France – Page 3 – Less Car, More Life

Fleeing the storm, from Montpellier to Béziers and up the Orb River.

In Montpellier. Rich feeling better, Cheryl coming down with the Spring French Cough.

The wind we battled down the end of the ViaRhôna bike route and the edges of the Carmargue and salt marshes of the sea did not let up as we approached Montpellier. As we turned inland the wind blowing across the bridge over the estuaries almost knocked me over.

Being San Francisco cyclists, we know crosswinds. The Golden Gate Bridge crosswind has knocked over many an unsuspecting cyclist, so I was ready for this exposed bridge. It’s quite a feeling on a loaded touring bike to be hit with a crosswind so hard you feel as if you can just lean on it, tilt at a motorbike in a curve angle, and still stay upright.

L’Arbre Blanc (White Tree) housing tower on the Lez River in Montpellier.

It seriously looks like a rendering, we stopped to marvel at the design. So unique.

Coming into Montpellier we felt the city buffer the wind and saw this completely unique building. Sou Fujimoto led the team on this stunning design, as our architect friend Gisela clued us in. She’s our go to with building questions. It also clued us in that we were close to arriving at our hotel for a two night stay.

Calm plazas and beautifully lit up buildings.

Why, I wondered, looking at my photos, were so many of Montpellier at night? Oh yes, we had holed up in our hotel room for almost an entire rainy day. We had breakfast at the hotel and ate the lunch food we’d bought and not eaten the day before. A kettle and mini-fridge kept us happy. We finally emerged in the evening to find dinner and admire the city. For years we’d been referring to Montpellier as “the city of tomorrow, today”, from a trip in 2018 when we marveled at the new tram system. Now we got to marvel at how bicycle and pedestrian friendly the city is as well.

Unicorn on a monument. Haven’t seen that before.

Headed out on one Montpellier’s fantastic bike lanes before the rain started.

Something that made it so nice to bike and walk around Montpellier were the concrete curbs protecting bikes lanes and also keeping cars from changing lanes approaching intersections. You knew if a car was turning right by which lane they were in, no possibility of swerving at the last moment. That’s a nice feeling for those of us not encased in tons of steel. We were off to the train station to spend the worst part of the storm on a train. If the train was running. The wind and waves along the coast where the tracks run were causing delays but our train did leave, only 30 mines late. Seeing so many other folks with bikes was worrying, since the train technically only takes six bikes. But as you can see from the photos with a collaborative attitude extra cyclists can squeeze into almost any space. Thank you SNCF for not be sticklers for rules.

It’s dumping with rain, but we’re cozy on a train busy with other cyclists.

A big group of Irish cyclists riding a pilgrimage to Lourdes were also on the train. The wind was so strong it was unsafe to ride, especially on lightweight road bikes.

Rich spends a lot of time planning our routes, booking accommodation, and figuring out train rescue hops, like this one. We took this train to Béziers. Where? That was our question too. We didn’t have high expectations and knew nothing about Béziers but it turned out to be a lovely place to spend one night. France is loaded with small cities like this (population 80k), that are firmly off the foreign tourist track. There is an August bull fighting festival here that attracts one million visitors over five days, but we wondered where they all stay as hotels are not abundant.

Way too much mayonnaise in the sandwich!

Rich in front of the Pont Ferroviaire de l’Orb. His third favorite aqueduct in France. Favorite, Pont du Gard, second favorite Pont-Canal du Briare across the Loire River.

Cheryl on the Pont Ferroviaire de l’Orb which carries the Canal du Midi over the Orb River.

Another picturesque bridge, Pont Vieux. The city has done a great job restoring the bridge and linking it to the Cathedral via new plazas, walkways, and elevators.

View of Cathédrale Saint-Nazaire from the bridge.

Dinner at Les Bons Amis. We might have both felt a bit under the weather, but not that bad as the local wine still tasted so nice!

Ready to ride the canal du Midi. Off we go.

Made it all of 2 kilometers before our first stop, at Les 9 Écluses de Fonseranes. Yes, a flight of 9 locks on the Canal du Midi.

A view back to the cathedral. At another stop where we added to our bikes the little flags we bought in Montpellier.

Hello, we are Americans with an affinity for France.

The little flags were Rich’s idea. What is the first thing you wonder about tourists? Where are they from? Sometimes you can tell, sometimes not. So, in order to answer that question for all the folks we cross paths with – little flags. Do we wish we’d gotten them earlier? Yes! Have we noticed folks noticing them? Absolutely. It might be confirmation bias on our part, but we do think they make folks friendlier and car drivers nicer. Rich has his on the front of his bike, and mine are on my back. We inform folks coming and going.

Lunch near the Abbaye de Fontcaude, which was closed. Saved us from having to decide if it was worth stopping to go inside.

Cazedarnes. Vineyards everywhere you look. This is the Languedoc region.

And this is why it can take me so long to catch up with Rich. I’m constantly stopping to snap pics.

After a fairly short day riding, and a night in Cessenon-sur-Orb at a Chambre d’hote where Rich put his French skills to the test, and where we failed to convince the other couple at dinner, from the Vichy region, that Paris is actually quite bike friendly, we headed out to a gem of cycling – La Voie Verte Passa Païs (the Passa Païs greenway) which stretches a total of 237 kilometers and first follows the Orb River.

Yup, stopped again. Not tired of vineyards yet.

Rich admiring the view and waiting for me.

We saw a few other cyclists on their road bikes, this must be such a popular local road, it’s beautiful.

My French road sign language learning program is going well.

Another picturesque stone building and another stop to take a photo.

Roquebrun, another gorgeous town we get to see. It’s so easy to pull over for a photo when traveling by bike.

600 folks call this town in the Occitanie region home.

In summer there are kayakers and canoeists, but wine production is the main economy.

After Roquebrun the roads starts to climb. Rich amuses himself by taking photos of his newly flag adorned bike as he waits for me.

The geology along the Orb is eye catching.

Little Black Greeter Kitty of Vieussan. We pulled over up the road and they came running up for cuddles.

A serious embarrassment of views along this route.

I like the simplicity of the signs telling you which river you are crossing.

A yellow bridge over the river Orb and toothy mountains.

A frequent problem we have is the lack of benches along cycling routes. And benches in the shade are even rarer. We’ve learned to head into towns where you can usually find a bench by the church, or in a shady old town street.

Old town narrow streets in Olargues. Must be a bench here somewhere.

And there was. Of course as soon as rode out of town there was a lovely park with picnic tables as well, but our old town perch had atmosphere.

The park with tables looking back at Olargues. We’re now following Le Jaur River to the west.

This section of the Passa Païs is on an old railroad right of way. There is ongoing work to the route so not every bridge is bike ready yet, but enough are that you avoid most descents to and climbs out of river or creek valleys.

Oh yeah. Look at that dip we got to avoid. Bridges go over.

As I mentioned, the route is still being worked on. At some points you are routed off the rail trail. Obviously the planners are doing their best to keep us off busy roads, but occasionally that means very quiet, very steep roads. Lumpy, as Rich calls it.

This road was car free, which was good, since I was grumpy. A 10% grade will do that.

Distract myself with the sweeping views.

Rich found a bench with a view of one of the bridges our climb probably avoided.

Wild lavender growing out of the hillside.

The day from Cessenon-sur-Orb to Labastide-Rouairoux was beautiful and varied. We had lovely smooth roads, newly constructed rail trail, quiet small roads, and stunning views and villages. It was a tougher day than we anticipated since it was a long climb, gentle most of the way but still up for 20-30k. It’s more tiring to ride long flattish days since you are in the same position on the bike, using the same muscles, hour after hour. We were thrilled to crest the pass of the route and through a long tunnel – avoiding the very highest ridge – and coast into Labastide-Rouairoux, which is a former textile town. The rail route we were riding had brought wool to the town and taken fabric away.

The long tunnel which delivered us to the valley of the Thoré River.

The tunnel meant a change of valleys, and a dramatic change of climate as it was now exposed to the moisture from the Atlantic. Suddenly it was green and lush.

After a fantastic night at Chambres d’hôtes Residence Le Petit Paradis, with great dinner time conversation and a delicious breakfast, it was back on the trail.

I was sad that we didn’t get to town in time to visit the textile museum.

An old mill on the River Thoré. This mill valley started to remind us of the coal valleys of Wales.

As Rich had been promising me the day before, our start was 100% downhill.

Looking back towards Labastide-Rouairoux. Our friends who know Wales will understand our comparison.

Ah, nothing like coasting downhill on a rail trail. Me in the rear screaming “I love bike touring!”.

So green again. But spring had not come to this area.

We went from vineyards to dairy cows. It felt like a different country.

Artists had been hired to create works along the trail.

Rich didn’t even have to wonder where I was – squirrel!

Artistic underpass – Droit dans le mur? Straight into the wall?

Lunch in Caucalières. A table by the river.

And a few Easter chocolates to keep us going.

Next stop, Castres. We both love that Véloccitanie branding.

The outskirts of Castres. I do love a French gate leading to a chateau. This huge chateau was in the midst of office parks, an interesting juxtaposition.

Castres! Where we would spend two nights, still trying to get over our chesty coughing colds and hoping for the wind to calm down. That’s l’Agout River. So many rivers.

We had a great rest day in Castres. A visit to the Goya Museum, a small but mighty and well curated place.

French burgers. A tried and tested rest day cure. For whatever ails you.

Best photo to capture the day of riding between Castres and Castelnaudry. It was a lovely ride, much along the canal du Midi but I just wanted a nap. Yay for the nap loungers.

We spent two nights in Castres and two nights in Castelnaudry. We have a house and cat sit in Carcassone so we had some time to bumble along and take it easy, which was great since neither of us were yet up to full speed.

After a good night’s sleep, out for a walk. Écluses de Saint-Roch, a four flight lock on the canal du Midi.

The basin, carved out of the canal to make a port and regulate the water supply to the locks. It’s also a popular spot for folks to rent boats to cruise the canal.

Castelnaudry is the home of Cassoulet. Delicious. Super filling and very rich.

Leaving our AirBnB which is in an old convent turned language school.

Each old lock keeper’s house had these distance signs.

Still impressed with the views of the Pyrenees.

More good bike route signage and branding.

And a sign explaining all the work to re-shade stretches. So many new young trees were being planted, it was great to see.

It’s good to know that future generations will have rows of trees like this.

Bench! In the shade! On the canal du Midi. We’re getting close to Carcassone.

Phew! That was a lot of photos. Rich is way too busy travel planning to find time to write, he proofs and adds and corrects details. It’s not easy to move so much in an area that’s not ramped up for travel season yet. It can take him a long time to find a place for us to stay where we can also find dinner, and has a bed big enough to fit a big tall American. But we made it to Carcassone alive and well and ready for our house sit. And mostly but not fully recovered from the French Spring Cough.

The Via Rhôna. From the Alps to the Mediterranean Sea by bicycle.

Le Grau-du-Roi, our first real sight of the Mediterranean after two days of salt marshes around the Carmague.

The Via Rhôna. We started with snow, rain, and hail, and ended about 800k later in sunshine and wind.

Each heart is a place we stayed on our ride down through Southeastern France.

When we start a specific EuroVelo route, or any other point to point cycle tour, we always assure each other that we can absolutely take a train boost if needed. I’m happy to report we didn’t take a train, bus, or taxi for the ViaRhôna. We rode the entire way. The blue dot is us in Montpellier, our 15th night since leaving our friends’ house in the Alps. We spent two nights in Lyon seeing friends, and two nights Uzés to have a needed rest day.

Day two of riding. All rain gear was used. We were glad the rain was never sustained, but just occasional showers or hail.

Still smiling in the face of dicey weather.

South of Lyon the route is still undergoing some work and much is labelled “Itinéraire Provisoire”

In some spots even Rich needed to push his bike. Or as the kids call it – hike a bike.

The one stretch we might recommend skipping is between Lyon and Vienne. You can take a local TER train for 30 minutes out of Lyon. The cycle route was mostly on street, with some narrow bike lanes, poor pavement, and quite a bit of diverting around industrial sites, mixed with off street trail riding. We’re not purists who insist on riding every kilometer, and more realistic about having a good (and safe) time, while not suffering TOO much. There will always be enough accidental or incidental suffering on a bike tour, so, if you can skip some known unpleasantness- go for it. That said, it was rideable and ok if you want to do every km of the route.

But, this historic bridge across the river at Givors was beautiful. We would have missed that via train.

And missed this! As a long time and avid Tour de France watcher Rich appreciates riding through the historic stages of le Tour.

Our first night after Lyon was in Les Roches-de-Condrieu, at a small hotel called Hotel-Restaurant Le Bellevue. A decent hotel above a fantastic restaurant, as are many in the Logis network of locally owned lodging.

Bare vineyards. We’ve never toured this early in the year.

Another view of the Rhône River from our little balcony (good for drying laundry) at the Bellevue.

Yup, being those folks who snap photos of their food. Fantastic pumpkin soup.

Didn’t snap a photo of the main, but here’s dessert. My Black Forest inspired cake and Rich’s artistic layered confection avec use crème glace

Usually we seek out something casual and simple for dinner, after a hotel breakfast buffet and a picnic lunch. But, when in a small town with not many close by options we sometimes choose the hotel restaurant; especially in France. I am always impressed and grateful with the way the French approach food. Even in a restaurant like this, which I would consider fancy and upscale, the service is lovely and straightforward. No attitude, no showy or flashy flourishes, just good service and delicious food.

Well fed and riding along the river, day two past Lyon.

Andancette. We’re riding along the borders of the Drôme and the Ardèche regions. It’s warming up. Jackets off.

If cool old bridges are your thing, the Rhône is a great river to ride. Many of the suspension bridges date back to the 1880s

Tournon-sur-Rhône where the Passerelle Marc-Seguin is a pedestrian and bike only bridge.

Even when exhausted it’s great to go for a walk after dinner.

Leaving our bike friendly Gite Le Pied Du Géant in Tournon sur Rhône. And a strong tailwind is finally blowing!

Monday morning on the bikes on the Rhône. Such an amazing experience and much more fun than Monday morning staff meetings.

Dramatic view from Valence of the Ardeche mountains. We went into town to get lunch supplies.

The route crosses the river quite often.

Which means you get to ride across these stunning bridges.

Stopping on a bridge for a photo is not always an option, but we got one.

Montélimar was night 3 past Lyon, and as we headed there we had peek a boo views with Mont Ventoux all day. Mont Ventoux is the stuff of Tour legends, and its white top can be mistaken for snow when it’s only its bare limestone 1,910 m (6,266 ft) elevation.

Bicycle themed decor along the route is always appreciated.

Lavender fields not yet blooming and blue shutters. Still beautiful.

Riding by Avignon. We crossed the river and went right by.

We did stop to admire this ancient communal laundry. I’m always fascinated by these.

Riding towards Théziers, we’re in the Occitanie region. It feels very Mediterranean.

Riding by Montfrin. We ride by a lot of beautiful villages. If we stopped at all of them we’d never get anywhere.

At this point we veered off the Rhone and EuroVelo 17 to visit a famous Roman aqueduct, the Pont du Gard, and spend two nights in Uzés for a rest. Regional routes V66 and V60 take you to the Pont du Gard and Uzes mostly on a beautiful route and rail-trail.

Remoulins, and an Allée of Plane trees. Getting close to the Pont du Gard.

No self respecting civil engineer could pass up the opportunity to visit this marvel built in the first century AD.

In the summer folks canoe under the aqueduct in the Gardon River.

We followed the rules and walked our bikes across.

Our two night stay in Uzés was very relaxing. We cooked in one night, walked the small and fancy old town by daylight and night, visited the cathedral, and walked by the Gardon River below town.

My street at night, this black cat seems to think.

It’s a beautiful old town, very fixed up.

At the cathedral, a campanile, the Tour Fenestrelle.

A view from our walk out of town. Gotta keep the legs used to hiking.

Pathways wind around outside the city walls.

Loaded up in the courtyard of our apartment.

Sometimes staying in old town with touring bikes is a pain. But this ground floor flat worked out perfectly and was beautifully restored.

We rode back down to the Rhône and rejoined EV17 through the Tunnel voie verte Beaucaire. It really felt like a change of climate and zones, as if once through that fairly short tunnel we were in a drier much more Mediterranean climate.

Sunshine? Time for my wide brimmed helmet hat!

Our next stopover was Arles. Famous for its association with Van Gogh and a stunning Roman amphitheater and coliseum, and visited by many tourists every year. Rich had booked us a hotel out of old town – much easier with loaded touring bikes – and since we assumed that once at our hotel we might not have the energy and enthusiasm to walk back into old town, we did a bike through visit. During a busier season I would not recommend visiting old towns with big loaded bikes but Arles was pretty quiet on this Friday afternoon in late March. So we biked around and admired town and the sights for a few hours before heading to our hotel.

Easter chocolate acquired. On to the famous sights.

I love how the coliseum is right in the center of town. And, how folks had built homes inside the walls at one point.

“The clearing and restoration of the Roman monuments started in August 1822. This major decision taken by the city council was to remain a main objective for 100 years. This meant the compulsory purchase of the houses built, both inside the building and onto the façade, then their demolition.”

It’s easy to explore by bike. Dead end? No problem.

After Arles we had one more night before reaching the Mediterranean, in Aigues-Mortes. Unfortunately, Rich was developing a nasty cold, complete with a hacking cough and burning sinuses. And, to make the final part of the ViaRhôna even more painful – the headwind gods decided to pay us a sustained visit.

The most unusual bridge over the Rhône. It was bike and pedestrian only and obviously a favorite of local taggers.

So, filing this under you never know what you don’t know: France still has bullfighting. The arena in Arles hosts bullfights in the summer. I shouldn’t be surprised that this activity traditionally exists in France as well as Spain, what’s a border, really. France has a law protecting bullfighting as a long standing cultural tradition. From what I can find online it seems that the bulls are no longer killed. So there’s that.

Black Carmague cows, or steer, or maybe young bulls?

The white horses of the Carmague are semi feral and we did see some roaming ones. This one is behind fences.

This stretch of the route is very poorly benched and exposed. Nowhere for tired bike tourists to sit and have lunch. So, a rather unsatisfying stand up snack.

Flat. Marshy. Very windy. Water on both sides. Beautiful but not a super fun ride on this windy day.

Heading into Aigues-Mortes for dinner. It’s a fascinating old city, but we were tired, Rich was sick, so we only did a quick walk around before and after dinner.

Aigues-Mortes is an old walled city with fortifications dating to the 13th century.

Rich didn’t get much to time to rest up, as we could have stayed two nights at Aigues-Mortes but the hotel was a bit overpriced and we knew that after the headwind a rainstorm was coming so we wanted to press on to Montpellier and spend two nights there. So, out into the wind it was. Oh, and the train spur to Nimes from here was not running due to work.

Aigues-Mortes by day. It’s on the Canal du Rhône à Sête.

La Baleine sea salt production. Those are salt piles behind Rich.

Greater Flamingos. We didn’t think we’d see them on this trip as they mostly stay further east in the Carmague. Head down into the wind I’m pedaling along and glance right…hit the brakes! Flamingos!

And finally, the Mediterranean Sea. It’s hard to capture how windy it was this day. The sand was blowing and we had to be careful to not let our bikes get knocked over when we parked them.

Hold on tight to that bike and smile! Ignore the head cold that is coming for you too.

Across the sand dunes is La Grande-Motte, a seaside resort and port built in the 1960s and 70s with a unique pyramid architecture style.

Happy that we will soon turn inland towards Montpellier for a rest day.

With the Via Rhôna complete, and two more months of bicycle touring ahead of us – what do we think of the Via Rhôna? I enjoyed it, the river isn’t as wild or beautifully stunning as parts of the Loire, nor is the route as complete. Parts are definitely still under development. But, with a route passing through so many municipalities there must be so much negotiating and planning behind it. Certain areas were so well marked with fantastic new protected lanes and intersections, loads of benches and rest areas for weary cyclists, and other stretches had almost nothing beyond an occasional sign.

The happy travelers ready to pedal inland, get over our colds, and out of the wind.

I think the Carmague is a place I’d like to return to with a car. Apparently the mosquitos get thick during the summer and then you wish for wind, but the bird watching is fantastic. As we were pushing along into the wind I did slightly envy the visitors in cars, but I know, that as always, we have a more up close experience from the seats of our bikes.

Well that was a transition. From Malaysia to bicycle touring in France.

That’s a little tiny Rich, headed into a rain and hail storm along the Via Rhôna.

Be careful what you wish for. How many times in Borneo and Kuala Lumpur did I wish for cooler weather? We swore to each other we wouldn’t complain about any cold weather when we reached France and were reunited with our touring bicycles.

What does the transition look like? It looks like this at first.

And like this. The sorting and decision making.

But we get to this. Loaded and ready to ride downhill in the cold. Wearing all our cold weather gear day one.

Rain trousers not only keep you dry, but make sitting down anywhere super easy. Wet bench? Who cares.

Follow the Via Rhôna signs for 815 kilometers.

I would love to report that we kept to that promise to not complain about the cold, but we did not. I would also love to say it was easy once we rolled out on two bikes with four panniers each. It was fantastic but not easy. It took some getting used to.

The bare trees and grey skies make dramatic landscapes.

Tabac stop for chocolate milk. A good riding snack and the only place open Sunday afternoon!

Sheltering from hail in a farmer’s yard.

After a morning ride through Switzerland, back to France. Borders still resonate with us, especially when crossed by bike.

Yes, I’m on this ride too! Wet weather and thick gloves make pictures hard to take. Riding away from our first night stay in Valleiry.

The route has lovely pavement in stretches.

Pasty and tea break. We can usually count on churches to have benches.

With bare trees you get a better view, like of this rail bridge over the shockingly blue Rhône River.

Sometimes the chateaus hide behind corners and you don’t see them unless you look back.

The Rhône River and a backdrop of snowy mountains.

Another chilly morning in Chanaz. Day 3 back on the bikes. Those oven mitt looking things are my new bike sleeves, to keep my hands warm. Made in France.

It’s not easy to get back in the groove of bike touring. After months off the bikes it’s a bit painful to ride day after day. But, the best way to get into bike touring shape is to bike tour. So, on we go.

I like the signage. It makes you feel welcome.

Getting to closer to Lyon where we were meeting up with friends. (Hi Justina and Joe!)

I’m a bit far behind Rich at this point. So, just taking photos of the scenery.

The cliffs are dramatic, and the stone buildings echo the colors of the mountains of the Rhône-Alpes region.

A community oven in an old stone building.

Across the street, a water tap which was much appreciated as most are still turned off for the season.

The bridges across the river are majestic.

More pastries, best raisin swirl we’ve had, and the weather is warming up.

Well placed picnic table. View of the river and a chateau.

Small bottles of delicious white wine. I love this country!

Rolling out of Jons. I just noticed how my rain jacket complements Rich’s panniers. And his mine.

Riding into Lyon. Looking forward to seeing friends, and happy the weather is warming up.

One last break along the river before getting into Lyon proper.

Someone in the Jean-Macé neighborhood is filling in cracked sidewalks with mosaic tile. Gorgeous.

I got to sit and tour Lyon via streetcar. Very relaxing.

Rich creating an accidental face at the EuroNews building near the Confluence in the 2nd Arrondissement in Lyon.

Colorful view of the Vieux neighborhood from the Musée Cinéma et Miniature. Well worth a visit of several hours.

Sunset over the Gare de part Dieu. From our Ibis hotel room if we opened the double paned windows we could hear the platform announcements.

The happy travelers even happier with friends. Thank you J&J!

The biggest impact of starting a bike tour is how pleasantly tired we are at the end of the day. Oh the sleeping is fantastic. Such deep sleep. Hiking in Wales last summer we met a guy who was powering up a hill with a loaded backpack on. Are you training for something, I asked him? No, just tiring myself out so I’ll sleep, he said. That’s us this week. So tired I can’t find many words for this post. More later from the Via Rhôna south of Lyon.

Linking up sections of La Loire á Vélo.

Picnic spots of the world. Relaxing along the Loire River.

We got a bit spoiled with the bike infrastructure riding out of La Boule – Escoublac, Brittany. As we continue to happily notice, France is really stepping up their bicycle and pedestrian game. It’s so nice to feel welcomed and cared for while bike touring. And it sure looks as if it’s having an impact on local trips made by bicycle in towns we went through.

The newly redone section of La Boule – Escoublac promenade. Even more bike and ped space.

A new section of off street cycle path in Pornichet.

Saint-Nazaire continues the bicycle love. The port in the distance.

We were headed to Saint-Nazaire to cross the bridge over the mouth of the Loire River and hang a left up the river path. We’ve ridden other sections of the Loire in years past, and had been impressed with how wild and wide sections of the river are. Our last ride on the Loire was downriver towards the Bay of Biscay and the North Atlantic Sea, but we ran out of time before we could reach the end. This time we would start at the mouth, or delta, and head up river. But first, we had to get to and cross the Pont de Saint-Nazaire. A big bridge accessible through the working port.

Into the port area, bike lanes still apparent.

Oh. New signage. Watch out for workers walking.

Let’s talk about how difficult it can be to get info on cycling conditions. We’ve faced challenging bridges before, and even been shuttled over bridges. We knew this one would be tough, but Rich couldn’t find many photos or info online about the actual lanes or shoulders, other than to see it was not great, and we hadn’t seen any other bike tourists for a while so no asking for first hand experiences. As we got to the approach of the bridge there was a bus stop with information on the shuttle bus with bike trailer that ran from May through September 24, all week, and then on weekends only. It was Friday, September 29. Yup. We’d have to ride. I have no photos of our ride across the bridge. As I was concentrating on staying as far right in the 2 foot shoulder as I could, without bashing my panniers into the guardrail, I briefly considered snapping a photo but decided I would rather live. It was pretty nasty. French drivers are good, but the lane configuration was one lane in our direction, two lanes in the other, and a closed lane on the far side.

If we had been riding the other direction we would have had an empty lane next to us, but in our direction we were next to a lane of car and truck traffic. I could see that the drivers were passing Rich as carefully as they could, and pulling into the oncoming lane when they could, but Rich, ahead of me, couldn’t see how I was getting along.

Once we got across and looked back I had two thoughts: damn, that sucked, and oh, that’s why the red stripes on the cute worker emblems on the path. It’s the paint job of the bridge.

We met two French cycle tourists heading towards the bridge later that day who said they had booked a shuttle, with a taxi company, we finally figured out. So that would be my recommendation to anyone interested in crossing the Saint-Nazaire Bridge by bike when the shuttle bus is off season, especially if is windy (which thankfully it was not on our crossing).

That bridge is on our list: Do not ride.

Recovering with a pastry and juice break.

Historic and still active fishing shacks, with crane nets, in the delta of the river.

Modern port activities across the river, historic shacks on our side.

With the bridge behind us we headed up the Loire, enjoying the wide open grassy marshlands and plenty of bird life. Our destination for that night was Nantes.

Hunting season starts in France in September, which is when we are usually bike touring. We had seen boar hunts in the past and got out of the area as quickly as we could. This trip we saw even more hunting going on since we were right at the beginning of the season opening.

Look out for cyclists, tractors, and hunters.

It was a bit nerve wracking to ride a stretch between Mt. St. Michel and St. Malo and have hunters shooting in the fields on either side of us. That’s when we got out our fluorescent accessories, which are always a good thing to have with you when cycling.

Along the Loire it was boar hunting. Complete with baying hound dogs and signs along the road.

Some recent hunting tragedies mean the rules have tightened up a bit, this boar hunt looked to be very organized.

Free ferry across the river at Le Pellerin to get to Nantes.

Drat. Too short a ferry ride to even get my book out.

Not every stretch of road is picturesque. Coming in to Nantes along the train tracks, still a nice bike lane though.

If you are ever looking for a lovely city in France that is less crowded, and a bit more off the tourist radar, we highly recommend Nantes. We spent two nights there and were very impressed with work that’s been done in the past few decades to make the city greener and give it a really pleasant ambiance. I think it’s another of those places to visit that the French are well aware of but maybe no one tells the tourists? Well, we’re telling you – it’s lovely. So many beautiful streets in the old town and lovely plazas where people gather, bike lanes, trams, and even with a World Cup Rugby match on it was super enjoyable.

One of the streets of Feydeau, previously an island in the river until the arms of the river around it were filled in between 1926 and 1946.

Another street in Feydeau, looking north towards Centre-Ville.

A rest day means we get to visit sights, like Les Machines de l’Île , on an actual river in the Loire. A steampunks dream. Here, a spider to give you nightmares.

An old industrial site houses loads of mechanized wood and metal animals, which the workers load up with visitors and operate. Ever wanted to ride a giant ant?

This heron raised up on a gantry crane and “flew” with passengers on the back and in the two baskets.

Château des ducs de Bretagne. I do love a moat.

Off to the train station. We need a boost to get us back to our home base near Geneva. Enough lallygagging.

Bikes loaded on the hooks (our least favorite train set up – notice how far Rich’s handlebars stick out into the aisle.).

90 kms later and off at Angers. Three cheers for a ramp off the platform. So much easier then elevators.

The high water mark from an 1856 flood. We stopped for the water tap but I appreciate a good flood information board.

“It was after the big flood of the Loire in 1150 that Henri II Plantagenêt, Count of Anjou and King of England, ordered the construction of a dyke all along the Northern part of the riverside.” Riding on the levee was fascinating.

Once a delicate San Franciscan always a delicate San Franciscan. The weather was lovely, if a bit warm for us. 82f/26c as we rode along, and a bit hotter in the afternoon. Thankfully as we rode up river we entered the Tuffeau stone region: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuffeau_stone Where there is tuffeau there are caves created by the mining of tuffeau stones. Where there are caves there are streams of cold air coming out of the caves to cool hot cyclists.

People have been living in the caves since quarrying or mining of the stone began in the 11th century.

Riding along and getting a blast of cold air, sometimes from a cave you couldn’t even see through the undergrowth, or from one set up as storage for nearby cave house dwellers, called les troglodytes, was very refreshing. We didn’t swim in the Loire, but we did stop and wade into the refreshing water and tried to convince the small fish to nibble our toes – no luck.

The school of fish were curious but cautious.

It’s nice to arrive at your hotel in time to shower and relax. Rich is in the swimming pool. Château De Saumur in the background.

The lovely light color of the tuffeau stone is luminous in the evening light. After a nice galette dinner we walked up to the Château to admire the view and watch bats swirl around the walls.

Another advantage of a post dinner visit is having the Château to ourselves.

You’d think we’d be tired, but no, plenty of energy to take flattering evening light photos.

We were starting our last full day of cycle touring, from Saumur to Villandry, about 55 kms. It was going to be another pretty hot day so we wanted to get going and try to beat the afternoon heat. From Villandry it would be a short ride to Tours to catch a train to Lyon, one night in Lyon, and catch a train to Geneva.

Making some good time through the shady trees.

No way! The bike route goes into the cave.

It was an old road for commerce winding into the mountain. Where rock had been mined people set up houses and food storage.

Rich ducking under an impressive fig tree. Notice the door and house number to the right.

The little driveways leading to cave houses are so intriguing.

The cave houses stay the same temperature year round. Nice on a hot day like this one.

The former quarries or mines have been turned into houses, restaurants, wine cellars, and mushroom growing caves.

Really good info plaques. Of course I don’t speak French so I have to stop and Google translate each one.

A good pictorial of the history of the caves. Of course I still had to translate it. Not getting far this morning.

They had little stone buildings in the vineyards connected to a shaft down which they tossed the grapes to the press.

We emerged from the cave streets of Souzay and were in the vineyards. It was harvest and crush season and trucks were trundling to and fro.

We both noticed that our tires were making funny noises and both thought we’d gotten flats. That slightly velcro noise a bike tire makes as it’s losing air. Worrying. But we realized that the trucks carrying grapes, and carrying stems post crush, had left a sticky residue on the streets which was now stuck to our tires making them sticky. We’ll take sticky grape juice over a flat tire any day.

Stems dumped on the edge of a field. You could smell the crush everywhere. That wonderful ‘making wine’ smell.

Art galleries and restaurants. All in caves. We will definitely come back to this area again.

Back to the river. A shady bench to take a break.

A well timed picnic table for our lunch stop. We are now riding along the sunny levee road and the temperature is climbing.

The river to the left, I’m on the levee road, and the houses to the right of the levee. You ride along at the level of their upper floor windows. And sunny.

Rich avoiding the pavé by riding in the narrow dirt shoulder. We know this trick from many years of watching Paris-Roubaix.

Ah, a tree shaded lane to Villandry, where our hotel is …at the top of the hill!

The only upside to a hotel at the top of the hill is the ride back down in the morning. And the view. We headed out to catch a long local train to Lyon. Most train routing would involve a trip up to Paris and back down to Lyon by TGV, but the slower local train is worth the extra time since we wouldn’t have to change trains with our bikes. I appreciate the opportunity to read on a nice long train ride.

Now we’re on the Cher River, and it’s cooler.

“Built on the river Cher by Jacques de Beaune, François I’s Superintendent of Finances in the first quarter of the 16th century, The Great Mill is noteworthy for its sliding mechanism suspended above the water. This ingenious mechanism, which is usually used between the arches of bridges, enabled the mill to work all year round, regardless of the water level.” This mill remained active until 1973, when a new mill was built just inland.

Fields of brown sunflowers say it’s time to head in for the season. And we’re almost out of Schengen days.

Tours train station. That’s our train arriving behind Rich, one platform away.

Bikes secured. Ready for the six hour trip to Lyon.

We had a nice night in Lyon, another very bike friendly city. After a little discussion with the bike friendly hotel which initially wanted to charge us to park the bikes in their garage, the manager saw our point about being bike friendly and relented. We had a nice Thai meal, went to a craft beer bar, and to bed. Big city advantages.

Enjoying the river path in the morning before we ride to the train station.

A direct ride to the train station on a protected path.

The train from Lyon to Geneva is about 2 hours, then we were going to ride all the way to our home away from home, our good friends’ house in the Vallée Verte. It was our first time riding all the way up the valley, a very scenic 33kms/22 miles, but with almost 914m/ 3,000 feet of climbing. But scenic! Well stocked with snacks and having eaten lunch we headed off. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. I had visions of sending Rich ahead to get a car to rescue me, or flagging down a passerby to take my bags and lighten the load – as if my French were up to the challenge! – but I made it.

Still going up. There was some significant downhill since we choose a quiet route that went over a higher pass instead of direct.

Made it! A nice sense of accomplishment to have arrived under our own power.

Even though we both had tired legs the next day it was wonderful to ride all the way up to our familiar and much loved French home. Four+ months of bike touring was a new record for us. The new bikes really made it fantastic. If you’ve backpacked it’s the same feeling of self sufficiency and being ready to go anywhere. Now, we are in Albania. We took our first flight in almost five months from Geneva to Tirana, Albania. More from Albania soon.

The Happy Travelers with our new haircuts in Triana, Albania.

Winging it through Brittany (and Normandy) by bicycle.

The fearless leader of our tour of Brittany. In Normandy.

Rich and I joke that he is a tour leader with one client: me. He plans routes and navigates, books hotels, fixes mechanical issues on the bikes, and here in France, is also our translator. I provide restaurant and museum research, maintain a positive attitude in the group, and look for cats.

Off the ferry and on the bikes. Parc du Château des Ravalet. Hello France.

The long stone farm buildings are so captivating.

Our tour started later than we normally get riding, the ferry docked at 2pm at Cherbourg, Normandy, and we had a hotel reservation in Port-Bail-sur-Mer, about 42km/26m south. That was our only reservation and destination. The first day riding in a new area means getting used to the traffic and temperament of the drivers, shifting to riding on the right hand side of the road, being charmed by the buildings and gardens, and bonjour-ing everyone I see.

The restaurant across the street from our hotel.

Our first look at the tidal flats of Normandy.

Sunset casts a golden light on the Church of Our Lady.

I get a bit stressed by eating out in France at first. My French is minimal at best, and I can find the handwritten chalk board menus difficult to read.

Oh yes, I’m reminded that I have entered the land of chalk board menus and delicious food.

Moules marinières with frites. An easy choice in the land of seafood.

The tide rushes in so quickly, and the water is so clear.

Switching to bike touring mode again after a lovely summer of long stays at house sits and with friends is a little tough. We tend to stay only one night in places until we need a rest day, but after a long day riding, the checking in, lugging bags, unpacking, doing shower or sink laundry, have dinner, sleep, breakfast and repeat, seems overwhelming the first few days. “Did we get bad at this?” I asked Rich. He was wondering the same thing, but, it only took a few days for what felt like too much, to become normal again.

Ready to roll from Port-Bail-sur-Mer. Panniers are perfect on the bike, but awkward off the bike.

On to a multi use trail. Very relaxing riding.

…you have baked goods strapped to your rack.

The almost daily bakery stop, today in Lessay.

Which is followed by the daily search for a bench in the shade upon which to enjoy the pastries at about the 20k mark. This one was in a cemetery.

And an hour or two later, the search for a lunch spot. A picnic table is a welcome sight.

It’s not all about food, although food is important and delicious here, we also have a lot of stops to read history markers. Our first few days followed the path of General Patton’s Third Army as they broke through Normandy. We had a lot of history to ride though. Towns have streets named 28 of July, and further on 29 of July, to mark the day General Patton and the troops marched through, and bridges have plaques commemorating the march. It’s always spine tingling to read of what the French went through, and how much destruction was caused.

Pont de la Roque, bombed by the Allies to try to prevent the German troops from escaping.

Welcome bike and pedestrian improvements in towns and villages. This road into Granville looked very new.

Over the last few years we’ve noticed France becoming more and more bicycle friendly. Towns have more car free space, speed limits have been lowered nationwide in town limits and signs put up showing that people on foot and bike have priority. Wider sidewalks with bollards, separated bike lanes, and rules for car drivers to give 1.5 meter passing space to bicyclists (1 m in town) have all made quite a difference. We love pedaling into a town and seeing the completed work, or the work underway, as France has pledged a billion euro more to make streets safer for bikes and pedestrians.

We had previously only seen this street treatment in Denmark. Bike lanes and a car lane shared by both directions of car traffic.

In Denmark the bike lanes are red, here in France just marked by a dashed white line.

Outdoor dining in Granville. That’s a bottle of cider.

An extension of summer. Outdoor space still up and running.

Sunrise, Port de Hérel. The view is from our room at the Ibis hotel.

Heading out of Granville, another nice wide bike lane.

How many times will I call a town charming? Bacilly was charming.

Our third night would be spent near Mont Saint-Michel, and it would be our final night in Normandy. We would cross into Brittany just west of Mont Saint-Michel.

Riding the coast of Normandy means skirting a lot of river estuaries, at Le Val-Saint-Père.

Do not let your dog chase the Agneau de pré-salé (salt marsh lamb). A specialty of the area.

Now this way. The coast route is squiggly.

There it is. We’d been catching glimpses of it all day as we rode, but this view – it’s otherworldly.

Rich booked the hotel near Le Mont just the day before. Off season means much more availability, even on a Saturday night. We debated riding right out to Le Mont before checking in at our hotel but we decided to check in, shower, leave the bags and ride back out the 5 kilometers so we could lock our bikes and walk around. The causeway leading out to Le Mont is only open to shuttle buses, bikes, and pedestrians.

But even better, we had a cabin with resident friendly cat whom we promptly named Deuce, for our cabin, number 12.

Denied! The causeway was closed to bikes for a light show extravaganza that evening.

We retreated to the dam which was built to settle the sand from the incoming tide and avoid the river silting up.

Watched some adorable tourists all get their Instagram shots.

And back to our hotel for a bottle of wine and an Afgani dinner from the food truck run by the hotel owner’s sister and her husband.

Do not think we gave up. Even though the mosquitoes were feasting on us as we watched the wave from the incoming tide travel up the river to the dam, no staying for the extravaganza for us, we decided to get up with the sunrise and ride back out to Le Mont.

The next morning, rain was headed our way but we were not deterred. This is pre caffeine.

Success. At the island with a dramatic sky.

Yikes! Let’s get this island viewing under way!

Early Sunday morning and rain rolling in means very few other tourists.

One other small group was walking around when we first arrived but we only saw them once.

Although the shops cater to the tourists, the bones of the town remain visible.

It was well worth getting up early and braving the threat of rain to see the Mont with so few other tourists.

And back to our hotel for breakfast and much needed coffee and tea.

With the history of WW2 still so close, and much documented by historical markers and plaques, I had to look up what happened to Le Mont during that time. As you can guess it was held and occupied for four years and two months and – to our delight – we read it was liberated by one American, Private Freeman Brougher. You read that correctly, one Private in a jeep with two British reporters. Read the entire story here for a jolt of emotion and a few fantastic photos: https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/article/freeing-mont-saint-michel/

Photo from the article. More photos in the link to the website.

Although the rain held off for our visit to the island we were eventually caught after checking out of the hotel and heading out. We had to shelter to let the hardest rain pass by.

Barely on the road and already stopping to put our rain gear.

The weather cleared as we continued along the coast, past windmills.

They are used to harvest mussels. They can drive along the road, across the beach, and into the sea where the mussels are growing on pilings.

Picnic spots of the world. We had managed to get to a small shop just before it closed for Sunday afternoon

There is a lovely feeling of familiarity, going from Wales to Brittany. Both are Celtic lands and we find similarities that catch us by surprise. The style of the old buildings, the way the doors and windows are framed by brick, certain words, and, arriving in Saint Malo, reading that Saint Malo arrived in Brittany from Wales. He was one of the seven founding saints of Brittany.

We had to look up this city emblem, it’s a dog.

Saint Malo is the setting for the book All the Light We Cannot See, which we both read, and we were reminded of that fact by our friend Bob (Hi Bob! Thanks!).

Another super bike friendly French city.

Walking along the old ramparts. The city has a history of pirates!

We stayed out in a neighborhood called Saint-Servan-sur-Mer.

We rode our bikes down to a lovely harbor for high tide swims both mornings.

You can see how the tide and ramp makes for a great swimming spot.

The happy travelers, just before a swim.

So far, some pretty fierce headwinds aside, we’re really enjoying Britanny. The history, the food (the butter and the salted caramel made from the butter!), and friendly people. Especially once we’ve pedaled away from the tourist areas – then we really enjoy the opportunities to chat with locals who don’t often get Americans pedaling through town. On we go!

The star is where we landed, the hearts are where we slept. The blue dot was me when I snapped this pic from google maps. (For you Ruth!)

Wales to Brittany by bike. With a Stena Lines ferry boost.

The approach to the Fishguard Ferry terminal.

One of the only riddles I can always remember is “How do you get two whales in a Mini?” Answer: Over the Severn Bridge. Doesn’t work written down (to Wales in a Mini), and rarely works for an American audience- the Severn Bridge? Wales? What?

Our riddle was how to get us and two bikes quickly and efficiently from Wales to France. Big touring bikes that do not fit easily in the bike closets provided on many UK trains. We could have ridden all the way to Portsmouth or another southern England port, but to be honest bike touring in a lot of the UK is not fantastic. And we wanted to get back to France to tour while the weather was still good, not spend more time crossing Britain. The answer to our riddle? Stena Lines Ferry.

For the first leg of our trip our friends in Tenby generously drove us and our bikes to Fishguard, Wales, for our 24 hour fun journey to France.

Rich waiting with our ferry behind him. This ferry will take us to Ireland.

Let’s get this show on the road! Lunch and snacks in the bag.

I love traveling by ferry. It’s a fantastic way to get between the continent and the UK or Ireland without flying. Flying not only has a bigger carbon footprint than the ferry, but it’s also a pain with bicycles. Ferries and bikes are quite easy. At Fishguard the bikes wait with foot passengers, who are driven onto the ferry by a bus, but we bikes get to wheel on with our own escort.

Rich in the bike nook, cars loading on behind him.

The bikes are secured with a rope, provided by the helpful staff person you see securing a motorcycle behind Rich. The motos are strapped down to recessed hooks in the floor.

Secure and ready to go. For this 3 hour journey we leave the bags on the bikes.

I always snap a photo of our deck number and stairwell color. Just in case we both forget.

Then it’s a cup of tea, a coconut macaroon from Loafly Bakery in Tenby, and a sheltered spot on the sun deck.

We were the only two people with bikes on this ferry trip, but there were quite a few motorcycles. We all wait to unload together.

I’m still fascinated by the huge car and truck decks on these ferries. It’s a bit intimidating to be a little cyclist surrounded by trucks and cars as you exit.

I don’t take pictures while disembarking, I’m too busy trying to keep up with the flow and not skid on the steel plates of the ramp. It looks more dodgy than it is, but I prefer both hands on my handlebars for this part of the trip.

Our next ferry, from Rosslare Harbour, County Wexford, would take us to Cherbourg, France. This was a long ferry ride, 16 hours. You have to purchase a cabin, no sleeping in the chairs. While in line for this ferry we chatted with a nice Irish cyclist named David, headed to France for a Rugby World Cup game and to meet up with his brother. Also traveling by bike.

Motorcycles and bikes loading from lane 12.

The bikes on this ferry were stashed next to a conveyor belt, and lashed to it by a staff person.

We were a bit mystified and annoyed by the fact that this ferry seemed to allow only four bikes on. When Rich was making reservations the website told him at first that there was only 1 bike space left. He was able to get both bikes on the next day, it seems that when his initial attempt to reserve and pay hung up in the payment phase, it locked down the 2 bike spots and they needed some time to reset and release. David agreed with us that it was ridiculous to allow only four bikes on a massive ferry loaded with cars and trucks, he said he would probably just show up and talk his way on, if he had been denied a bike reservation. We’re not that confident in our gift of gab, not being Irish, but we all agreed to send sternly worded emails to the Stena Line Ferry company. (We otherwise really like this ferry company.)

Behind this door, Premium Class Cabins. That was us! We went Premium Class.

A very comfortable cabin. You can see one of the upper bunks above Rich, this cabin could sleep four.

The cabin had a kettle, tea and coffee, some snacks, outlets with continental plugs – two pin – and a very decent sized bathroom. More later on morning amenities. First, off to the bar!

White wine and Guinness. Rich couldn’t be in Ireland, however briefly, without having a Guinness. Dance floor available, pop music blaring from the sound system.

The view from the Metropolitan Bar. We imagine that during busy summer holidays the dance floor gets some use.

We decided on this trip to just eat from the restaurant instead of bringing on our own dinner or breakfast. You could certainly save money by taking on your own picnic meals, but the food got pretty good reviews so we made our lives easier and went to the buffet restaurant for dinner and breakfast.

The buffet and a guy who gets his money’s worth from a buffet.

My first plate, noodle salad, Greek salad, and veggies. All quite good.

Dinner at the buffet was a success. There was a bar in the restaurant, drinks not included except water and tea/coffee, we opted for water.

We went for an after dinner walk on deck and then it was off to bed in our comfortable cabin.

Another benefit of Premium Class was the morning coffee and milk from the coffee machine in the hallway, and croissants and raisin rolls, and oddly, magazines. Good Housekeeping and Men’s Health, and the duty free magazine.

Coffee, pastries, and water in the fridge.

Yes, I was out in the hallway in my jammies, this was just outside our door.

And then I was tucked up back in bed with tea made with the room kettle, with fresh
milk from the machine, a croissant, and a magazine.

Since we had a ride planned from when the ferry docked at 2pm to our first night in Normandy at Port-Bail-sur-Mer, we went and enjoyed the breakfast buffet to make sure we were fueled for our 46 km hilly ride.

Breakfast buffet was served from 8 to 10 am.

Another walk on the deck, watching for land.

The flag has the silhouette of Cyprus, where this boat is registered.

Lifeboats. Which you hope no one ever has to use. They hold 114 people each.

Finally allowed back to our bikes, we found the trucks were parked right next to our bikes and the floor had puddles of sea water. David, Rich, and a nice nomadic French cyclist whose name I didn’t get. Chatting with other cyclists is a fun bonus of ferry travel.

Ten years nomadic cycling. He said he’s off to the US next. Nice guy.

Traveling with bikes on the Stena Line or Brittany Ferries is becoming our regular way of getting to and from the UK from the continent or Ireland. This was our 12th ferry trip, seventh with bikes, since going nomadic just over two years ago. Eight have been long crossings, and four were shorter hops, Germany to Sweden, Denmark, etc. On this trip our Stena lines reward number got a work out as we bought so many meals – not inexpensive – but now we have points for future discounts. As I mentioned above, you could certainly make this journey less expensive by getting a standard cabin, and either bringing your own picnic meals or opting for a non buffet dinner and breakfast. The premium cabins vary ship to ship, on one from Hook of Holland to Harwich we had a full sized bed in the cabin and no upper bunks. Both were very comfortable and we slept well.

The happy travelers headed from Wales to Ireland.

We’re now in France, cycle touring in Normandy and Brittany. And guess what? That heat wave in Wales may have been our last summer heat, the weather has taken a decidedly autumnal turn.

How to take a vacation from your travels. And on to the next adventure.

It’s been over a year since we’ve been nomading, vagabonding, wandering – whatever it is we’re doing. The transitions can be very challenging, city to county side, country to country, bike touring to backpack travel again. How do we do it without burning out, or driving each other bonkers? Our secret superpower is a home base in France, thanks to wonderful friends who hopefully know how much we appreciate it. There we can swap gear, relax in familiar and comfortable surroundings (Oh, comfy couch, we love you.), and actually be in different rooms from each other! For hours!

Those are the smiles of travelers who get to be somewhere familiar and cozy, and swap out some gear.

We are super fortunate to have a private home where we can recharge, but we also have places which are familiar and comfortable that provide the same mental break. Bristol, in the UK. A city we love and have been to three times. Hove/Brighton will be one of those places as well. Both have good public transit, lots to do and see and good for getting around the area. Izmir, Turkey is probably one of the places we’ll go back to again and feel happy knowing our way around, and what we like to do and eat. Our home town of San Francisco, of course. A place where you can navigate without a map and know the bus routes and bike routes. That feels great, wherever it is.

The relief felt when encountering French bike infrastructure again is massive.

But wait, how did we get here? As Rich mentioned in the previous post, Hove to the Haute Savior takes about 13 not always easy steps, with loaded touring bikes. Trains, a ferry, rides to and from hotels, to and from trains, trains to trains, and finally a lift the last few steep miles. We love the UK, but the French have really zoomed ahead of the British with safe, comfortable bike facilities, especially in urban areas and to connect town and cities. From getting off the ferry in the dark and rain, and directly on to a protected cycle way to our hotel, to the next morning riding the riverside path that led us into Caen for our train to Paris, it felt easy and relaxed. We both breathed a sigh of relief. Oh yeah, this is fun! Bike touring with no safe route is so stressful. Bike touring with lovely pathways and signage? A joy.

Headed from Ouistreham where the ferry docks, into Caen.

Arrived at Gare Paris Saint-Lazare via train. Tick off another step.

Rue de Rivoli in Paris at rush hour. Headed to our hotel in the 12 arrondissement.

Let’s take a moment to recognize what an amazing transformation Paris has undergone. 10k at rush hour with loaded touring bikes and it was not at all stressful. Even though we probably caused some near misses as we stopped at red lights and the cyclists behind us kept going – there was no cross traffic so they were being safe, just not expecting the big old loaded American touring bikes to actually stop! We got the hang of it. The quiet of Rue de Rivoli was like a forest bath. The sound of voices and bike tires. No loud engines. No car horns. Just the lovely sound of people. I’ll say it again, cities aren’t loud, internal combustion engines are loud.

Gare de Lyon, waiting for our TGV platform to be announced. One night in Paris is too short a stay, but still fun.

Three trains later, yada yada yada, we made it!

So, now that our legs, backs, and bottoms are totally adapted to bike touring, after four months of travel by and with bikes, let’s mix it up!

Load up that backpack, lace up the boots, and let’s Camino.

While down in town at the weekly market, where we walked with our packs which have scallop shell Camino patches on them, a young man said to us – you have a long way to go. And then after I used my one good French phrase “I’m sorry, I don’t speak French.”, he said it again in English. (Oh, to be bilingual.) Why thank you for thinking we could and would walk all the way from the French border with Switzerland to Santiago de Compostela, Spain, but no. We will actually fly to Bilbao.

We try quite hard to not fly places. This will be our first flight since returning from Turkey in May. Unfortunately, avoiding air travel means you must have time, and more money than the cheap flights cost. But, we do what we can, and sometimes our chosen lifestyle means airplanes.

Lunch break on our first training day out with our packs.

And rain it did. We were grateful to find this shelter by a glider field so we could enjoy our lunch.

With packs on and trekking poles in hands we started walking. And walking some more. Hopefully we’ll be in good enough hiking shape for the long Camino days.

A very helpful and beautiful orientation table at the peak of the climb. It did clear a bit on our way back.

Practicing the Camino picnic. My Cleverhood rain cape doubles as a ground cloth for sitting.

What a place to be able to train for the Camino. The Lower Alps are simply stunning. Varied terrain, nicely signposted routes, amazing views. And beautiful cows. Making all that delicious cheese.

The Happy Travelers on our final training hike. The sun came out to bid us farewell.

By the time you read this we will be headed to Spain. We’re meeting dear friends from California to hike part of the Camino del Norte. Adiós y Buen Camino!

Shifting Gears in Saxony

Happy June everyone and hope that you are are enjoying the summer so far. Getting out on the bikes has been nice, but we’ve hit a few bumps in the road along the way, and rambling without a detailed plan in the beginning of peak European travel season is a bit more challenging.

On the Elbe river valley north of Dresden

So we’ve been mixing up some regional train hops and full cycling days to make our way out of the state of Hessen, across Thuringia, and well into Saxony. The scenery has been beautiful in late Spring with full greenery and loads of wildflowers.

Relaxing in he Schlossgarten in Fulda. June in Europe is so green to these California eyes.

We’ve managed to learn a lot more about the local history via some great museums and historic sites. It’s an area steeped in history from the early Middle Ages to the tumultuous 20th century of 2 wars, partition, and reunification. The Forum museum in Leipzig is highly recommended as it’s an extremely well curated and interactive history of the GDR.

The former interior border at Gerstungen. Amazingly, six days later, a connector strip had been paved. A shocking change for the residents and the world.

As much as we thought that we knew the basic history of the former Eastern Block, this museum will add to your understanding, and you can’t help put it in the current context agression in Ukraine, as well as a lot of the variances in prosperity that still divide the former East and West.

Inside Wartburg Castle, where Martin Luther famously translated the Bible as part of the Protestant reformation in 1520.

The great hall in Wartburg Castle, a fascinating mix of 15th century construction, with more ornate 18th and 19th century “renovations”

The biggest challenge of the past week has been that Cheryl has been less than 100% due to a nasty stomach bug, which hit her hard for a few days, with a slow recovery. Cycle touring and stomach bugs are not the best combination, so we’ve had to scale back our cycling distances and incorporate a bit more rest and recovery into our agenda. It was kind of rough for a few days. But she stayed in the tour and carried on.

A needed break on the old Hessen rail trail east of Frankfurt

Luckily, the train system has helped to shorten some days and get us on to places of more interest, such as Leipzig, and now Dresden, both vibrant and interesting cities. But Cheryl is a trooper, and despite running on fumes, continued to cycle most days, with my challenge being to make sure the day was not too tough or long! She’s on the mend now and we anticipate heading out of Dresden tomorrow with more oomph in our pedaling!

Cheryl reflecting sunset over the Elbe in Dresden. Both Leipzig and Dresden have extensive tram systems approaching 100 miles in length. Low boarding, fast, and free with our €9 monthly train ticket!

On the mechanical front, I started to notice as we left Bad Hersfeld that my back tire seemed to be rubbing the fender more and more. It turns out that my long lasting Schwalbe Tire had a bulge developing in one spot….definitely time for a new tire! Luckily we made it to Fulda, which had a half dozen bike shops listed, so I engaged on the hunt for a new tire.

Did we mention how friendly the ducks are?

The first place in town had a single lovely Schwalble Marathon 700×38 tire. These hand finished German tires are the clear global favorites in the bike touring and commuting community. Unfortunately, with my tight fender and frame, this tire was one size too big and they had no other similar tires. The next shop on the edge of town had no Schwable touring tires, but was able to sell me a right sized 700×35 Matrix touring tire. I’d never heard of the brand, but his shop was full of their parts. As it turns out, these Thailand made parts are some of the most available. I figured I better take it.

The glamorous life of cycle touring in Eisenach

Since he spoke English, I was able to get an informative update on the global supply chain issues still facing the bicycling industry. I asked him about bike parts for a full group replacement on my touring bike, as all my well loved Ultegra parts are close to failing. (Hang in there right shifter!). He said that parts are still on short supply and that it may be cheaper or more plausible just to buy a new touring bike! Zoinkees.

The cherries are delicious, and especially when you’re a bit taller than most pickers!

Foraging is a nice option as summer fruits ripen

He said that e-bikes, mountain bikes, and kids bikes are now more available, but that touring/hybrid/road bikes are still hard to get. He also noted that aluminum supplies have been disrupted from Ukraine war, so frame and part manufactures may have more issues! The last few years have really opened up the worlds eyes to the fragility of global supply chains, and the relative bounty we all had in the past 30 years of massive global expansion.

You must be this tall to fight in medieval war

So I put on the new €20 touring tire and hope it holds up for even half the life of my trusty Schwable. So far so good.

Disobey this divine don’t walk signal in Fulda at your peril!

But where to next? We are still discussing some options as are now eager to get further north to the Baltic Coast and cross to Sweden. We love Germany, but it does have many quirks, and we can tell that we may have had our fill for now of small town Germany (And even brats, schnitzel, and potatoes… hence our pull to the vibrant cities for Vietnamese food and burritos!).

Cheryl captured in the burning lens ca. 1728, at the fantastic Zwinger scientific and astronomical collection in Dresden

The city and town connections via cycle routes are wonderful here, and it’s safe, pleasant, clean. The bigger cities, such as Leipzig and Dresden are diverse, fantastic to explore, and have very low automobile traffic. (So quiet in most central neighborhoods!). But there is indeed (a somewhat stereotypical) rigidity and other quirks to life here that can make make cycle touring more challenging. Like what, you ask?

Mostly so pleasant to cycle tour in Germany and a million miles of paths to explore.

No public drinking fountains…anywhere! Not along cycle routes, not in parks, not even outside bathrooms….and by the way, public bathrooms are also EXTREMELY rare. Museums or restaurants are your best bets. So if you can’t pee al fresco, frequently without hesitation, then cycle touring here is not for you. The only solution to the lack of water fountains is to buy water (which we only do as last resort) or bring a lot of water for the day (which we do).

And what is rarer than a public bathroom in Germany? A convenience store. They are not part of the culture, even in cities. They are everywhere in Denmark and Sweden, with fresh foods, and takeaway options….perfect for cycle touring.

A near riot prior to 6pm Aldi closing. It was the only open supermarket in central Dresden over Whit Monday holiday weekend.

There may not be convenience stores anywhere, but there are so many bakeries!

But we have found that below the sometimes abrupt exterior of some Germans, there is a deep care the environment and the plight of others. We saw the heartwarming handling of the 2015 Syrian refuge crisis in Munich, and again have witnessed the real welcome signs for Ukrainians on 2022. And they don’t brag about it, they just do it.

Welcome signs everywhere; and housing, food, and other refugee support.

So we head north this Friday morning by train, feeling our privilege to be healthy and free.

The intrepid travelers carry on…outside Wartburg Castle, Eisenach.

Last tourists out of Morocco, please report to the airport.

A very empty Marrakech airport. It is a beautiful airport.

How quiet was the Marrakech airport on December 12th, 2021? Birds. We could hear the chirping of little birds who had snuck into the terminal. We heard and saw them in the uncrowded check in hall, in the line-less security area, and out at the empty gates. They were flying around, perching on ductwork and light fixtures, and scouring the area for crumbs. With so few travelers they weren’t having much luck finding food. Flights had been curtailed for two weeks already, and the Kingdom had just announced an additional travel ban through the end of December.

Two days before, up in the Atlas Mountains. Still thinking our Dec. 14th flight would be flying.

A few days earlier we had rented a car in Marrakech after arriving via bus from Essaouira to spend two nights up in Inmil. We wanted to see the splendor of the Atlas Mountains. While out hiking on our first chilly morning in the mountains we got an e-mail from the US State Department telling Americans still in Morocco to leave or risk being stuck. Almost immediately on the heels of that email came one canceling our December 14th flight. Uh oh.

The travel planner springs into action. Out of the photo is the cell phone tower which made this quick action possible.

Rich got a flight booked after a tense bit of time with all operating airlines websites failing to work, and flights already booking up. Relieved, but not completely comfortable, we quickly hightailed it back to our Riad to pack and get back on the road. We needed to get a COVID test that day or early the next morning in order to be able to fly to Paris.

One last fun interaction with these young girls coming home from school who were thrilled to practice their French with us.

Our division of driving labor is Rich driving and me navigating. We made it down from the mountains and through Marrakech to the COVID test center with only one bobble. A slightly tricky trip down a crowded market street to get back on the main road on the correct side of the lab to park the car. That doesn’t sound as stressful as it was, with Rich having to thread the rental car between scooters, vendor carts, and pedestrians. We returned the rental car and Rich booked us in to the thankfully nearby Raddison Hotel. If ever there was a time to check into a comfort hotel this was it.

Waiting for our room while relaxing by the pool.

Oh yes, I failed to mention I was on the rocky road of food poisoning, with the worst yet to come. The distraction of scrambling to divert plans kept me propped up until the next day when I succumbed and took to bed.

Jardin Majorelle-Yves Saint Laurent Mansion. My only outing in Marrakech.

After this photo Rich put me in a taxi back to the hotel and headed out solo.

Jemaa el-Fnaa square. Normally packed with visitors, very quiet as viewed by Rich during his second breakfast.

Once again we could feel the sense of despair from all the hospitality workers, knowing that no more visitors were able to come to Morocco. The taxi driver to the airport failed to turn the meter on and we didn’t even bother to protest or haggle, just paid, tipped, and wished him well. We were likely his last tourists for some time.

A few days short of our planned four weeks, but thanks to Rich’s amazing planning skills we saw a lot of Morocco.

While waiting in line at the airport to check in and check bags we struck up a conversation with a lovely mother son traveling duo who had come to Marrakech to spend three months and were also heading out early due to the shut down. We had managed to complete almost our entire hoped for itinerary, so we left with no regrets – except my food poisoning. They were headed to Bangkok via Paris and Amsterdam and had a 14 day quarantine to look forward to in Bangkok.

On the way to security screening. No crowd. Me keeping it together for travel day. Just.

Marrakesh Menara Airport’s gorgeous ceiling. In 2019 it handled over 6.3 million visitors.

And here we are in Paris. Another one of those culture shock travel days completed. Doing COVID testing and entry paperwork for each leg of our trip back to the UK adds another level of frustration to travel in the age of COVID. Rich keeps track of the ever changing regulations and makes sure we have printed copies for airport days. I’m sure the challenge of the paperwork and the cost of the testing is putting a lot folks off travel. We took a deep breath in Paris and enjoyed the Christmas feel I was missing in Morocco, before we dove back into on-line forms and registration of tests to get to the UK. Next stop, London and then Edinburgh.

The happy travelers in Paris, on to the next chocolate shop!

Stay safe , and Happy Holidays all.

Reflections on the City of Light

We finally ditched our beloved bikes and rolled into Paris in style on the TGV from Annecy. Since we travelled on a weekend, my €49/year discount SNCF Carte Adulte offered first class for just a few Euro more than second, so first class it was with nice facing “Club Duo”. “Good train time per $!” as my friend Mike would say.

Upper deck of the TGV. Comfy (me) and stylish (the train)

Carrying our gear on our backs was quite a shock and we have both vowed again to rid our bags of even more things before we move onto to any travels further afield. Seriously!

We chose to stay in the 10th Arrondissement, and were pleased with the choice as it spans a clear transitional world between the more traditional Parisienne neighborhoods such as the Marais to the more working class and immigrant neighborhoods. It is a fascinating mix of cultures, but clearly dealing with strong gentrification pressure. There is a palpable delineation between the older neighborhood residents and the new boho hipsters. The similar global urban story of businesses transitioning to serve the new residents, and the older residents being priced out. And maybe we are adding to the problem, or are we just supporting a variety of small businesses?

The backstreets of the 10th on a Sunday afternoon

Rue de Belleville on a warm fall evening

The neighborhood is also blessed with the lovely Canal Saint Martin, which is even more pleasant now that ped/bike priority streets have been added on both sides, and reminded us of the Panhandle in San Francisco. (With water and locks of course.

We explored Paris every day to a blissful exhaustion, but found rush hour walking tough, both on the busy boulevards and back streets, as sidewalks are single-file only with the usual urban bobbing and weaving. We also took a few trips on Lime e-bikes, and some of the new bike facilities are fantastic! But wayfinding and the intersections tough for first time Paris cyclists. Cyclists are everywhere and go in every direction, but are mostly looking and have tamed cars with their unpredictability and sheer quantity. We like that.

By the way, as of November 2019, Velib does not accept US or Canadian credit cards, even with chips, chip and PIN, and card authorization through your cc company. Big bummer, as we tried numerous times ways and were thwarted. Apparently too much fraud?

We did hit a few of the major tourist spots, such as the Louvre and Sacre-Couer, but found exploring the edges of Montmartre more satisfying then the throngs by the famous stairs.

Tomb of Oscar Wilde, Père Lachaise Cemetery

I am still amazed how the A-list sites are absolutely inundated, yet one turn up a quiet side street can reveal hidden wonders and always find that in big cities, we prefer random neighborhood wandering, small museums and parks.

Our favorite bar in Montmartre which was delightfully out of central casting for 90s indie film!

France and the people we have met have been so kind to us, both on and off the bikes, and we are starting to feel a little more kinship and understanding with their perspective on living life, history, geography and the struggles to maintain liberté in the 2020s.

Au revoir et bon voyage!