cbink

Bikes and trains. Pizza and rain.

Enjoying a view over Udine, Italy, on our one night in town.

Sometimes we get a very quick sense of how cycling in a region will be. We’ve cycled in Italy before, years and years ago, and were impressed with the smooth pavement and respectful drivers in Tuscany, but this part of northern Italy has not caught up with Germany, Austria, or France in welcoming cyclists. But that’s the roads, the cities are super walkable and beautiful. Udine was a lovely surprise with a pretty and walkable center.

Rich has his loaner umbrella ready, but the rain held off.

The warm glow of buildings in the twilight.

Pizza with mortadella, pistachios, lemon zest, and fiore de latte. Amazing.

With our deadline of a train from Milan we decided to make a train hop from Udine to Conegliano so we could make it to Treviso that day and spend less time riding in the rain.

Trains in Italy come with some predictable challenges: track changes. With loaded touring bikes a track change can be beyond hectic. Thankfully there were elevators at the Udine station so the track change at least didn’t involve stairs.

The look of a man whose patience with loaded touring bikes and trains is starting to wear thin. And is looking at 32k/20miles of rainy riding.

One of our less glamorous but very welcome lunch stops. Between the rain and the roads this pavilion looked like heaven to us.

Weather fit for ducks as we get to Treviso.

Outside our hotel in Treviso, trying to drip dry a bit before going inside.

We both had Treviso marked on our Google maps as an interesting place to visit – sort of a little Venice. An alternative to the magical city, with its own canals and own culture.

Canal side buildings absolutely bring to mind Venice.

Yes, a lovely view even in the near constant rain.

My Cleverhood Rain Cape had its time as I got really tired of wearing rain trousers and switched to tights and the rain cape.

The fish market (Isola della Pescheria) on an island in the Cagnan River.

Who wouldn’t be charmed by views like this?

You can see from this photo what Treviso has which Venice doesn’t: cars.

Our two nights in Treviso were fantastic. Even with a lot of rain. But the feeling we get in Venice, with no cars, not a whisper of car noise, is very different from Treviso. Definitely visit Treviso, but don’t be expecting the same scope of magic as one finds in Venice. It is much less crowded though, and a fairly short train ride from Venice for making a day trip one way or the other.

The arcades of Treviso made the rain less impactful.

They were a place to walk, to stop and chat.

And for restaurants to set up a charming scene.

What else did we find delightful in Treviso, the birthplace of tiramisu? Cicchetti, which are small bar snacks like tapas or pinxos, served alongside a beer or wine. A quick aside about bike storage in old towns. It’s not easy to find a hotel with easy and convenient storage for our bikes. The hotel Rich found in Treviso, Palazzina 300, were super accommodating and we were able to store our bikes in one of the owners’ fire wood room about a five minute ride from the hotel. Behind a locked gate and in a room stacked with wood for the winter. The owner pointed out the video camera watching the courtyard and assured us they would be safe.

The outside of a little osteria, cicchette on display in the window.

What? I can wander from place to place drinking and snacking? Sign me up please.

The charming and handsome waitstaff who help you choose your cicchetti from a glass case. Our second stop of the night.

Rich did a good job picking our first round. From the left, cod, zucca, and Gorgonzola and nuts.

My favorite was the zucca (pumpkin) and prosciutto.

Well fueled from our snack dinner (not really, Rich was super hungry the next morning.), we headed to the train station for a hop from Treviso to Vicenza, and then a 44k/27m ride to Soave.

We had a nice little ride through Vicenza.

Rich way finding through the narrow streets.

Piazza dei Signore. Italian cities and towns excel at big piazzas, plazas, and car lite or car free spaces.

Is that a bench? Then it must be time for a pastry break. That is a Pasticciotto, filled with ricotta based lemony filling. It got powdered sugar all over our clothing, which the mist then turned to sugar paste.

We were quickly out into the vineyards of the Veneto region.

Americans will likely remember the Soave Bolla commercials from the 70s and 80s, which probably gave most people a somewhat bad opinion of Soave wine. The ads were super cheesy and apparently, the wine not very good. But happily wine now made from the garganega grape is delicious, and in 2002 Soave received DCOG status and joined the ranks of well respected wine in Italy.

Soave Classico paired perfectly with the delicious pumpkin lasagna at Locanda ai Capitelli where we had a lovely stay and dinner.

A view of Soave over the vineyards as we headed out in the morning to ride to Verona to catch a train to Brescia to shorten our day to 58k/36 miles.

The harvest was in full swing. This nice workman smiled and waved when I stopped to take photos.

Garganega grapes waiting to be harvested. Such a lovely color. What would this paint color be named? Wine blush? Whisper?

And climbed a hill with a classic Italian view.

The riding was lovely at times, but again, not an area of Italy with very welcoming bike infrastructure. We saw plenty of Italian road cyclists, but not many other bike tourists, and precious few bike lanes or decent shoulders to ride on the busy roads. And no transportation cyclists. No one headed to the shops or to and from school. And the terrain can’t be totally to blame as much of our ride was gently rolling, staying on the edge of the foothills.

Traveling by bikes gives us such a range of experiences. We go from sweet little lanes,

To a coffee and chocolate break at a gas station cafe.

Verona! The Verona Arena is a Roman amphitheatre in Piazza Bra in Verona, Italy, built in 30 AD. And popular to visit on a Saturday in October.

But we can’t spend too long sightseeing, we have a train to catch.

Yay! Elevators at the Verona train station.

Laughing because… platform change! Second to last train of the trip.

Riding out of Brescia after our train hop, some nice new bike and pedestrian lanes.

My favorite sign in any language: Except bikes.

We had quite a bit of rain on this section of the trip. I don’t have a lot of photos of rain riding since it’s so hard to take pictures in the wet. And, since we were not quite into the colder part of the year we had a run of hotel rooms where the electric towel racks hadn’t yet been turned on for the season. No heated towel rack and wet weather makes it very difficult to dry our bike gear and other laundry. We had two days of riding still so when we got a working towel rail we sprang into action and did laundry.

A working towel rail – finally! At Hotel Touring in Cocaglio.

How many pizza dinners is too many pizza dinners in Italy?

We set out the next morning to ride to a town outside of Milan, Gorgonzola, 61k/44miles. As we approached Milan there were better bike paths and more folks out on bikes. We stayed outside Milan because the hotels in the city were quite full and expensive due to a pharmaceutical conference. Our hotel for our last night was close to the canal path that led right into Milan for our ride to town the next day.

Crossing the Oglio River and a photo bomb by a friendly local cyclist.

Espresso and gelato break in Caravaggio. With our days in Italy drawing down we knew we needed to eat gelato whenever possible.

Rich chatting with a local in Treviglio. This gentleman was a bike activist in town, pushing for the local routes to be improved and was happy to see bike tourists.

A restored water wheel that used to lift water from the canal to irrigate local noblefolks’ orchards.

You can see the buckets and channel that moved the water to street level.

Ciclovia della Martesana, a relaxing and popular canal path.

On the outskirts of Gorgonzola. Yes, where the cheese was first produced. We had it on (what else?) pizza that evening.

Our last evening in Italy. Tomorrow the ride to Milan and a train to Geneva.

Rich chatting with Massimo who saw our American flags and greeted us. The flags on our bikes are the best conversation starters.

We were in no hurry as we had several hours before our train left Milan Central. So we bumbled along the canal.

Into Milan, admiring the new bike lanes.

Hey! We have some of these Milan street cars in San Francisco.

Doobie doobie doo, somewhere else in Milan.

Cathedral de Milano. We had been expecting it to be rainy while we whiled away our hours in Milan so we were happy to ride around sightseeing and eating our lunch sandwiches in the Parco Sempione. But finally we headed to the train station.

That’s the train station at the end of the street.

We had a few things going for us with this final long train hop. First positive is that Milan Central is an end station, you reach all the platforms from the same level, so no elevators or stairs in case of track change. Our train started at this station so we should have a decent chunk of time to get our bikes into their reserved spots on one car, and ourselves into our reserved seats in the next car.

Up we go to the platform level on an inclinator. Still looking good and feeling positive.

Now we’ll just wait around until our platform is announced and we will proceed calmly to our train.

Ha! What really happened is that our train was late arriving and came in about 20 minutes late which put it cross platform from a Turin train arrival. The electronic tickets for just about everyone on our train did not work at the gates so the station agents had to check and let folks through one at a time – but with bikes we need the wide gates and for those we had to wait and wait and wait until we were just about the last folks to get through. With loaded bikes. Two trains unloading, and two trains worth of folks trying to load, equals one big mess.

At this point we just gave up. We figured the train wouldn’t be able to leave any time soon, so we just patiently shambled along the platform with everyone else.

Folks who were not convinced the train would wait for them started boarding many cars before their seats which meant the aisles of every car were impassable as people tried to walk along four, five, or even six cars to get to their seats. Our “reserved” bike spaces? Completely filled with giant wheeled suitcases by the time we got to our car. The palaver it took to get our bikes and panniers and us sorted was monumental. We were moving suitcases, bargaining with other riders, helped by a lovely young and patient passenger, and at first greeted with shrugs from the train attendants. They finally had us move to another car where the bike space had a few fewer suitcases in it, and we eventually got to our seats, hot, exhausted, and giddy with joy that we were on our final train ride of the trip.

Along with dinner Rich wisely bought us train wine during our station wait. We needed it.

Our final destination was a hotel in Annemasse where we would spend the night before tackling the climb up the Vallée. (We ended up getting a ride up the Vallée due to heavy rain and cold and exhaustion.) We told ourselves that if it was raining when we arrived in Geneva, or if we were too exhausted we’d just take the train to Annemasse. Another ha! The train tracks were being worked on and no trains running after 8 pm. We arrived at 9:30 and headed out to ride to Annemasse. Thankfully there is a first rate bikeway all the way so even in the rain it wasn’t awful. Just very wet.

Ah, Geneva Cornavin station. Now just a 9 km/ 5.5 miles to our hotel in Annemasse. In the rain. We made it.

Our loop in nights spent. Each green heart is a place we stayed. The far left heart is our good friends’ place in the Haute Savoie.

A few observations about our different experiences along the way. The Swiss are very no nonsense and straightforward. The bike infrastructure is good. Germany has really good infrastructure but it’s starting to be dated, and, with so many folks on e-bikes, crowded. Germans are gruff. They do not waste time being gentle. As I was pushing my loaded touring bike up a steep climb a man on an e-bike came down the hill. He took the time to stop and say to me “There are many steep hills ahead.”, with a rueful shake of his head at my blithe disregard of tough climbs. We could hear his internal question of why these silly Americans did not have e-bikes. A second German man cycling with his family, all on e-bikes, rode by and motioned to me with a wave of his hand and said “Come on, hurry. Keep up.” I snapped that my bike had no motor and when we encountered he and his family again they tried very hard to be nice. Was I holding a grudge? Why yes, I was.

By contrast the Austrians we encountered were more friendly, and the Italians! We were cheered up climbs with calls of Brava- Bravo! Almost every cyclist called out ciao ciao and smiled and waved. When I was caught in the bike race on a climb the spectators clapped and called out as if I was part of the race when I finally got on my bike to finish the climb.

Although the infrastructure for our northern Italy route was not yet in place it is underway. Alta Alia D’Attraversare is the website for the formal route we partially followed and which is mostly in place and being improved all the time. Worth checking out if you plan to cycle this part of Italy.

We’re in France until December 4th, the 12th arrondissement of Paris and then off to the UK for Christmas and New Year.

Salzburg and the Saint Rupert Festival.

Oh yeah. Festival stand selling cookies.

We’ve been traveling long enough now, entering our fourth year of nomadic life, that we have a good sense of when we need firm plans and when we can wing it. We planned on Salzburg. Always a good idea in popular cities to book ahead. Rich found a new hotel outside of old town that is one of the increasing number of hotels with no reception or staff. The Numa Salzburg Vogelweider. All automated check in and check out. Worked well. We could walk to old town in 20 minutes, it had a bike storage room, kitchenette, and grocery store across the street. As we looked at restaurants recommended by a friend’s Aunt (thanks Gisela and Tante Hannah) we saw that slightly ominous Google maps message that every traveler fears: Hours may vary due to St. Rupert’s Day.

Thank you for the warning Google. Now who is this Saint Rupert? And what might his day mean to our stay in Salzburg?

With stalls selling all kinds of things like cookies?

And beer and wine? (That wine stein was not as huge as this photo makes it look.)

With loads of happy people in Tracht, or traditional dress.

Saint Rupert is, among other things for which he is venerated, the patron Saint of Salzburg. Born around 660, he is usually portrayed with a vessel of salt, as he helped establish the salt mining industry around the city which he named for salt: Salzburg. And, the city throws him one heck of a five day festival every year around Sept. 24, which is the day his relics (bones) were transferred to the Salzburg Cathedral in 774.

Folks are encouraged to wear Tracht, traditional dress, and they do.

Nothing cuter than a little one in Lederhosen.

The city makes a lovely backdrop for the festival.

Traditional dress, or Tracht, is more popular now in Austria and Bavaria than it was ten or so years ago. I love this. But, I do admit that I have a little squeamishness about the clear gender lines of the outfits. What if you as a woman don’t particularly like dresses (Dirndls)? Why, I asked Rich, don’t ladies wear lederhosen? Well the ladies are way ahead of me and they are wearing lederhosen.

Dirdnl or lederhosen. Whatever you prefer.

We visited the festival, which is centered around the cathedral, all three nights we were in town. we spent our two rest days walking around the city, hanging out in our hotel catching up on laundry and travel planning, and resting up for our climb over the alps to Italy.

We put in our earbuds and did the Rick Steves walking tour early in the morning. Before the crowds got going.

Visiting the cathedral while it’s quiet.

The water mill, built in the 17th century and in use up to 1958. Restored in 1975. Hohensalzburg Fortress in the background.

A restorative caffeinated beverage later and we were ready to climb up above the old town.

The edge of old town butts into Mönchsberg hill. Literally.

Up we go. Up to
Mönchsberg, one of the five mountains of Salzburg.

Getting a bird’s eye view. And leaving the increasingly crowded old town behind.

Charming little winding streets on
Mönchsberg.

And stunning views of the fortress (which we skipped visiting.).

Between walking to old town and climbing up Mönchsberg, and back to old town that evening for festival fun, our first “rest day” totaled over 10 miles/16 kilometers of walking.

Mirabell Palace and a happy second rest day. It’s not often I talk Rich into two rest days in a row. But it was my 60th birthday.

Spending all of our days on bikes doesn’t mean we’re tired of thinking about bikes on rest days. We enjoy seeing what cities have done for bikes. Bikes are one of the best ways to get around a city. Our second rest day we spent avoiding the morning rain and doing laundry, and then walking around admiring bike infrastructure. Before going back to the festival. Gotta love a five day festival. And what did we eat while in Salzburg? Raman twice, once for dinner and once for lunch, Indian food for dinner once, and burgers at the festival. We usually go for Asian food when we’re in cities since it can be tough to find while biking in rural areas. Gotta get our eat around the world fix.

Our first hint that Salzburg would be a good bike city was this bike path hung under a bridge over the Salzach River on our way into the city.

The bike station at Schallmoos train station.

So many bikes parked in a relatively small space.

My favorite sign. Except bikes. No entry, except bikes. One way street, except bikes. No right turn, except bikes. Love it.

I’m sure every city has bike theft problems, but the seemingly carefree locking of bikes sends a nice message.

Wandering around old town admiring the shops full of things we don’t buy is another fun pastime.

Fancy umbrellas. Yes please, but how to carry on a bike tour?

Little chocolate hedgehogs! Ok, these I would have bought if the shop was open.

And the famous sites of Salzburg played second fiddle to Saint Rupert.

Rich’s favorite. A half liter of draft dunkel.

Our trip so far. Far left heart is Geneva area, train to Zurich, and the blue dot is us in Salzburg. Hmmm…there seems to be a big mountain range between us and our next country, Italy. Did we rest enough?

The happy travelers and their rest days strategy.

The Bo-Ko. That’s Bodensee to Königssee-Radweg to you and me.

Talk about spoilt for choice. Which route?

Not the angel hugging a pretzel route. Or the horse cantering over mountains route. Not the Mooserunde. Or the Spitzenblick. We were mostly on this one. The Bodensee-Königssee Radweg.

Storm Boris was still lingering over Bavaria, so wet roads.

But the snow on the alps made for dramatic scenery.

The ride into Oberstaufen where we spent the night.

Bavarian towns certainly know how to plant flower beds.

And we know how to class up a nice hotel: hang wet bike shorts in the window to dry. Oberstaufen was a bit pricy, so a good time to use some Hyatt points at the Linder Hotel.

Heading out of Oberstaufen. Still cloudy.

Owly! Amusing roadside art? Advertising?

Pastry break at 20k. Yes that is sunshine.

Another farm field cat. So many farm cats.

The Großer Alpsee and a happy cyclist. The alps are peeking through the clouds.

After five days of peddling starting to feel strong.

The quiet town square on a Sunday in Immenstadt.

With a sweet cat happy to accept petting.

Now for some jaw dropping views of the alps with a coating of fresh snow and clear air post storm.

But first a nice long break on a trail side BarcaLounger. The Bo-Ko has good amenities along the way. We were early for check in at our hostel so we took a nap.

It was a good thing we weren’t pressed for time, each view was more stunning than the next.

See what I mean? Will you go stand in that field please?

The forecast for the next day, Monday September 16, was pretty miserable. Wet and cold. Loads of discussions about train versus no train. We decided to start out and see how the day went. We were riding close to the train route so if it got really miserable we could bail and take a train hop. Unfortunately I had a cold coming on. I’m pretty sure no one ever prescribed a long cold wet day riding a bike as a cold remedy. It’s not easy to skip some beautiful riding though, so we started out in light rain.

We set out. Bravely. And then the rain came.

Sheltering in a rural bus stop where a kitty came out to cheer me up.

And finally sheltering at a small train station. We took a train hop to save ourselves a few hours riding in the rain on the way to Füssen.

Füssen is where both Neuschwanstein Castle and Hohenschwangau Castle are located. The heavy cloud cover and rain hid both from view for our one night in town. Bike touring is like that. We see so much that only other bike tourists see, but when we get to town, we tend to see less, especially when cold and tired from a long wet day. The weather was forecast to clear up, and we planned a rest day in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, our next stop. We veered off the Bo-Ko route into Austria for a stop here, and we’ll join it again after Garmisch-Partenkirchen before leaving it to go to Salzburg.

Füssen has a lovely main pedestrian street.

Riding out the next morning along the Lech River into Austria.

A curious cow greeted us at the top of a climb. Those cattle guards we went over were there for a reason.

Heiterwanger See is ridiculously beautiful.

Plansee, the connected lake, is also stunning. A long gravel decent is waiting for us at the end of the lake.

Rest day in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. And such beautiful clear skies post rain.

What to do on a rest day? Let a gondola carry you up the mountain.

To be specific, the Wankbahn carried us up to Wank. 1,780 meters/5,839 feet is the peak of the Wank.

Yes, we made all the jokes all the way up and down.

And yes, we got to be the silly tourists wearing sandals in the snow.

One of these things is not like the others.

The view across to Zugspitze peak in the snowy alps was spectacular.

The Zugspitze is over Rich’s shoulder to the left of the photo. 2,962m/9,717f.

Another dinner, another healthy German pour of white wine. A Rivaner, or Müller-Thurgau.

Heading off down the Loisach River valley. This beautiful day certainly makes up for riding in the rain.

When the sun is shining everything is more fun!

Like this chicken made from big hay bales advertising the egg hut where you can buy fresh eggs.

And the stork signs announcing a new baby for this family! (I blanked out the last name.) We saw a lot of these, what a fun way to celebrate and let your neighbors know the baby has arrived. By stork, right?

And the houses painted with religious imagery.

We have Salzburg in our sights, just three more nights before we cross into Austria and have three nights to enjoy the city. We won’t go all the way to Königsee, the end of this route, since it’s a bit of a dead end for us. At this point my cold is waning (or was it getting worse still? Who can remember.) and my rear end was getting used to the hours on the bike. Feeling good. Got my blue tooth speaker on my bike, pod casts, music, pastry. I can pedal all day. Rich can always pedal all day. He’s a monster.

Does every German town have a lovely pedestrian street?

And off again. Our route took us through a golf course.

Through farmland where farms advertised their products.

Tegernsee was a perfect pastry break spot, complete with shaded BarcaLounger.

Tiny churches dot the countryside in this Catholic region.

Hey Rich. I think there’s a cow behind you.

Farm cat who owns the road. They came out for a cuddle.

Always appreciated after a long day which included a flat tire on Rich’s bike – ice cream vending machine!

And a lovely cafe set up to sit and enjoy the ice cream.

Garden goals. Love the giant teacup pot.

One of our many room hacks. This helps block the light through the too sheer shades. I’m particularly pleased with clothes hanger ladder. Just be careful to not overload.

We rode into Salzburg on a Sunday. So many other cyclists out.

Traditional house and garden under modern solar panels.

From leaving our dear friends’ place in France, we’ve pedaled 600 k/372 miles so far. One flat tire on Rich’s bike, which did already have a slow leak, but was only our second flat on these new bikes (shhh…don’t jinx it!).

The far left heart is where we started, biked into Geneva and took the train to Zurich. The blue dot is us in Salzburg.

Although the map makes it look as if we were not in the Alps, we did have some substantial climbs and decents. Although the mileage isn’t massive, there was 5,000 meters/16,400 feet of climbing, on loaded touring bikes. Sometimes on dirt or gravel roads and paths. Phew. No wonder I needed this rest in Salzburg.

Four countries in four days. By bicycle.

To Californians who are accustomed to having to drive hours to leave the state there’s a funny thrill to crossing country borders. Even the non-controlled sometimes unapparent borders of the EU.

Heading out of the Vallée Verte, France. And into a cool and wet weather pattern.

First stop: Boulangerie. On to Switzerland.

Even more fun when you ride a fantastic bikeway from France into Switzerland.

A map of our travels by bikes in Europe would look like the wanderings of a neighborhood cat, on a large scale. Between vacations when we worked and our post retirement bike tours we’ve crossed, criss crossed, meandered, train hopped, ferry hopped, head down and pedaled, woken up with no plan, gone with the tail wind, and any other description you can think of about our pedaling in Europe.

Our last bike tour, spring of 2024, started the same way, pedaling to Geneva, but we pedaled right through and out the Via Rhona. This time we hopped a train to Zurich, Switzerland, to get us to a new starting point.

Dueling train lunch decisions. Gazpacho for me, not Rich’s favorite.

We stopped outside the train station in Zürich to put on all of our rain gear and started the 10k ride to our hotel.

After a good nights sleep, which was very welcome as the jet lag got us bad this time, we headed out towards Wil, Switzerland. Riding out of Zurich was like riding out of any city, getting through big box store areas, crossing highways and motorways, through large roundabouts, and finally seeing the wide open countryside. Well, almost any city. In the Netherlands of course, you can easily ride anywhere – including into and out of big cities. We still reminisce about our ride through Utrecht a few years back and how absolutely easy it was.

Welcome to my world. And don’t feed me, said the sign on his fence.

One of our pastimes while traveling is building the perfect country, taking our favorite things from each place we visit and adding them to our fictional nation. We didn’t get very far on this ride before I was reminded of my favorite thing from Switzerland, Austria, and Germany. So many farm cats wandering the fields.

Usually the farm cats are too far away or too skittish for photos, but this one came over for a visit.

And then started following Rich up the road.

This covered bridge had windows and ladders so you could admire the view.

Some cow barns have automatic scratchers which start turning when the cow leans into the brush.

I’m sure the locals and farmers laugh to see us snapping photos of their farmyard animals, but who can resist chickens wearing feathered footies?

Smooth smooth asphalt on the bike paths.

Apple season! There are so many apple trees. Well tended orchards and random trail side trees. We only pick apples from those which are not obviously part of someone’s orchard.

Our lovely historic room in Wil. This is before we dumped the contents of our panniers everywhere.

The view over Wil from our hotel. The clouds are so dramatic.

We’d been lucking out with the weather, grey skies and threatening clouds and we got to Wil before the rain and hail front moved through. The hail did catch us out without an umbrella and forced a dinner decision on us – the close burger place versus the Thai place which would have meant arriving drenched. And did we walk out of our hotel right past a big bucket of umbrellas to borrow? Yes. Lesson learned.

Heading out after our second and last night in Switzerland. It was a cold morning.

What’s the first stop? A bakery. Always.

No, this giant cookie did not come with us.

Apple trees so loaded that their limbs are propped up.

More apple trees. And threatening skies.

The villages, all centered around a farm, are so charming.

And welcoming. With benches and a fountain.

A perfect place for a pastry break. And then the rain came down.

And a very nice woman across the street invited us to shelter under her barn overhang.

Climbing up, we’re almost out of Switzerland now, about to cross into Austria. My handle bar covers are still working well. Keeping my hands warm and dry.

Beautiful Swiss cows wondering why we are leaving Switzerland.

The signage makes you feel so welcome as a cyclist or hiker.

Schloss Hagenwil. We went inside and had a look around. Mostly restaurant space but quite stunning.

Hagenwil is the only intact water castle remaining in Eastern Switzerland. Imagine what it took to build and maintain this castle.

Lake Constance to the Swiss and Austrians or Bodensee to the Germans.

A train crossing. That’s an Austrian train. We’re so close!

Wait! How did we get on this side of the border already? We’re in Austria after crossing a little bike pedestrian bridge.

To refresh your Austrian geography, here is a map. The little left side tail which touches the lake is where we entered. That’s Lake Constance.

Our one night in Austria would be in Hard, and we were both quite impressed with the space for bikes and pedestrians on this bridge into town. The engineer said “Now that’s how you build a bike lane on a bridge.” Yes, we’re looking at you West Span SF Oakland Bay Bridge.

Another pristine hotel room. Before bag explosion. As a bonus, it started to hail just after we checked in. This early and cold storm, named Boris, will dump snow on the Alps and cause flooding in Czechia and Austria. We are fine though.

Another cold and wet day. I’m clutching my tea thermos which is extra swaddled to keep it warm. And a bag of pastries.

My favorite: quark tasha. Like a cheese danish. And a photo bombing Rich.

Riding through the countryside gives us a bucolic look at a place. It’s unique and refreshing to us, coming from the western USA, to be able to ride from town to town on safe connected pathways. We are used to some cities, including our own San Francisco, being quite bicycle friendly, but if you were to ride town to town, or city to town in the US, you would find almost no bicycle infrastructure. You would simply be sharing the road with large fast moving motor vehicles. That’s why crossing county borders by bike like we are still thrills us. It’s why we travel, to see what it’s like away from home. To get to do something we don’t do in the Western US.

And speaking of borders, hello Germany! Country four, day four.

Bavaria. The southernmost state of Germany’s five states, and the largest by land mass.

The happy travelers- some cold wet days have tested us, but we’re still standing.

Summer time is social time.

Riding across the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge (the 520) in Seattle.

Our month long stay in SF was filled with visiting friends, enjoying our house sit kitty buddies, a trip to Chicago for Rich, a visit from my sister Kathy, and a trip to Colorado for me, and loads of cycling and hiking with friends for Rich.

A walk in SF with local and visiting friends.

Rich on an urban hike with his friends Mike and Fred. Just three retired guys wearing hats and having fun.

Dinner with good friends. How amazing to be able to host a dinner party.

Rich, my sister Kathy, and me after a bakery stop. Enjoying the pastries and the views from Alta Plaza Park in SF.

Dinner with the upstairs neighbors, Gisela and Randall.

Rich having a moment with our mailing address.

Oh yes, a word about our mailing address and our residency. We are California residents. It’s where we pay taxes and vote. We are lucky to call home a place where our city and state want us to vote. We’ve heard of other full time travelers from other states who are getting removed from the voting rolls due to using a mailbox service, and having to re-register and make their case for voting. Thank you San Francisco for making voting accessible.

Sunset light for a family photo. My mom with all four of her children in Colorado.

July on the Grand Mesa means wildflowers.

A dramatic sunset in Grand Junction making a lovely backdrop for Lorilie the ranch Dalmatian.

And a dramatic sunrise to bookend the night. Yes, there was smoke in the air from western fires.

With Mom and Chuck at the Fruita Farmers Market.

Meanwhile, back in San Francisco, Rich is single handedly wrangling two cats! A chill contemplative cat moment.

Dinner at our friends’ house in Oakland. We miss these kind of get togethers when we’re on the road.

Keeping in touch with our friends in the US is so important to us. During past visits we’ve run ourselves ragged trying to see as many of our friends and family as possible. It leads to exhaustion. Our solution this trip was to stay longer, thanks to our good friends Nancy and Mike who let us stay at their house and take care of their kitties for the entire month of July.

With friends, Robin, Jeff, and Rob, sitting in a beer garden in SF. July in SF means down jackets.

Crocheted birdies on a street tree on Page Street in SF.

As if having two cats to look after and cuddle wasn’t enough, Gisela and Randall got kittens!

Which of course meant kitten cocktail parties.

Following one of Nancy’s walks in GG Park for a book she is working on.

A month of San Francisco socializing done we got into a rental car and headed towards Seattle. We stayed two nights in Ashland, Oregon, just long enough to marvel at the huge trees and go for a walk in Lithia Park. We spent the hottest part of the day hiding from the heat in our hotel room.

And another huge tree in someone’s front garden.

Will we get a handle on fires by letting nature handle it? And letting fires burn?

Our walk in Lithia Park was thankfully mostly shaded.

From Ashland Oregon we went all the way to Seattle in one day so we would have time to spend with our dear friends Christine and Cecily before they left for a trip.

A walk in Saint Edward State Park. Rich rode there and met us.

Picnic with new friends Chris and Katherine who we met in Borneo.

Warm summer evenings. Something we rarely had in San Francisco. Dinner outside – without jackets!

Rich was thrilled to go for a ride with Annie, who showed him a great Lake Washington loop.

Erika shared some of their garden bounty with me.

Even though the weather turned to grey the shorts stayed. On the ferry to Whidbey Island to meet up with more friends.

Linda and Steve, fellow nomads. You can follow their nomad journey here.

We were fortunate enough to book two house sits during our time in the Pacific Northwest through Trusted House Sitters, and our first sit in Bellingham was about to start. If you are interested in house sitting we do recommend THS.

The Happy Travelers, enjoying a PNW summer.

Still to come, the sit in Bellingham, back to Seattle for another ten days, then down to SF to get ready to fly to France to be reunited with our touring bikes again.

One night in Lisbon and on to the USA

Tap airways seems to have become our airline of choice to get from Europe to the USA. Their one way pricing and timing of flights works out well. Rich can buy extra leg room seats, and the planes they fly have a 2 4 2 seat configuration so we can sit just next to each other. No dreaded middle seat. Since TAP flights from Geneva go through Lisbon we can spend a night or few days there. This trip we spent just one night in Lisbon, at a hotel on the red line so it was easy to get from and back to the airport. This is what traveling with a master planner is like.

Enjoying a warm summer evening in Lisbon.

Hanging out at our favorite little park, Jardim Fialho de Almeida.

So what is it like coming back to USA? Busy. We try not to go crazy with over scheduling, but there are always so many people we want to visit. In the past we’ve landed in NY or Chicago and stayed with friends or at a house sit. This time, arrival June 1st, we stayed in a hotel in downtown SF for two nights (friends had come down with Covid so we pivoted). That gave us time to go out to our storage unit, recover from jet lag a bit, and have a wander around downtown before heading to our first house sit with two cats not far from Golden Gate Park.

Salesforce Park above the beautiful transit center in downtown SF.

The retired engineer reflects on his experience working on the transit center.

It’s an odd feeling to stay in a hotel in what was for so many years our hometown. It was the first time we’ve ever stayed in a hotel in SF so we leaned in. The Galleria Park Hotel had a nightly happy hour with a signature martini, or wine. We settled into cozy chairs and chatted with a fellow guest from Oroville, California. It’s a social buzz to get to the US and be able to talk to everyone again. Thankfully Californians are quite friendly.

These two were much friendlier than this photo makes them look.

Storage unit mayhem! It’s fun shopping for clothing in your storage unit – everything is your size and in your style.

Our summer schedule was built around our niece’s wedding. That was our first must not miss event. A stop by the storage unit to get clothes for the wedding was good timing, as we discovered that moths had moved in. We’ve had our things in this storage unit for almost three years and haven’t seen a moth. I assume they came in with someone else’s stuff and flitted around looking for tasty wool. I left a wool sweater loose on top of a bag last January. That obviously was like a formal invitation to dinner for moths. We spent a few hours moving our clothing from cardboard boxes to plastic containers with cedar blocks in them. Other than that one sweater we saw no visible damage. Hopefully we’ve made our storage unit inhospitable to the moths.

The cleaned up version of us. Clothes from the storage unit.

It was a little warm even up in the mountains, so a pre-wedding creek foot dip was welcome.

Our niece and her new husband. A gorgeous and fun filled wedding.

The wedding venue, Gordon’s Rim Rock Ranch.

Lights and fire pits as the sun went down and the fun continued.

The wedding was up near Mount Shasta, Old Station in Shasta County. It’s a beautiful area, shaped by the volcanic activity of nearby Mt. Lassen in Lassen National Park, and Mt. Shasta a bit further north.

Rich and his step mother out for a hike.

Information signs as you walk through and marvel at how a lava tube is created.

And out the other side a stunning view of Mt. Lassen. It’s actually named Lassen Peak and it’s a
10,457 ft (3,187 m) lava dome. Last eruption 1914 to 1921.

After the wedding and lovely visiting time with family we headed out to stay with friends near Redding before driving back to SF to catch a flight to Grand Junction, Colorado. If you’re wondering about logistics, at this point back in the US we took BART from the airport to downtown SF. A car share out to our storage unit, a MUNI bus to our first SF house sit and, then after our house sit a rental car to the wedding.

A stop by McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park and a peek at the 129 foot waterfall.

This osprey parent with chicks in the nest helpfully built their nest trailside. What a classic sight. Huge nest on a tall snag.

Mt. Shasta,
elevation of 14,179 ft (4,322 m). Last eruption 1250.

Grand Junction Colorado is another frequent stop for us, where my Mom and Sister live. It’s been another home for us during our three years of nomading. We are thrilled to have Breeze Airways flying directly from SF to Grand Junction now.

Kathy, Mom, Rich and Lorilie – the ranch Dalmatian.

Some sunset dog play time. The extra dog, Mo, belongs to a niece – he comes to ranch camp when she is traveling.

A cloudy day feels rare in the Grand Valley. Made for a nice hike in the canyons near Fruita.

Look at those lovely clouds. And handsome husband.

My sister getting the newly cut and baled hay in before the rain started.

Mom and I helping by staying hydrated. It was hot.

Kathy took some time away from work to take us up to the Grand Mesa where it was quite a bit cooler, and beautiful.

Sisters with a view. That’s the Grand Valley behind us.

Always take photos. It brings back the feel of the day.

The 500 square miles (1,300 km²) of the Mesa rises 6,000 feet (1,800 m) above the river valley. Since Grand Junction is already 4593 ft / 1400 m above sea level, you definitely notice the altitude.

A haircut for Mom. She’s a good sport and not too picky with the job I do.

After our Colorado stay it was back to California again to visit more friends and family. A night in Redwood City, two nights in San Luis Obispo, and on to Moorpark where my brother and sister-in-law live. It’s a good thing all our bike touring has made us good at packing and unpacking. It’s tempting when you have a rental car to gather more stuff to take with you, but we try and keep our life lived from a rental car as minimal as possible.

With our friend Jim hiking the coast near San Luis Obispo.

With Chuck and Linda in downtown Ventura, a nice pedestrian street with cute local shops.

From Moorpark we took the Metrolink train to downtown LA to visit the Broad Museum and have a wander around.

Always check out the bike car, even when we don’t have bikes. Nice. A very good use of space.

We were post rush hour so the train was not crowded.

The Broad Museum. Designed by Diller Scofidio + Renfro in collaboration with Gensler. It’s a stunning building and entry is free by timed reservations.

Under the Table, by Robert Therrien. Or, as I called it, Rich gets to feel like a cat.

Red Block. Born in Ghana and based in Nigeria, El Anatsui crafts bottle caps, reused aluminum commercial packaging, copper wire, and other materials into giant shimmering sheets of what he calls “cloths.” We saw another of this artist’s works at the Guggenheim in Bilbao.

A day at the coast and time to enjoy the newly renovated Point Dume State Park in Malibu.

We saw workers continuing to remove invasive plants and encourage the native plants.

After a great stay in Moorpark it was back in the rental car and back to the Bay Area. We’ve been eagerly awaiting a house and cat sit for friends for the entire month of July in our old neighborhood in San Francisco. Our second summer must do. That’s where are now. Not only do we have two wonderful goofball cats to live with and love, but it’s Tour de France time, so, after fetching our big screen from the storage unit we introduced the cats to the joy of watching the tour.

The great thing about the Tour, according to the kitties, is loads of lap time.

Rich and his riding buddy Fred at a foggy Golden Gate Bridge.

So what’s next? After a wonderful month in SF full of catching up with friends and being happily in one place for a change, we’re headed to Seattle for the month of August. We have friends to visit and one house sit lined up. Have a wonderful summer.

The happy travelers having a chill summer.

Riding out of Paris to Fontainebleau and beyond.

From where we stayed in the 12th, Fontainebleau would be an hour by car, or an hour and 15 minutes by train. But where’s the fun in that? Where’s the sense of geography and urban transition to countryside? Where, I ask you, are the super muddy trails and deep puddles when going by train? Ok, that last part wasn’t exactly a selling point but thankfully we didn’t know about the bad pavement and mud holes called trails since none of us had ever done this ride before. We did want the sense of accomplishment that comes with leaving a city by bike, that feeling when you load up your panniers and just start pedaling. Self sufficiency, freedom to set your own schedule and stop and look at sights more closely.

Enjoying our start through the Bois de Vincennes, after a stop for lunch provisions.

Crossing the Seine and the railroad tracks on Charenton-le-Pont.

As soon as we left the Bois de Vincennes we left the city of Paris. We were cycling through the municipalities which make up the Île-de-France, the most populous of the 18 regions of France with 12m inhabitants. The cycling infrastructure stayed quite good at first, with lanes and signage to guide you along the Scandibérique. The what? The French part of EuroVelo 3, which links Trondheim (in Norway) to Cap-Fisterra passing by Santiago de Compostela (in Spain).

Scandibérique signage. I always snap a photo of the different route signs.

So many construction cranes in Ivry-sur-Seine.

Vitry-sur-Seine. A nice path separated from the road.

The path did look as if it had been flooded recently, with a layer of mud covering it.

Looking more country-like in Draveil. Jason would be taking a train back to Paris from Fontainebleau.

Étiolles, where the path starts to look a bit less welcoming.

The worst trail guards ever. What are these even supposed to accomplish? Fine with an unloaded bike, but the added width and weight of a loaded bike made these barriers so slow and difficult to cross. Saint-Germain-lès-Corbeil.

And then the trail got nice again, such smooth asphalt. Le Coudray-Montceaux.

Smoked salmon and bread. There was a serious lack of benches along the route so we ate standing by the trail. Dammarie-les-Lys

We were surprised in Bois-le-Roi to discover some truly jaw dropping mansions, known as Affolantes.

They are considered a symbol of 19th-century bourgeois ascendancy. I failed to capture a photo of the horrors of the pavement quality.

Coming in to Fontainebleau another unpaved section that got quite muddy. It was surprising to have the marked bike path to the train station be unpaved and muddy.

It was great to ride right out of Paris with our friend Jason, but would we ride this stretch again? Probably not. Jason’s fiancée Katie told us she wouldn’t ride that stretch again, and would prefer to take a train out and ride on from Fontainebleau. I agree with her. It seems to be a big huge missed opportunity to not have a coherent paved or smoothly surfaced trail along that stretch – it would be a huge draw. We had to ride through deep mud on overgrown paths on some stretches. No photos because we were all too busy trying to ride through deep mud!

Château de Fontainebleau the next morning on our ride out.

Aww…look at those smiling morning faces. Little did this happy couple know what trials would face them on this ride from Château de Fontainebleau to Sens.

Trials? A bad day riding in beautiful France? Yes, it happens. First, we got stuck in a dead end construction zone leaving the Château. That ate up about 20 minutes.

And then this dead end into a huge processing plant near La Grande-Paroisse. If it hadn’t been a holiday, Ascension Day, we think a connecting gate would have been open to take us back to the river. It was not. That took another 45 minutes or so.

But wait! We pivoted to this river side path. We’re still along the Seine and now between the large industrial site and the river.

There were lovely roses blooming along the mud path. Are we coming out of the mud pit?

Nope. More mud ahead. This stretch slowed us down so much. Really threw off the timing of the day.

Mud packed fenders. A miscalculation of how deep one mud puddle actually was resulted in very dirty socks and sandals.

Finally, one those traditional laundry sites came in handy for me to wash my sandals off.

The sun was out and we dried off our muddy bikes. Rich rides past an asparagus field in Vinneuf.

Later than usual arrival in Sens, thanks to two dead ends, one long muddy stretch, and a pretty warm day. We’re on the Yonne River now.

The beautifully restored Mairie de Sens.

From Sens on the Yonne River we headed to Migennes. We met another bike touring couple from Paris who were headed to Villeneuve-sur-Yonne to take the train back to Paris. We joked to each other that with start of May, and some nice weather, there had been a bike touring hatch out. We saw more cyclists in a few days than we’d seen since we left the Geneva area on March 10th.

Porte de Sens of Villeneuve-sur-Yonne, riding through the old gate after a stop for lunch supplies.

Ah, a bench in the shade to enjoy the river and the ducks.

Enjoying the warm weather as we ride through Armeau. I have two different helmet hats with me. And two other hats. Four hats. Too many?

Koomoot had told us this section was unpaved, but not only has it been paved, but some nice bike amenities have been added.

We’re headed in the direction of Joigny. We came from Sens that morning.

France continues to impress me with the nicely upkept state of historic sites, like this traditional laundry near Saint-Aubin-sur-Yonne.

Second lunch break across the river from Joigny.

Migennes. Where we spent the night at a decent hotel with a fantastic restaurant. Hôtel Restaurant Le Mitigana. And we meet the Canal de Bourgogne. Hello canal.

Happy canal faces which will turn sour in a day or so.

We had some long days cycling into headwinds and through mud patches and getting to towns a bit late, so the discussion in Migennes was whether to ride the entire way to our next stop, in Rougemont – 81 kilometers away – or to take a train hop.

Train hop! It was only a 15 minute ride, but it got us far enough that a day of riding a flat canal path into a headwind was a tolerable notion.

The rental boats were out on this lovely long weekend.

Oh yes. Canal riding. It’s flat and a bit boring.

It was warm enough that we had to search for a shaded spot for lunch (so few benches or tables on the canal trail) at Château de Tanlay.

Wheee! A hill! After our off the canal lunch break.

Ravières, another off the canal town. This is what I miss when we ride the canal, seeing interesting architecture and small towns.

The Mairie in Ravières. It’s always nice to take a break in a small town and watch life unfold around us.

This stretch of the canal, a few kilometers before our lockside accommodation, is quite beautiful. The curve of the canal and the cliffs add drama.

Folks gathering to watch a boat go through the lock near our BnB. Big canal activity.

The lock gate and the old forge across the canal. We could hear the water running through the lock gate all night.

Next morning- back on the canal into the headwind.

Any cyclist will nod their head in agreement with this statement: Headwinds are demoralizing. Rich updated his favorite and only client (me) on the day’s agenda: get to Dijon, an almost 90k ride, with a headwind and a lot more canal riding. He knew I would not be thrilled so the next sentence was – or there’s a train hop.

On our way along the canal to the train.

Everyone was happy to be leaving the canal behind.

Dijon! We had two nights booked and were both looking forward to exploring Dijon.

On any trip you have ups and downs. After more than two months pedaling around in France having fun and staying upbeat and positive, we were due for a bit of frustration and anxiety. We have a deal that we both can’t freak out at the same time. It works out for the most part. And it did this time. We overcame a few trying days, and a few more to come, and pedaled on. More on that with Rich’s next post.

Paris with touring bikes? Oh là là!

Our touring bike adventures have taught us a few things about trains and bikes. And we keep learning new helpful tidbits. One of the best tips is to try to book a train that starts at the beginning of your journey, and ends at your stop. There are few things as stressful as trying to get your bikes and panniers on or off a train at a mid point station. Although we’ve found French train staff, SNCF, and passengers to be pretty darn chill and helpful, it’s not very fun. One of our new discoveries on this trip is that, unlike the US, France doesn’t mind if bikes use the escalators. Using an escalator is so much easier and faster than the elevator or lugging bikes and bags separately up or down stairs. And, with our hydraulic disc brakes you feel confident that you have your bike under control and won’t cause an accident, even with loaded panniers. We came down the escalator at Gare de Bercy.

Oh, Paris. With your protected bike lanes and lovely trees.

Earlier on this trip we had dinner at a Chambre d’hote with a couple from Vichy, France, who warned us about going to Paris with our bike. So dangerous, they said, to cycle in Paris. Oh no, we replied, we’ve been through Paris on our loaded bikes and it’s fine. The Rue de Rivoli, for example, has almost no private auto traffic, just bikes and taxis. They were not convinced, and did not believe the crazy Americans. Ah well, their loss. I’m glad we’d been in Paris and knew how good it’s gotten for bikes, or they would have made us nervous. Taking advice from people who don’t bike is very different than hearing from cyclists.

Arriving in Paris is a treat. It was a Saturday afternoon and the city was calm and peaceful, to our eyes.

What made us think twice, or three times, about going through Paris, which we desperately wanted to do to catch up with friends, wasn’t the cycling conditions, but the trains in and finding a hotel with secure bike parking.

Bike friendly accommodation. This was the Aparthotel Adagio Paris Nation, in the 12th arrondissement.

The center of Paris can be tough, with smaller spaces and less secure bike parking, but one set of friends were in the 12th, and Rich found an Aparthotel with secure bike parking very close to where they were staying.

How Parisian does this look? Our good friends Michelle and Alan came to meet us for dinner on their last night in France.

La Vega, also in the 12th. Recommended by our friends Jason and Katie, who are living in Paris.

Ah the dreaded (by me) menu board. All the food we had was fantastic but I have such a struggle reading the beautiful French writing.

We bid farewell to Michelle and Alan after a long and delicious evening.

On Sunday it was time to ride our bikes around Paris with Jason.

Rich and I are long time bike commuters and used our bikes for transportation and recreation in San Francisco. We have spent decades pushing for bicycle infrastructure improvements in our beloved SF. What a joy to ride around in Paris which is leaping ahead as a bike friendly city, and in a city where we don’t know the backstory and fight over every street. Jason, as a professor of urban geography who writes books about the politics of urban mobility, does know. He kept us regaled with the background about the changes in Paris.

Paris putting on its Olympic Games face. Hôtel de Ville.

Paroisse (Parish Church) Saint-Paul Saint-Louis, 3rd arrondissement. Bicycles are absolutely the most efficient and scenic way to get around Paris.

Don’t blink, now we’re in the 19th arrondissement. Those threatening clouds only spit on us a little.

On Monday we headed out on foot, following what I’m sure all American visitors refer to as Paris’ Highline, the Coulée Verte René-Dumont, which had an entrance right near our hotel. It’s a repurposed railway line and similar to the High Line in New York in that you get to walk above street level through gardens and art, and try to resist the temptation to peek into folks’ windows.

Parts of the greenway are lush with plantings.

Street art on the side of a neighboring building.

Olympic Smurf! I think this is by Invader, a French street artist who does pixilated tile mosaics, but could be an imitator.

The greenway goes right through two buildings. What a way to walk in Paris.

The wide sidewalks of the 13th. That’s the metro line No. 6 running above.

Gifted leftover metro tickets from Alan and Michelle. Thank you!

Back over the Seine to our apartment for well deserved napping. Something we don’t get to do while actually biking.

What a lovely familiar feeling it is to meet up with long time friends. We took advantage of being able to socialize as much as we could. Tuesday, our last full day before we cycled out of Paris, it was back on the metro to visit Musée de Montmartre. Recommended by our friend Eve who had just been in Paris.

The metro had a delay but I was busy taking photos of the Olympic ads in the stations, advising about how to get around during the games.

TO MOVE
EASILY DURING GAMES
The important thing is to anticipate
The Games will have an impact on your travels. To prepare, go to:
anticipatejeux.gouv.fr

Paris is already a busy city. But, has experience coping with many many visitors. Friends who are visiting for the Games are hoping that things will go as smoothly as the London games did.

Everything in Paris looks picturesque to me. Even folks waiting for the metro.

Off the metro and a walk uphill towards Montmartre.

We are quite crowd adverse, so why head to Montmartre, one of the most visited areas in Paris? Sure to be heaving with tourists? Would the Musée de Montmartre be worth it? Yes! As with any A list site the trick is to arrive early and pick a less visited part of Montmartre. Thank you Eve, great recommendation.

You enter through lovely gardens where Renoir once worked, and the 17th century house takes you through the history of The Butte, as Montmartre was called.

A painting
For Au Lapin Agile, a cabaret.

Artist Théophile Steinlen. Part of the frieze ‘Cats and Moons’ (c.1895)

The studio where Suzanne Valadon painted. I appreciated the focus on a female artist.

A rather impressionistic photo of me and the only vineyard in Paris, Vigne du Clos Montmartre, from the garden of the museum.

Just to torture ourselves we walked by The Basilica of Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre to see all the crowds.

We hoofed it back to the metro to get back to the lovely and calm 12th.

Ah. Lunch at Le 217 Brasserie Restaurant.

Rosé at lunchtime. Another biking day no-no. That’s a 50 cl pichet.

France has absolutely spoiled us for wine opportunities and prices. Have we had a bad wine? Only once, at Chambre d’hote, we were too polite to mention it to our hostess.

Dinner with Jason that night, his fiancé was working late. He made us fantastic creole food.

There is a lot of chat in the constant travel groups about avoiding crowded destinations, what we call A sites or cities. There are certain times of year when these popular places are just about guaranteed to be over run with visitors. In incredibly popular cities, like Paris, it seems the crowded times are more and more frequent. Go to B or C, or even D places. Or, as Rich and I managed in Paris, go to an A city but stick with less popular areas or attractions. It helps to have a travel planner like Rich who can spend hours on a single train puzzling to find the perfect solution. And then scour Paris for bike friendly accommodation in a good location. Actually, ‘helps’ is the wrong word. Depends is the correct description. Traveling by loaded touring bike into a big city could be a stressful recipe for relationship disaster, but with good planning, and a rule we’ve adopted from another traveling couple – no fault travel days (where no one can blame the other person for any problem encountered on a travel or transition day), we make it work. Paris was a wonderful break from cycling. Seeing friends was a great recharge. Next: we ride out of Paris with Jason.

À votre santé, Paris! (Thank you for the photo Michelle!)

Issoire to Paris, surely the weather will improve?

After barely getting all our wet gear dry in a hotel room with no heated towel rack, and only barely warm radiators, we loaded up and took the train for a boost from Aurillac towards Issoire.

Even after a long date with the hair dryer my shoes are still a bit damp.

Ready to roll off the train in Brassac-les-Mines.

Our train ride took us through a tunnel and got us past the Parc naturel régional des Volcans d’Auvergne, a mountainous area with ski slopes. Looking out the train windows as we emerged from the tunnel I was quite thankful to not be pedaling, although the area was gorgeous.

The Allier River was still raging from all the rain.

Raging muddy rivers were starting to seem normal.

Now we’re on the Via Allier. The French regional routes are super scenic.

Riding through Orsonnette. We’ve entered the Puy-de-Dôme department.

“The love is in the Fields.” We needed help with this translation, thank you Finn.

The look of the buildings has changed. No more slate roofs and buttery yellow stone buildings, now it’s red roofs and more of a grey or brown tone.

The cats are still cute in this new region.

Climbing up a ridge towards Lamontgie. Grey skies, but still dry.

Lunch stop at a bench with a lovely church view. And the rain started.

Quick, stop in front of that beautiful gate at Château de Parentignat.

It will come as no surprise to Europeans and perhaps a medium to big surprise to Americans what an impactful holiday May 1st is in Europe. May Day, Labour Day, or Fête du Travail will see shops and museums closed, and many restaurants as well. We planned two nights in Issoire since the weather on May Day was scheduled to be rainy again. We cozied up in our hotel room after dinner on April 30th and planned to rest, read, travel plan and blog. We went out to find lunch and see what might be open for dinner. Lunch was a Chinese restaurant, and we saw a few other places open, brasseries and cafes mostly. However, when we ventured back out in the rain for dinner, we were having no luck. Those businesses which had been open for lunch were now closed. Uh oh. Panic setting in. Rich spotted a restaurant whose hours on line proclaimed a 7pm opening. The metal shutter was half open and people were inside! Success? Not exactly. The four guys inside were staff having a Fête du Travail celebration. When the Manager, Hugo, figured out we were Americans he hustled us inside for a drink.

Enjoying a Fête du Travail drink and camaraderie.

They may have been a few drinks ahead of us but we had a fantastic 45 minutes talking and laughing.

What had been a slight stop of desperation in Issoire turned into a memorable experience. Towns with fewer tourists seem to lead to fun interactions. No one in Issoire is tired of American tourists clumping around town.

Abbatiale Saint-Austremoine which has uniquely painted walls and columns.

Rainy streets on our way to an Indian restaurant for dinner. We ate there both nights, it was that good and open!

Farewell Issoire, thanks to the hospitality of a crew of celebrating workers we had a memorable time. But, May 2nd and we’re back out into the rain to ride to Clermont-Ferrand. We’re timing our train from there to arrive in Paris for a four night stay to catch up with friends, so we have a two night stay planned in Clermont-Ferrand. The amazing travel planner Rich figured out the puzzle of loaded touring bikes/trains/Paris.

Nothing like a climb to warm you up on a chilly morning. Col de la Croix des Gardes.

From here we get a lovely decent to Clermont-Ferrand.

Dramatic volcanic mountains with a dusting of snow.

Equally dramatic Pain Suisse enjoyed in Vic-le-Comte. My favorite riding snack in France.
Pain Suisse is brioche dough filled with crème pâtisserie and chocolate chips.

Some lovely new pavement on the cycle track.

An old water mill on a side street of Les Martres-de-Veyre.

This signage was worth making Rich turn around and come back for a drama shot.

We didn’t expect much of Clermont-Ferrand. Rich had read that it wasn’t that charming a town. It’s funny how quickly and easily we can have our minds made up, or changed about a place. Coming in up a climb up a commercial street, grump grump grump. Construction zone, grump grump. Oh! A plaza. Oh, street cars. Hey, we’re really liking this town.

Drying out our fluorescent yellow shoe covers after another day of rainy riding.

Fascinating rubber tired single rail streetcars.

The town is bordered by the volcanic Chaîne des Puys mountains.

Which makes for some fantastic views, like this one of the Puy-de-Dôme.

And the stunning Notre-Dame of Assumption Cathedral? Not dirt or soot blackened as you might first assume. Carved from black lava stone! It really stands out from the red roofs when viewed from Parc Montjuzet.

Very dramatic, the black spires against a grey sky.

The black stone makes for some fantastic contrast.

This building is like a giant pumice stone. Well, not exactly. It’s made from scoria which is denser than pumice.

Inside the cathedral. The black stone makes the lighting and windows really pop.

What else did we enjoy about Clermont-Ferrand?

Fountains which had drinkable water were clearly marked with this symbol.

L’Adventure Michelin. A museum all things Michelin here at the headquarters of the company.

And we learned why the streetcars are rubber tired. Yup, Michelin money.

It’s a university town. With 140k students come some good restaurants. We had Mexican food. The best we’ve found in Europe so far.

The graceful Pl. de Jaude, just outside our hotel, had a statue of Vercingétorix. He was a Gallic king and chieftain.

The statue is by our old friend
Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi, who also created *Liberty Enlightening the World* (the Statue of Liberty) and whose own statue we saw in Colmar, France.

And yes, the weather did dry out for our day of fun in Clermond-Ferrand. It got a bit windy but our next mode of transportation was a train to Paris so no worries about wind. Rich booked us on a train that started in Clermont-Ferrand and ended at Gare de Paris Bercy. With loaded touring bikes end to end trains are so much less stressful than trying to board and disembark mid line. One more story about how wonderful people are in cities that aren’t overwhelmed with tourists. We got to the train station super early, as we do, and as we stood staring up at the big board, waiting for a platform to be listed for our train, a station police offer came over and asked where we were going. When we said Paris, he leaned in and told us it would be platform H. The doors won’t be open yet, he added, but you can go to the platform now. The train is there. Super grateful to get a jump on the eventual platform rush we headed to the elevator to do the one by one transfer down and back up. The elevators barely hold one loaded touring bike, so we’re slow, taking turns in the elevator. Once out at the platform an SNCF train worker helped us find the bike car, and our seats. By the time the rush of passengers got to the platform we were settled in.

We were as chill as this little guy on the train.

He developed a bit of a fascination for Rich.

The happy travelers thinking ahead to Paris and friends to visit!

Cycling the Lot River. Clairac to Cahors.

Pushing up from a lunch break spot on the Lot River.

After our rest day in Toulouse we hopped on a regional train, a TER, and got a jump on a strong headwind day to Tonneins, which is on the Garrone River, the same river as Toulouse. The Lot River and the Garrone come together at the confluence just southeast of Tonneins, so we rode east to meet up with the Lot and head upriver.

Our first sight of the mighty Lot River, in Clairac.

The Lot ends where it meets the Garrone in the west.

Look at that river course. So many bends and horseshoes.

One of the allures of riding a river is that you tend to stay on fairly flat ground. But, if you want to ride some hills you get that opportunity when you ride up to the towns along the rivers which are mostly tucked up high and dry above flood level. Or, you take a route up onto a ridge above the river. Most folks would think that flat riding along a river is ideal, but it does get a bit dull, and our legs and rear ends appreciate the hill climbs and coasting downhill.

Another view of Clairac from the bridge on our way to a grocery store.

A quiet tree lined road. Our train ride did not deliver us beyond the wind, we had a gusty day.

Feeling like bridge trolls at our lunch spot. But it was sheltered from the wind.

The regional route Rich was following on his map was V86.

La Vallée du Lot à vélo, the V86, like many bike routes, takes you to scenic spots and through town on very picturesque and historic streets. What can at first seem like a gratuitous turn or two, ends up somewhere lovely.

Castelmoron-sur-Lot felt like taking a step back in time. We had much more of this feeling to come as we continued up the Lot.

The reward for a day of battling the wind? Indian food for dinner and a bottle of local white wine in Villeneuve-sur-Lot.

Porte de Pujols, the last bit of the ramparts that surrounded the city in the 14th century.

Crossing the river on our way out Villeneuve-sur-Lot. The Lot is known for flooding, these buildings look ready for it.

Use your imagination to erase the billboard and the bollards and you could be back in the 14th century. Oh and Rich, erase that bike tourist in your mind too. And the car.

Work continues on the Vélo routes, and the mapping app Rich uses, Koomoot, isn’t always completely up to date. Sometimes new signs will contradict Koomoot directions. We had one of those contradictions at a single track trail by a rail line. Koomoot wanted us to cross the rails on a road behind us and stay in the right bank of the river. We ultimately chose the single track.

The sign was brand new. I love the added on ‘camping’ sign.

It’s always such a mental boost to get to ride where automobiles cannot go. Bike touring is hard, but the rewards are fantastic.

V86 for the win. The new routing took us to le Moulin de Lustrac. A perfect spot for a snack break.

Built about 1296. Right around the time work was being done to make the Lot navigable by building dams, facilitating the movement of goods from Quercy to Bordeaux.

A very impressive set of mill buildings.

Who doesn’t love a door that opens to a drop into water?

Another cool old mill building at Monsempron-Libos. This one definitely has folks living in it. I wonder what it’s like to have water flowing under your house?

Another stunning historic building on the Lot. No idea what it is.

A bridge over the Lot with a sign showing the bends in the river.

Puy-l’Évêque is on the narrow neck of a horseshoe bend of the river, and our next night’s stay. Our sense of riding back in time got stronger when we went for a walk before dinner.

The narrow side streets are named for the trades that were practiced on them, street of tanners, tinters, etc.

Looking over the medieval buildings to the River.

Nearly a fifth of the residences are holiday homes. The buildings are beautifully kept up.

A stretch of nice weather, no wind, and a beautiful river to ride. We were moving each night, riding happily along, but moving always means unpacking and packing. It gets tiring. Especially with bike panniers. What a mess.

To this. All tidily packed up and at the grocery store to get lunch provisions.

It was quite cold that morning as we pedaled past vineyards and waved to folks walking the Camino de Santiago. One of the routes through France goes right along the route we were riding.

The route is well marked and takes advantage of parts of an old railroad line.

Riding along the old railway route through Castelfranc.

And back over the river to Albas. This agricultural area of the Lot is mostly vineyards, all in the Cahors AOC wine region.

Another beautiful place up on a hill above the river.

Which means riding up up up. But if you were cold this warms you up.

Rich added for scale by the big fake wine bottle.

The trail stayed above the river for a while. I’d forgotten how cold it was until I see I’m wearing my down jacket. And a wool sweater.

Near Douelle, a chateaux above the river. All of these towns were also ports for the shipping of wine along the river, headed to Bordeaux.

Lunchtime in Doulle, where a small park had a table and chairs for us to enjoy.

Approaching Pradines, yes, another town in a bend on the river. A view across the vineyards.

Our next stop was Cahors, where we checked into our hotel and immediately decided to stay another extra night. Our hotel room overlooked the famous Pont Valentré, a medieval three tower six arch bridge. We got to town in plenty of time to unpack, shower, relax a bit and head out to a chocolate shop.

I love the window display at L’éclat Du Noir. I look for the independent chocolate shops.

And Rich looks for the independent beer bars.

Our rest day was lovely, we walked around town, visited the Musée Henri-Martin, whose paintings we also saw in Toulouse, and had a vegetarian lunch. And napped.

It was a good choice of rest day, since it rained quite a bit.

Post museum, post lunch, on our way to a nap through the charming old streets of Cahor.

A scallop shell showing the way of St. James and the bridge in the background.

The view from our hotel room. The Best Western Plus Hôtel Divona Cahors.

The happy travelers and that amazing bridge.

Stay tuned for more Lot River. The cold wet European spring is certainly not super great for bike touring, but we’ll take cold over rain. Unfortunately, some rain is in our future. The highs and lows of traveling by bikes.