Cycling in France

A less challenging but most enjoyable penultimate day before travelling back

2011-12-12T11:06:00.000-08:00

The Church at Seur

We were rather tired after our circuitous lengthy ride to Chambord and back, so we breakfasted at the Gite on Croissants and a shared Tarte Abricots- that crėme patissier is something else. Well fortified we set off at a leisurely pace for Seur and stopped to have a look round, especially at the church which dominated this nearby quiet village. Previously we had sped through on our way to Montrichard or on our way back from Cheverney, but it was most enjoyable to take the pace down a notch or two and just amble along with no great urgency. The stained glass church windows were interesting and the tranquillity was very relaxing.

We then took a way marked trail down the side of the Seuvre to Montheu and on to Valaire where lunch at an attractive little restaurant beckoned. We decided not to eat since we were not sufficiently impressed by the menu. Another time perhaps. We then followed the Loire along a road which bounded it, following its levee until it seemed the right route to veer back towards Chailles and we headed away from the river down a very narrow road. Traversing minor roads left and right we emerged at Villelouet, not far from La Haye and directly opposite the Supermarket where we had shopped for basics. We bought enough food for late lunch and dinner and returned to the gite.

Back to La Haye via Blois

2011-12-05T09:52:00.000-08:00

View across the field from the Chausee Prive to the gite

Time has marched on and we are miles away from home. The realisation comes over us that we have some hard cycling to do if we are to get bck before nightfall. Maybe, buoyed by yesterday’ success we have overreached ourselves. It is going to be a race against time. Our urgency is not helped by a decision to take the cycleway hich presents itself and from the map seems to go towards Blois. Instead it veers towards St Dye before turning westwards and delays us even longer than necessary. So when the cycleway crosses the road to Blois we take it. The most direct way is the priority now. We pedal like mad relentlessly wearing down the kilometres as we pass through places shown on the Michelin map so we can trace our journey and gain encouragement from making progress towards Blois. The ‘D’ road is almost straight and we pass through St Claude and Vineuil where a right turmn takes us onto a main road for Blois for a short distance until we reach the river and turn laft to follow it back to the bridge across which we had travelled earlier that day.

We stopped at traffic lights at the bridge, had a drink by the river, bought a grand pain and some tuna quiche and moved off at quite a pace in the failing light along the levee down which we had come earlier. When we reached the gite it was almost dark and we were exhausted and very hungry. It had been another brilliant day.

The Largest Chateau : Chambord

2011-11-30T01:02:00.000-08:00

The Avenue to Chambord

The easy option is rarely our choice so the train back to Blois is only considered briefly before we remount and recross the bridge at Muides and head through the village towards the chateau at Chambord. The heat is blinding but we soon reach the outer gates at the edge of the perimeter wall round the estate. After a very straight and unexpectedly long journey we see the chateau at the end of a tree lined avenue Traffic is barred but we are able to cycle towards it, the way almost deserted and it seems as if we are privileged to approach from this side as carriages would have done in the past. The moat is magnificent and the chateau’s size is immense.

Chambord: from the Rear

Sylvia has been in search of a glace for days – framboise to be precise, which she has with a scoop of coconut. I have one scoop of nougat. We relax at the rear of the chateau as we eat them and then tired from our exertions – pedalling, not eating the ice cream – we have a snooze.

A Memorable Lunch

2011-11-29T02:08:00.000-08:00

Bird Island

The restaurant we were heading for is closed for the winter and we have no time to mope about our misfortune. We need to make “other arrangements”. Our disappointment is tinged with the hard edge of not wanting to go hungry since we have built up a healthy appetite on our journey, which has also made us tired. We can head to the auberge at Muides sur Loire with Mer as a backstop and possible train journey back to Blois if we wish. Or we can head straight inland tto Chambord and eat there.

Heron

The auberge is closed but at Mer we get lucky. At 1.55pm we park up in the searing mid day heat and walk into a lovely little restaurant in the centre of town. We are attracted by its Plat du Jour: Porc avec carrottes. We add entrées as the gaspacho and salmon rilette look very attractive. A noisy set of diners fish their meal and leave us in peace. The gaspacho is superb: pieces of jambon and floating French bread with creamy goat’s cheese aboard. The rillette is also great, and is served with a creamy crevette sauce.

A Memorable Lunch

The Plat du Jour is slow roasted belly pork. It is lip smackingly good with its amalgam of juices and meat forming a crust to be savoured. The high flavour of the meat is softened by the plainly presented pile of steamed buttered carrots which have a light dusting of parsley on the top. Another fine lunch is completed by an éclair filled with praline cream and sailing in a pool of crēme anglais.

St Dye sur Loire

2011-11-26T04:05:00.000-08:00

View across the River Loire

Back on the bikes we sped off down the side of the Loire taking in the beauty of the awesomely wide river and the wildlife. The birds perched on islands and rocks in mid stream presumably preoccupied by watching for a tasty morsel to glide past which they might grab for lunch. In the heat everything was languid, although the herons moved fast enough when I tried to shoot them – with the camera and the cormorants disappeared from view when you thought you were still watching them.

Another superb view

The distance to Blois displayed on the signs increased as we enjoyed the views and the activity on the river. Soon we were near our goal and looked for the Rue d’Eglise which would take us inland to the road along which this small village spreads out like a ribbon. As we passed the church we saw the spire swathed in scaffolding as the building was being renovated. We hit the main road. Disaster. Fermé

A Digression in Blois

2011-11-24T15:35:00.001-08:00

The Bridge towards St Dye sur Loire which we crossed

We reached Gare de Blois in almost exactly one hour which reassured us that we could comfortably make the train on our journey home. After this we planned to travel to St Dye sur Loire for lunch if it wasn’t too much, but first we needed to buy some stamps to stick on the postcards we had written so we headed for the Post Office.

The lady in the Post Office finished dealing with the previous customer, tool one look at me, shrugged and left her position, closing the gate to the area she had occupied and moved to the next one where there were two positions on the counter. One of these was already occupied by a colleague who was busy serving someone.

“Huit étampes pour cartes postales à Angleterre si vous plait“, I blurted out, hopefully. She shrugged again. Without a word she relinquished her position again and returned to the desk she had previously occupied. Then, looking up, exhibiting an overt degree of patience, she displayed eight fingers. Clearly Madame had served Les Anglais before. I nodded. She opened a book, tore out the stamps, pressed the cash register, and helpfully turned it towards me so I could tell how much to pay.

Day 6: Morning Ride to Blois

2011-11-23T10:01:00.000-08:00

Having gone so far the day before we were again open minded about how far we would travel. We planned to head towards Chambord via Blois and St Dye sur Loire. We wanted to estimate how long our return journey to the station at Blois would take on Saturday morning. I wished to take Sylvia to a wonderful restaurant in St Dye sur Loire which I had visited earlier in the year, where I had eaten the brilliant beurre blanc sauce. This local speciality had first come to our notice years ago when we had been served it with freshly caught river fish in a restaurant near Fontevraud L‘Abbaye where Henry I of England was buried alongside Eleanor of Aquitaine and their son Richard Coeur de Lion.

After a light breakfast we went straight down the main road towards Blois. We zipped downhill with the wind blowing through our hair and traffic flashing by perhaps a little too close for comfort. We were surprised to find out how close we had cycled to our gite on our day of arrival before we had veered off into the forest, got lost and spent a long time finding our way out. laughed at our mistake as we sped on to a bridge where we crossed the road to join a cycleway which ran next to the roadway, and came to a small bridge. Traffic queued to cross it over a single lane, but a separate bridge to the side meant we had no delay, except to watch the workmen inching an iron girder into position using a mobile crane operated with a remote control device. We retraced our off road route to Blois which we had travelled down upon our arrival and soon arrived at the bridge which we needed to cross. The view was spectacular.

Return to La Haye

2011-11-20T12:46:00.000-08:00

At first we pedalled with an intensity borne of the concern at the distance we still had to travel. The following day we would see a road sign from Chailles to Montrichard: 28 kilometres. We went quite a lot further than this since we followed a much more circuitous route. The first few kilometres were uphill and we had to work very hard to climb out of Montrichard. When we turned off to Pontlevoy we lingered for a while outside the picturesque L‘ Abbaye – which had been converted into a school.

We then moved swiftly eastwards across country towards Thenay and then on to Fougeres, taking the cross country route we had missed earlier in the day. It was very quiet and we saw this lovely secluded farmstead. When we made it back to our gite Veronique cut us a lettuce to accompany our meal of cooked meats and cheese. We dismounted wearily but with many great memories of our wonderful journey which was much further than we would have thought we could comfortably manage. We slept soundly that evening.

Montrichard

2011-11-19T09:12:00.000-08:00

As we approached Montrichard the path down the side of the Cher threatened to disappear but we kept on and it emerged into a road along the side of the river. From here we caught sight of the Chateau, a fortress like structure built on a small hill, raised up so it overlooked the Cher. Occupants in the past would have been able to observe river traffic and any would be assailants from this elevated position.

We rode into the town, stopped for well earned refreshment in a lovely setting in the main square, pictured above. We relaxed and looked a little anxiously at the clock. It was 3.45 and our half way point only just reached. We decided to take the direct route towards La Haye, cycling up the main road towards Blois until we reached Pontlevoy. We would then turned east towards Thenay to pick up the route we had traversed earlier that day.

On to Montrichard

2011-11-17T14:00:00.000-08:00

The road towards Borré was downhill and we coasted down without a thought for the return back up out of the valley towards Blois. We had a sense of freedom that only such a descent provides. When we hit the Cher we turned towards Montrichard and soon noticed an archway underneath the railway which ran parallel to the river between it and the road down which we cycled. The archway was underused, the path grassed over showing no trace of traffic having passed through. Nevertheless we ducked through and we were rewarded with a wonderful sight, a path suited to cycles which followed the river. Nirvana. The breadth of the Cher and the unexpectedness of meeting it was emotional. What joy! N ature never fails to inspire you.

We saw these troglodyte dwellings in the hillside before emerging at the bridge which was the confluence of the Cher and the Loire - Stunning.

The Day of the Triffids and Lunch at Thenay

2011-11-14T04:13:00.000-08:00

Shortly after being spooked by the game bird we turned hard left towards Montrichard and came across this chilling sight. John Wyndham could well have had similar inspiration for his Triffids and we were quite relieved that the sinister figures in military formation were transfixed and incapable of pursuing us. We would have pedalled like never before if they had started to move.

Soon we came to Thenay, and almost straight away came across an archway by the church which seemed to beckon us through it. We were not disappointed as once through we were in the church square and in front of us was a Relais offering good value lunches. A group of a dozen French cyclists had beaten us to it and were tucking in to their first courses, which gave us the confidence to lock up the bikes and ask for a table to be brought outside in the shade. There was a buffet for Starter or Main course, Sylvia chose the latter. I had the Plat du Jour Formule 1 which was Chicken with Lemon Olives and Cous Cous. The Entrées were an interesting mix of rillette, frappé of carrots and other charcuterie. The meal was homely and sustaining and just what we needed to stoke us up for the journey ahead. We washed it down with a demi carafe of the house red. We were at one with the world. From the wall behind Syl three of the fab four looked down over our table from a rather careworn poster. Poor George had been ripped off. We took our time as artisan drivers on their lunch break came and went. We dallied over the coffee before stirring ourselves to move on towards Montrichard, which now looked within our range as it was not too far away, and as it turned out, most of the next part of the journey was downhill.

If you are wondering why the Relais looks closed in the middle picture it was - I took the photo on the way back.

Grapes of the Loire

2011-11-12T12:49:00.000-08:00

It was too early for lunch so we cycled on towards Thenay, and, finding the cycleway across country we headed off on a route which took us across fields where more and more grape vines were to be seen. It was a highlight of the day since our cycling nearer Blois had left us wondering if we in a wine growing region at all. As we rode down little used narrow roads we met no traffic whatsoever, and in the regimentally organized fields machines were patrolling the vines and stripping them of their crop. The rows denuded of their fruit contrasted to their previous overladen voluptuous condition. So much so that this demanded a photoshoot. Not to mention a sampling of the produce. As we cycled on my sense of relaxation was so great that I became lost in thought and thoroughly at ease. Amy dreamy state was interrupted by a green plumed game bird squawking within inches of the path and flying off into the field. Who was more startled?

Also on the picture of the stripped vines you will see collars of plastic cut from bottles which were clearly put there on young plants to protect them while in their infancy. I think these were planted to replace original vines which have fallen by the wayside. I found this particularly interesting since I employ the same method to protect young seedlings on my allotment.

Fougēres sur Beuvre

2011-11-11T14:54:00.000-08:00

The plan today was to head towards Montrichard, which Veronique pronounced with a hard “t”. We did not expect to reach it but it was the general direction we headed towards, thinking it would be nice to see the Cher, another tributary of the Loire. We put another late awakening down to the quiet of the countryside. Not even a cock crowed to disrupt the stillness. The contrast was stark to our normal wakening to street noise. Wary of banking on breakfast en route we had a quick coffee and enough to sustain us and set off for Seur by 10.30. We sailed on through Chitenay which where we had stopped the day before, and on to Fougēres sur Beuvre on minor roads, We spotted a waymarked cycleway which we had somehow missed, but which rejoined the road just before we hit the village. The area in front of the church was stunning. It was pristine, looking well cared for, fresh and clean. This was probably the most beautiful village we had seen so far – breathtaking in its simplicity and purity. We lingered without need of refreshment, enjoying the calming influence of the building’s beauty. The church’s imposing exterior belied its internal dsimplicity. It had originally housed few stained glass windows m and now breakages had left fewer still.

Chateau Trussay and Afternoon Refreshment

2011-11-09T09:35:00.000-08:00

After our wonderful meal and a rest we felt in good form and decided to follow a cross country cycle way rather than returning more directly. Typically these way marked routes crisscrossed fairly minor roads by taking off road tracks and even more minor roads. This added to the distance travelled but took us to places impossible to reach by car and unlikely spots where walkers would venture. This added to the beauty of the experience since it had some exclusivity and tranquillity, although of course we occasionally came across other cyclists following the route. Eventually we arrived at the Chateau Trussay, which was enchanting. Its two unique towers were interesting and enigmatic. In contrast with some of the larger and brasher Chateaux, Trussay seemed to be hiding away modestly behind trees, and could only be seen from close up. The approach was also quite modest. The original front drive was roped off and a track led down the side to enter the Chateau grounds through an outbuilding which served as Ticket Office and Souvenir Shop.

It was very hot, especially for late September and we were starting to wilt. As we cycled on through Cormery decided we needed a drink, and in the next village before Seur we stopped for late afternoon refreshment at a well appointed hotel. The Citron Pressé and Biere were very welcome and the ambience of the room was memorable - one side of the room was fully mirrored. We then remounted our bikes, found the road to Seur, went northwards through the forest by the now familiar track, which soon emerged at La Haye. The polytunnels of Veronique’s farm could be seen through the trees before we came out into the early evening sunshine, which was now much more subdued than it had been earlier.

In Search of a Place to Eat on a Monday

2011-11-08T09:44:00.000-08:00

On Day 2 we pinned our hopes on petit déjeuner at Beauregard, just having Grapefruit and Peaches at the Gite.The latter were a present from Veronique. But when we reached the Chateau we found it was pretty much all there was there. After a ride through the forest, cooled by the enveloping canopy above, we cycled on without breakfast. At Cellette we turned towards Cherverny and rode down virtually deserted country lanes bounded by fields. We passed by isolated farms and through small hamlets. We sampled an apple which was hard skinned but had succulent flesh which was refreshing and tasty.

When we reached Cours Cheverny we were very hungry and ready for an early lunch. It was not long after twelve and the first two restaurants had ‘Fermé’ on the door. It was Monday, after all. Most of the places we had passed through had not even had one bar, let alone two restaurants so the portents were not great. Undeterred we came across a Pizzeria which looked good but did not match up to our expectations. Undeterred we rode on through the village. Our perseverance was rewarded when we came across an open restaurant attached to the Hotel St Hubert. We could see staff dining before beginning to serve customers. We locked up our bikes and settled down outside for an aperitif, and studied the various enticing dishes displayed on the menu. We shared a Fish Terrine with Spinach and Tartare Sauce and Gizzard with salad leaves and tomato. For Mains we both chose Haddock which was served on an Asparagus Mousse and potato accompaniment. With Panna Cotta and Raspberry Sauce to follow we were in heaven.

Round the back of the church we found a garden area (pictured above) where we relaxed and let our wonderful lunch settle.

Chaumont sur Loire via Cande sur Beuvron

2011-11-06T13:59:00.000-08:00

It was strange cycling without the panniers, we felt freed and unencumbered as we cycled off on our first day out. We planned to cycle to the famous Chateau at Chaumont sur Loire via Seur and Candé sur Beuvron. The sun shone as we sped southwards along minor roads. The bridge at Seur took us over the Beuvre and we then tracked this small river towards Candé although mostly it was obscured by trees. Candé was at a picturesque crossroads, and we dallied to take in the beauty of the setting. An old disused bridge spanned the Beuvron next to today’s road bridge and offered a safe stroll across away from the busy road. On the opposite bank there was a lovely little bar where we had a welcome drink and bought a copy of L'Equipe before moving on. The flash floods up the Loire reached this far and caused the area to become waterloggged. Overlooking the Beuvron on the side of the hill was the church, which was rebuilt there because of the flooding at the lower level. No such luck for the villagers, their riverside houses would have been vulnerable and their meagre possesssions ruined.

From Candé we followed the Beuvron towards its confluence with the Loire. The off-road cycle path (pictured above) was idyllic, the silence along the riverbank only disturbed by the cries of the birds and the occasional "Bonjour" from fellow cyclists. After a short while we were joined by the magnificent Loire whose width always takes you aback. We accompanied it to the Onzain Bridge and beyond, and there in front of us the chateau of Chaumont nestled into the river side. Houses lined the roadside below, where we searched for a shop to buy a picnic lunch. The only place open provided us with a very modest meal of baguette and tomates, the latter two huge beefy types. We sat by the river on a shaded bench to eat and were enthralled by the everyday activites of passing boats and people enjoying the day doing very little, just like us.

Blois

2011-11-04T14:24:00.000-07:00

Blois is a beautiful city and small enough to stroll around. So when we emerged from the station we cycled through it. We headed for the Chateau which, like the station, is in a raised position back from the river. The Tourist Information was located near the Chateau. I was hoping to find a map of Cycle routes through the Loire Valley which I had seen on the internet. Sure enough they had one and it proved to be very useful during our stay. By combining the waymarked cycle ways on this Cycle Map with my detailed Michelin map we managed to avoid travelling on any major roads. Many of our routes were actually off road, like the one which was parallel to the road and the river which took us towards our gite in La Haye, a tiny hamlet about 10 kilometres from Blois.

Having visited the Chateau we pushed our fully laden cycles round a pedestrianised cobbled area in the centre of Blois where we bought our lunch at a Boulanger. Once across the river we sat on a bench to eat it. We looked out across the vast expanse of the Loire and facing us was stunning view which is pictured above,

Unfortunately when we reached Chailles, which was very close to our destination, we used our new map and cycled off into the forest. This was a big mistake. Unknowingly we were to cycle quite a distance out of our way. We were like Hansel and Gretel, as we went deeper into the forest it sucked us in. Soon we had little idea of where we were and lost our sense of direction. Entering a clearing where about five paths converged, we came across a house and outside it a woman was taking in the sun and reading the newspaper. Fortunately her house was not made of sweets. Despite living there, she seemed to be as confused as we were, so when a couple arrived en route to Beauregard Chateau we readily accepted their directions. Certainly the path they led us up was in the general direction of where we wanted to be. We still had a few more difficult conversations with local people before we emerged unexpectedly from the forest in totally the wrong direction to find ourselves looking at a sign which said La Haye.

We still had a fractious few minutes following the directions to the gite. At first it appeared that it might not exist, but when we cycled to the end of the lane bounded by crops like lettuces, tomatoes and celery the directions made sense. Our cottage was clearly in a small group of buildings further on from a farm where we were instructed to pick up the keys. Two massive dogs threw themselves at the iron gates which barred the farmyard and leapt up the wall to look threateningly out over the top. Veronique and family arrived in a car and welcomed us. We were very tired by the circuitous journey but finally we had arrived.

The Kindly Ticket Inspector

2011-11-03T15:37:00.000-07:00

We arrived at the Gare d’Austerlitz two hours early owing to my schedule building in a large margin for error in travel times. We quickly ascertained from the Departure Board that a train was to leave for Blois in under twenty minutes. The ticket office was easy enough to find but the queue was miles long. With ever decreasing minutes to play with we had no time to wait to speak to someone. We headed for the train and hoped for the best. What appeared to be the guard was standing at a lectern shaped podium at the head of the platform. He was busy, locked into an argument with a hopeful traveller who appeared to be trying to board with train with a ticket which was a few months out of date. Another employee of SNCF arrived and, after shoving his oar in, he turned to us and asked us what we wanted. Getting no encouragement to “parlez vous Anglais”, I pitched in with my faltering French. Could we board the train early with our ticket? At first he looked very positive, until he studied the tickets in more detail, peering at them as if this might extract more information. His expression turned from quizzical to perplexed and then he turned to me and pointed towards the part of the ticket which stipulated that we had to travel on the specified time. With a suitably grave expression I shook my head and we acted out an unspeaking charade. The end of his index finger connected with 13.33 and he looked at me and gabbled in French which I assumed translated as “No chance, you’re booked onto this later train and its non transferable”. His hopeless expression said it all. I studied the ticket and shook my head with the same gravitas I had exhibited earlier, and hoped for the best. Next minute he seemed to snap, whipped out a pen, and wrote across the ticket what I later realised was “autorisé” – authorised - followed by a scrawled signature. He then thrust the tickets into my hand and waved us forward onto the train. With great relief we wheeled our bikes down the platform, boarded the train, and took our seats. Shortly after, the train pulled out, with passengers running to catch it, presumably delayed by the queue at the ticket office. When the tickets came to be inspected it was by the kindly monsieur who had endorsed the tickets for us. This caused us to arrive at Blois two hours earlier than we might have otherwise.

Cycling across Paris to Gare d'Austerlitz

2011-11-02T16:23:00.000-07:00

Outside the station we found it difficult to find the right road. A passing young Frenchman did not know the Rue San Quentin either. It’s a pity Johnny Cash was not around. As we turned back to search the helpful guide came rushing back, having realised which road it was. Such helpfulness was typical, the locals responded very favourably to two “middle aged” cyclists obviously far from home. Once on the route all we had to do was follow it, and keep our wits about us to avoid the hurly burly of traffic, cyclists, and pedestrians, all of whom stood out as quite different to us. They knew what they were doing. We traversed one way streets where moped drivers wove in and out of the cars while we kept a careful distance. We cycled down main boulevards on parallel cycle ways, and sometimes had to brave traffic, moving out what seemed miles into a vulnerable area to avoid parked delivery vehicles.

Still, we made it safely and saw some beautiful views on the way. As we crossed Pont d’Austerlitz we had a clear sight upriver of the Notre Dame, and the Seine was majestic. Then we crossed over to the left and there was the Gare d’Austerlitz. Sanctuary.

Early Rise and on to Paris

2011-10-31T15:03:00.000-07:00

Lille was quite uneventful, really, even arriving two hours earlier we only just had enough time for a quick repast at a nearby bar, before returning to our nearby hotel. Moules Frites for me and Omelette for Sylvia, and very nice too. The area around the stations was a bit seedy at night and no sign of Joe Cole, although with the eurostar connection doubtless he commutes. Good luck to him with food like that readily available.

Lille Flandres, the local station was where arrived. The following morning we left early from the Ibis, where the staff had been very welcoming and helpful. We cycled the short distance down a boulevard to the other railway station, Lille Europe arriving early in the morning shortly after 8am. We had breakfast while we waited to board the train to Paris. The Eurostar and intercity trains come through this international railway station which seems to be very modern, predominantly glass structured, and which had everything Calais Ville did not. Namely a lift.

The Pain aux Raisins and Café au Lait went down well and we waited for the departure board to reveal the platform number 15 minutes before the train left for the Gare du Nord, Paris. When we received the call we fought our way into the vast glass lift and once descended to the platform shrugged off the now customary “Non” from the conductor to our cycles by brandishing our tickets. A cursory look and he waved a general arm towards the rear of the train where we found a place to store the bikes for the journey, which was comfortable and uneventful. It was lovely looking out upon the landscape which had much in common with the Low Countries both in its appearance and the names of places the train sped through.

Arriving at the Gare du Nord we made our way to the exit to find our way on to the cycle route to the Gare d’ Austerlitz, four miles or so through Paris. Although I knew it was a recommended way to cycle as I had searched for it on the internet, we did not know what to expect. Was it designated cycle ways or just relatively quiet roads? Neither could reasonably be expected in any major city.

Cinq minutes can be a long time

2011-10-30T10:47:00.000-07:00

The train I had booked from Calais Ville had built in a lot of travelling time to make certain we were not rushing. I showed our tickets to the lady in the ticket office and asked if we could board an earlier train. “It leaves in five minutes from platform 2” she said, in French. I failed to grasp the meaning or the urgency and repeated “Avec les velos?” “Oui, Oui, cinq minutes” she said, with an exasperated huff and a fluttering of hers arms. At the end of the flourish five fingers were held up to the glass to emphasize the point.

We sped off towards the platform and were confronted by a wall of passengers marching abreast up the narrow stairway. I gave a token lateral sweep of my head to look for lift, but when I looked forward Sylvia had not broken stride. My frantic cries of “wait there while I carry your bike” were lost in the mayhem as she launched herself into the oncoming throng. There were three stages of steps and Sylvia lost control of the bike on the first one, after only a couple of steps. She looked like she was trying to control a bucking bronco, as she seemed to ride it downhill, lurching all over the place. The crowd parted like the Red Sea and offered no aid as she lunged this way and that trying to control the bestial bike. Somehow she managed to subdue the brute, to the astonishment of the onlookers. Braving stages two and three she warmed to the task and masterfully swept downward, reaching the bottom with a semblance of control which had not seemed possible moments earlier.

“Lille monsieur, avec les velos” I blurted out. “Non“, said the stationmaster with a firm conviction. My urgent expression frantically searching for the words quickly changed his mind. Out came an impatient “Avant, Avant“, with a sweep of the hand towards the front of the train. We rushed to the foremost carriage, found no dedicated area but struggled up the steps with the loaded bikes. Five steps were child’s play. We installed ourselves into the welcome security of an area between steps between the two tiered carriage and relaxed in this wholly unsuitable location for the whole journey.

The lady ticket inspector, with the typically jaunty grey cap tilted upward to her left, smiled sweetly, and as if wishing to avoid discovering our lack of an appropriate ticket, moved swiftly on. Not once, but twice. She couldn’t have seen our dramatic arrival onto the platform, could she?

Across La Manche

2011-10-30T00:09:00.000-07:00

Travelling by train with your bikes gives you a sense of independence, freedom and adventure. Having a base takes away the pain of always having to find a roof for the night. Our base was a beautiful gîte in the quiet rural hamlet of La Haye, south west of Blois. We chose to visit during late September since the autumnal weather is generally still hot this far south but not unbearable as it can be in the peak of summer. The Loire is quite flat so is perfect for our kind of cycling.

Sorting out the travel arrangements wasn’t easy. Eurostar to Paris was the most obvious and most direct and glamorous way of doing it. But it was too difficult to book and too expensive taking your own bikes. We seemed to be paying the price in money and inconvenience for what should be a relatively simple journey. We opted for a slightly more tortuous but less costly and interesting journey. We stayed overnight in Lille instead of Paris.

We went under the channel by eurotunnel which cost £32 return each, including bikes. Norman picked us up in Folkestone and drove us in a minibus with bikes secured on a trailer. The Eurotunnnel was deserted at this time of week and year and we virtually drove straight onto the train. For just over half an hour we were treated to Norman’s wisdom. The journey disappeared in a fug of explanations of journeys around Calais from the two stations, although when we arrived he kindly dropped us off at the Gare de Calais Ville to board the train to Lille. That is Norman in the picture, preparing to unload the bikes just round the corner from the station.