning from another Englishman. He was an advocate of "wild camping" and this is what he mainly did so even being in a municipal camp site was a rarity. He had another story about being caught in the Alps with snow falling and a bicycle that was unsafe to ride. Here he was saved by two samaritans in a van.
We got on well for a while and discussed sport and politics quite easily. But reasonably quickly we lost interest in each other. A common language and interest in sport weren't enough to sustain the relationship. We shared a meal cooked (really more warmed) on his little stove. Even here, my choice of cheese was a point of difference. Dave had very simple food tastes.
It probably wasn't helped by my suggestion that he go back to England to deal with his issues. These issues are not for detailing here but, as can be expected, related to both home and work. Dave seemed a gentle soul and it was clear he wasn't ready for whatever confrontations were related to returning. Dave would rather sit out the rain in his tent listening to the cricket on the radio.
After two days of solid rain, I finally got away from Gueret early on the third day. Dave was still in his tent listening to the radio when I left. He poked his head out of the tent and we shook hands wishing each other all the best.
Friday, June 18, 2010
La cuisine en France
It seems obligatory to write about the food in France. I had some lovely food but I also had so not so great food. Interestingly this variation is not always price related.
This was not a foodie holiday so the best food I had was to a degree accidental. It also wasn't made easier by the fatigue driven lack of appetite.
Stopped by rain at a small town called Ambazac, just north of Limoges, I checked into the only hotel. That night for dinner I had the most fantastic lamb shanks. I mention this because lamb shanks with white sauce was a favourite of my Dad. However these lamb shanks were not the same over cooked version and I have never been fan of white sauce. Sorry Mum! Now my enthusiasm for lamb shanks is renewed.
Another time, after riding through driving rain for 16 km from La Roche-Posay (a very touristy town) to a village called Preuilly, I had a fantastic "pub" three course lunch again with lamb as the main course. I think this meal sustained me for the rest of the 95 km I rode that day to reach Loches.
In most larger tourist towns and cities, there are plenty of "formule" restaurants offering prepared food. In my limited experience, in these towns your need to pay at least 50€ for a really good meal. In contrast, in smaller towns, you can get great food prepared for you for between 10€ and 20€, especially for lunch. Dinner is usually more expensive.
As for haut cuisine, I am not the person to ask. Sorry, not much to say on this score.
This was not a foodie holiday so the best food I had was to a degree accidental. It also wasn't made easier by the fatigue driven lack of appetite.
Stopped by rain at a small town called Ambazac, just north of Limoges, I checked into the only hotel. That night for dinner I had the most fantastic lamb shanks. I mention this because lamb shanks with white sauce was a favourite of my Dad. However these lamb shanks were not the same over cooked version and I have never been fan of white sauce. Sorry Mum! Now my enthusiasm for lamb shanks is renewed.
Another time, after riding through driving rain for 16 km from La Roche-Posay (a very touristy town) to a village called Preuilly, I had a fantastic "pub" three course lunch again with lamb as the main course. I think this meal sustained me for the rest of the 95 km I rode that day to reach Loches.
In most larger tourist towns and cities, there are plenty of "formule" restaurants offering prepared food. In my limited experience, in these towns your need to pay at least 50€ for a really good meal. In contrast, in smaller towns, you can get great food prepared for you for between 10€ and 20€, especially for lunch. Dinner is usually more expensive.
As for haut cuisine, I am not the person to ask. Sorry, not much to say on this score.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
La Voyage par velo est fin et les Bleues est battu!
Yesterday I packed the bike and the French team were well beaten by Mexico. I share with the French people a sense of relief that it has all ended.
I have been reflecting on the bike trip with mixed feelings. Riding across hilly Limousin and Dordogne and the still hilly Loire Valley in not great weather took its toll. But already after one day relaxing in Paris I feel a lot more positive.
However, overall, whilst a worthwhile experience, I haven't enjoyed it that much and wouldn't do it again this way.
Some of my family and friends think I am whinging so I will start with the positives. Firstly, I am fitter and more tanned than before. Just for the moment all my geriatic aches and pains have abated. Also, I enjoyed my various encounters with people and in writing about them. I have enjoyed the "drug" of the traveler, the constant movement and in particular the arriving and departing. I have enjoyed seeing the country change slowly and mostly I have enjoyed the French people, the odd jaded hotel or railway official aside.
The French are fundamentally and extremely polite and helpful peoples. Yes, I know much of the manners are institution but this is a good start compared to some other cultures including our own. I like the way they help if they can with such things as directions (very useful in big cities) and that when they walk into a bar in rural areas they shake everyones hand including yours just because you are there. The simple "d'accord, à gauche c'est mieux" from a busy mechanic as I tried to traverse Limoges will stay in my memory. Of course this does not mean the French are all peaches and cream and thank God for that.
What I haven't enjoyed has been the increasing fatigue. That feeling of non-specific pain in the legs and the lack of appetite brought on by a hig level of exhaustion. I am writing about this now because I am already beginning to forget. The constant up and down and changes of gear from 3/6 or 7 to 1/1 and back again. I was careful about water deprivation but could see some signs of it. There were stretches of road where it seemed that every truck in Europe was passing and these are narrow roads. I remember the 25 km stretch into Périgueux as much for its flat profile and lack of traffic as for the beatiful scenery.
However, what I didn't like the most was the solitude. Talking to yourself only works to a limited extent.
Au contraire, I enjoyed greatly that freedom a bike gives you to move and sometimes it seems like glide through a city or town. I am not a great one for the visiting of "sites". I prefer a purpose to my tourism and this is what the biking does. My last ride from Gare Austerlitz to my hotel was along the Seine and north along Bd de Sebastopol and other busy roads at 6.00 pm. This was with a broken set of front brakes (see a following posting on travelling on trains with a bike). This was a memorable trip as much for the observations of the behaviour around me as for the fact that I made it unscathed.
I hope this is the right mix of whinging and hopefulness.
I have been reflecting on the bike trip with mixed feelings. Riding across hilly Limousin and Dordogne and the still hilly Loire Valley in not great weather took its toll. But already after one day relaxing in Paris I feel a lot more positive.
However, overall, whilst a worthwhile experience, I haven't enjoyed it that much and wouldn't do it again this way.
Some of my family and friends think I am whinging so I will start with the positives. Firstly, I am fitter and more tanned than before. Just for the moment all my geriatic aches and pains have abated. Also, I enjoyed my various encounters with people and in writing about them. I have enjoyed the "drug" of the traveler, the constant movement and in particular the arriving and departing. I have enjoyed seeing the country change slowly and mostly I have enjoyed the French people, the odd jaded hotel or railway official aside.
The French are fundamentally and extremely polite and helpful peoples. Yes, I know much of the manners are institution but this is a good start compared to some other cultures including our own. I like the way they help if they can with such things as directions (very useful in big cities) and that when they walk into a bar in rural areas they shake everyones hand including yours just because you are there. The simple "d'accord, à gauche c'est mieux" from a busy mechanic as I tried to traverse Limoges will stay in my memory. Of course this does not mean the French are all peaches and cream and thank God for that.
What I haven't enjoyed has been the increasing fatigue. That feeling of non-specific pain in the legs and the lack of appetite brought on by a hig level of exhaustion. I am writing about this now because I am already beginning to forget. The constant up and down and changes of gear from 3/6 or 7 to 1/1 and back again. I was careful about water deprivation but could see some signs of it. There were stretches of road where it seemed that every truck in Europe was passing and these are narrow roads. I remember the 25 km stretch into Périgueux as much for its flat profile and lack of traffic as for the beatiful scenery.
However, what I didn't like the most was the solitude. Talking to yourself only works to a limited extent.
Au contraire, I enjoyed greatly that freedom a bike gives you to move and sometimes it seems like glide through a city or town. I am not a great one for the visiting of "sites". I prefer a purpose to my tourism and this is what the biking does. My last ride from Gare Austerlitz to my hotel was along the Seine and north along Bd de Sebastopol and other busy roads at 6.00 pm. This was with a broken set of front brakes (see a following posting on travelling on trains with a bike). This was a memorable trip as much for the observations of the behaviour around me as for the fact that I made it unscathed.
I hope this is the right mix of whinging and hopefulness.
Je suis arrivée à Paris il y a un jour et je parterai demain
The trip is finally over and I have packed the bike. Doing some washing right now because they might be rejected by customs for carrying banned or infectious substances!
I have some more postings of the gap in travelling and reflection and photos.
I have some more postings of the gap in travelling and reflection and photos.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Je suis arrivée à St Yrieix
I have arrived at this halfway point to Périgueux feeling the effect of the hills. Still I can see the end in site. I had a beer in a bar and saw a little of the opening ceremony for the World Cup. The French TV is obsessed about it.
I can sense I am now in the south of France. the architecture is changing. This particularly applies to the churches. They are Romanesque and very old. Really get a sense of the Middle Ages here.
I have some postings of my experiences over the last few days but am too tired right now to do them.
I can sense I am now in the south of France. the architecture is changing. This particularly applies to the churches. They are Romanesque and very old. Really get a sense of the Middle Ages here.
I have some postings of my experiences over the last few days but am too tired right now to do them.
La Pluie, la pluie battente et plus pluie! Mais, maintenant le temp est mieux.
I am just passing though Limoges and because I was stuck in Guéret for three days progress has been very slow. However I hope to be in Périgueux by tomorrow and then I will take a train back to the Loire Valley and away from these hills. However I am enjoying the riding.
Bon Journéé
Bon Journéé
Monday, June 7, 2010
Les Irlandais a seulement un oeil!
Vraiment, c'est vrai!
Well perhaps a bit of an exaggeration. However this was my experience in staying two nights at the Nevers camping ground. In both cases it was the right eye that was dodgy.
The first guy was very friendly and we chatted for a long time about this and that. He was surprised that I could recognise his accent as he was from the north. However a around 30 he may not have known that in the late 60s we were feed a daily dose of the Rev Ian Paisley and Bernadette Devlin. He was heading south with his partner on a moterbike and seemed very organised.
The second guy was a more problematic character. He had a bike of sorts but had taken the train to Nevers. We talked although the conversation was limited. I asked him where he was going and was it for holiday. His reponse was "me father died two years ago". Knowing something of Irish society I understand the importance of fathers and how this might set one wandering. He then asked me which way was south. I referenced my answer to the setting sun and hope it would help. The next morning we met again and he asked where he could get some soup and for a bike shop that could repair his brakes. He also asked where south was. I gave some suggestions for the soup and the bike repair and referenced my answer on direction to the rising sun.
A Dutch pilgrim (Never is on the pilgrim path to Spain)who had also talked to him what would become of him. During his last trip south he had had his drink spiked in Rome and lost everything. We had no answer.
I left Nevers in what I thought was a westerly direction and thinking whether I should have shared my soap with the boy (maybe mid 30s)from just south of Dublin. However, the Dutch pilgrim hadn't either so I stopped feeling so bad.
Well perhaps a bit of an exaggeration. However this was my experience in staying two nights at the Nevers camping ground. In both cases it was the right eye that was dodgy.
The first guy was very friendly and we chatted for a long time about this and that. He was surprised that I could recognise his accent as he was from the north. However a around 30 he may not have known that in the late 60s we were feed a daily dose of the Rev Ian Paisley and Bernadette Devlin. He was heading south with his partner on a moterbike and seemed very organised.
The second guy was a more problematic character. He had a bike of sorts but had taken the train to Nevers. We talked although the conversation was limited. I asked him where he was going and was it for holiday. His reponse was "me father died two years ago". Knowing something of Irish society I understand the importance of fathers and how this might set one wandering. He then asked me which way was south. I referenced my answer to the setting sun and hope it would help. The next morning we met again and he asked where he could get some soup and for a bike shop that could repair his brakes. He also asked where south was. I gave some suggestions for the soup and the bike repair and referenced my answer on direction to the rising sun.
A Dutch pilgrim (Never is on the pilgrim path to Spain)who had also talked to him what would become of him. During his last trip south he had had his drink spiked in Rome and lost everything. We had no answer.
I left Nevers in what I thought was a westerly direction and thinking whether I should have shared my soap with the boy (maybe mid 30s)from just south of Dublin. However, the Dutch pilgrim hadn't either so I stopped feeling so bad.
Logement en France
From the grand apartments of the smerter arrondissements of Paris to decaying farm houses there is for some an exotic and romantic allure. However there is also a lot in common with what we know.
Firstly, there is¨Paris. Paris is expensive to rent or buy and out of the reach of many. Yet there a many unoccupied homes. The situation is similar in larger regional cities with house prices rising significantly over the last few years. The newspaper headline today says there is a shortfall of 900,000 homes.
Some of the regional cities are now, courtesy of the TGV within commuting distance of Paris. For example, Nancy? which is 300 km from Paris is now only 90 minutes away by TGV. A regional city is a much better place to live than the Paris banluie (suburbs skirting the city).
In the more rural areas, villages are dying and there are plenty of derelict farm houses. In one village I came through there is a plaque celebrating a two week stay by Jeanne D'Arc in 1414. It looks like nothing more exciting has happened there since. Paradodoxically on the edges of some villages there is something of building boom happening. There a little villas with land around going up close to larger towns and cities.
France's population is now growing rapidly due to both natural growth and immigration. Where the Maillets live (Heillecourt) is housing development in response to the babyboomer growth period of the 60s and 70s. These are good developments with a good mix of housing type and excellent social facilities. I am not so sure the current reponse to growth is as effective. Perhaps Denis can provide an authoritive comment as this is something that interests all of us.
Firstly, there is¨Paris. Paris is expensive to rent or buy and out of the reach of many. Yet there a many unoccupied homes. The situation is similar in larger regional cities with house prices rising significantly over the last few years. The newspaper headline today says there is a shortfall of 900,000 homes.
Some of the regional cities are now, courtesy of the TGV within commuting distance of Paris. For example, Nancy? which is 300 km from Paris is now only 90 minutes away by TGV. A regional city is a much better place to live than the Paris banluie (suburbs skirting the city).
In the more rural areas, villages are dying and there are plenty of derelict farm houses. In one village I came through there is a plaque celebrating a two week stay by Jeanne D'Arc in 1414. It looks like nothing more exciting has happened there since. Paradodoxically on the edges of some villages there is something of building boom happening. There a little villas with land around going up close to larger towns and cities.
France's population is now growing rapidly due to both natural growth and immigration. Where the Maillets live (Heillecourt) is housing development in response to the babyboomer growth period of the 60s and 70s. These are good developments with a good mix of housing type and excellent social facilities. I am not so sure the current reponse to growth is as effective. Perhaps Denis can provide an authoritive comment as this is something that interests all of us.
J'arrive a Guéret
Actually this is not strictly true. I am 10 km short of Guéret and stopped for a coffee and then because I have ridden well, a beer too. I noticed the bar had an internet site so I take this opportunity to do some postings
It is after noon so respectible for an Anglo-Celt to commence drinking although I have noticed some of the French start a little earlier.
The terrain is hiller now and I am seeing lots of white Limosin cows. This is strange given I am in Limosin! I have left the dreaded wheat, barley and canola. The paddocks a more petite in both the French and English meanings.
Heading for Perigeaux so expect something after these three posting in about two days.
Glad to know the Auditors report is about to hit the desk. The only other work thing I wonder about is whether Bill has worked out the difference between income and expenditure. Right now I am trying but France is quite expensive.
It is after noon so respectible for an Anglo-Celt to commence drinking although I have noticed some of the French start a little earlier.
The terrain is hiller now and I am seeing lots of white Limosin cows. This is strange given I am in Limosin! I have left the dreaded wheat, barley and canola. The paddocks a more petite in both the French and English meanings.
Heading for Perigeaux so expect something after these three posting in about two days.
Glad to know the Auditors report is about to hit the desk. The only other work thing I wonder about is whether Bill has worked out the difference between income and expenditure. Right now I am trying but France is quite expensive.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
La Voyage me fatigue plus
There are times when you wonder why you bother to travel and then it is explained!
After the disappointment of the mountains (sounds like Phil of the SBS Tour de France commentary) I was dtermined to get kilometers under me. From Nevers I rode to Bourges and stayed one night. Bourges is nice enough with yet another magnificent 11th Century cathedral but I had trouble finding a meal but did get a good one in the end.
At 7 am the next morning I set out with a heavy heart to ride across yet more rolling hils of wheat, barly and canola but no people. I stopped briefly at Chateauneuf, a hole of a place with yet another cathedral (another story). I took a coffee at a bar and they reluctantly refilled my water bottle.
In even lower spirits in increasing heat I set off on a "sprint" across more plains of wheat, barley and canola (could be in a green Wimmera). I arrived at Ligniéres yet one mere liveless French small town at around 11.00. I was about to continue on to my ultimate destination of Le Chatre when something made me have a wander leaving my bike against a wall.
I found a small square with a large covered area rather like a farm shed with massive colums and beams. On part of this area was a motley collection of tables and chairs, none set but with what most interested me, a menu board. "Si vous plait, je voudrais manger?" With an affirmative? I settled down to a simple but very nice omelette and salad with a Pichet of cider. It doesn't take much to revive a boys spirits and for me, this was it!
As I take my coffee and look at the building opposite with pink shutters, I am mentally ready for more wheat, barley and canola. The Force is returning! As I leave the French are arriving to take thier Saturday lunch to a more normal routine.
After the disappointment of the mountains (sounds like Phil of the SBS Tour de France commentary) I was dtermined to get kilometers under me. From Nevers I rode to Bourges and stayed one night. Bourges is nice enough with yet another magnificent 11th Century cathedral but I had trouble finding a meal but did get a good one in the end.
At 7 am the next morning I set out with a heavy heart to ride across yet more rolling hils of wheat, barly and canola but no people. I stopped briefly at Chateauneuf, a hole of a place with yet another cathedral (another story). I took a coffee at a bar and they reluctantly refilled my water bottle.
In even lower spirits in increasing heat I set off on a "sprint" across more plains of wheat, barley and canola (could be in a green Wimmera). I arrived at Ligniéres yet one mere liveless French small town at around 11.00. I was about to continue on to my ultimate destination of Le Chatre when something made me have a wander leaving my bike against a wall.
I found a small square with a large covered area rather like a farm shed with massive colums and beams. On part of this area was a motley collection of tables and chairs, none set but with what most interested me, a menu board. "Si vous plait, je voudrais manger?" With an affirmative? I settled down to a simple but very nice omelette and salad with a Pichet of cider. It doesn't take much to revive a boys spirits and for me, this was it!
As I take my coffee and look at the building opposite with pink shutters, I am mentally ready for more wheat, barley and canola. The Force is returning! As I leave the French are arriving to take thier Saturday lunch to a more normal routine.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Je suis arrivée a Moulins
I rode up here this morning arriving at 12.00 noon. The 80 km was an easy ride. However with rain and conscious of not pushing too hard I decided to stay in a Hotel tonight.
Also, looking for the first time in detail at the maps I am not sure I have bitten off more than I can chew in terms of crossing the higher part of the Massif Central. I am taking the train from here up to Clermont-Ferrand and will see from there what is reasonable.
Also, looking for the first time in detail at the maps I am not sure I have bitten off more than I can chew in terms of crossing the higher part of the Massif Central. I am taking the train from here up to Clermont-Ferrand and will see from there what is reasonable.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Les Français
Some English speakers like to malign the French. This probably done to mask their own insecurities.
I find the French to be a very warm people. I am mindful of their efforts at greeting. It is always personal,direct and with meaning -"bonjour" and "ca va" and farewell is "bon journée and "au revoir". Then there is the double cheek kiss. At first like most English speakers I had a bit of trouble with but now I am right into it. This is because I see it for what it is - a sign of acceptance and friendship. It is really an honour.
The French are now very diverse. Sarah is the daughter of a Northern French father and a Madagascar born mother of Indian (Ismaeli) origin. The wedding that followed ours at City Hall was Berber from the High Atlas Mountains - lots of drums and wailing.
Whoever Les Fraiçais are they are adsorbing the warm Latin feelings of this culture.
I find the French to be a very warm people. I am mindful of their efforts at greeting. It is always personal,direct and with meaning -"bonjour" and "ca va" and farewell is "bon journée and "au revoir". Then there is the double cheek kiss. At first like most English speakers I had a bit of trouble with but now I am right into it. This is because I see it for what it is - a sign of acceptance and friendship. It is really an honour.
The French are now very diverse. Sarah is the daughter of a Northern French father and a Madagascar born mother of Indian (Ismaeli) origin. The wedding that followed ours at City Hall was Berber from the High Atlas Mountains - lots of drums and wailing.
Whoever Les Fraiçais are they are adsorbing the warm Latin feelings of this culture.
Je suis parti Nancy
This morning early I rode the fully loaded bike tentatively from Maison Maillet to Gare Nancy. The train trip to Never, the start of the ride is 3.5 hours via Dijon. This is the Bourgogne region, a land of wine, mustard, wheat cows and sheep. Very green and very rich agriculturally. In Dijon the influence of the Alps is beginning to appear but now as the train has turned west, the buildings are reveting back to the typical architecture of Lorriane, Champagne and Ardenne.
I have mixed feelings about the ride. Whilst there is a lot of freedom, it is quite lonely and at times physically demanding. However I know that once I get into a routine, I will begin to enjoy it. Tonight I am camping in Nevers amongst all the Dutch camper vans by the Loire River.
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