It's now 27th Oct we've been led astray but will bring this up to date in the next 24 hours!!
FRIDAY 21st October. Arles
We had a bit of a day off to look around the town, and as breakfast didn’t end until 10.30 we made the most of it and got down just in time! Our first mission was to the station to book tickets first to Orange for our 4 day stay with the Wells’ and then for our return trip home via central Paris. This we achieved without too much difficulty so it was then time to explore some local culture. Vincent Van Gogh had lived and worked here for a couple of years, and the tourist board - to make up for their lack of any of his work in a museum or anywhere - has cleverly created a walk around the places where the local scenes were painted from. Sadly in most cases the building or bridge in the picture no longer resembled Van Gogh’s version but with a bit of imagination one could get the ‘Impression’ .
We stopped in the delightful Place Paul Doumer, for refreshment in between Van Gogh ‘sites’ and then regretted this as it was too early to have lunch. As we continued we found that everywhere else was very touristy, and not wishing to retrace our steps, ended up having a less than mediocre lunch just off the main square.
Having exhausted the Van Gogh trail apart from a couple too far out of town to walk to, we set about the Roman amphitheatre. This is a 10,000 seater lozenge shaped mini coliseum (also painted by V-G) and having been made a Unesco World Heritage site recently, is in the process of massive renovation works. Consequently you can’t see much; however, the work done so far by the craftsmen looks excellent if perhaps a little ‘new’. However, probably in another 50 years it will all have blended in.
The circus was in town and unlike some you pass, their living area was immaculate with caravans with washing machines, large pizza ovens and all sorts of mod cons. The ponies seemed very happy too.
By 4pm it was starting to become pretty chilly so being saturated with culture we returned to the hotel for a cup of tea and a lie down – there is something about walking in a town sightseeing that is infinitely more exhausting than spending 5 hours in the saddle and cycling 30 miles or so. Both are equally pleasurable of course! We had supper in a club called The Blue Note who specialized in chilli with everything, where old blues records were played and we felt pretty cool despite being at least 30 years older than everyone else in there!
Saturday 22nd
As trains are easily missed and carriages which carry bicycles are few and far between we were up with the lark this morning and down to the station only to find that we didn’t get the anticipated puncture or diversion, so had a 40 minute wait. Nevertheless it was a relief to be there and to know we would not miss the train to Orange. There had been a minor snag when the hotel’s card reader refused to accept any of our cards but a sprint to the ‘hole in the wall’ soon put that right. My other mistake was engaging an American couple in conversation, the husband was keen to tell me about all of his cycling expeditions from Budapest to Prague and down the Danube and how he lives in California just a half mile from the Canada to Mexico cycle route. Before I knew it we had their card and a warm invitation to stay if we ever thought of doing the ride (might just be a pedal too far).
In Orange we were lucky enough to find a ‘Specialised’ bike shop and replenish our stock of inner tubes. We biked east along a wonderfully flat Roman road to the village of Camaret sur Aigues
where we stopped in a bit of a scary local bar for a cup of coffee. It was full of rather rough fellows who looked as if they spent all their time in there, and the only ‘convenience’ was a hole in the ground.
Anthony and Julia were now en route from Marseilles and met us on the road to collect our bags, so we had the luxury of the last few miles into Sablet without extra weight. In a curious way not having our panniers took us out of the world of ‘travellers’ and made us look like ‘day trippers’ and we almost wished we still had our baggage. On arrival at the house the Wells had found the bottle of ‘estate red’ Piaugier left by our hostess and had it open for our arrival. Combined with the picnic lunch we had bought this was a very good start to our 4 day sojourn. As it happened, the village is perfectly situated on the edge of the Dentelle hills, not half way up them as we thought it might have been. Julia had booked an old village house in a vineyard and we now have a few days being able to explore the region from a base. For the first time in a month, we unpacked our things. We will probably now forget the ones hanging up in the cupboards, as we are not used to being so domesticated.
We explored the old town on foot and collected some bikes for the Wells to use. Sablet is perched on the side of the hill so everywhere is ‘up’ and we became quite fit finding our way around the local bakeries and other shops over the next few days. It was too late to have much of an expedition but we had a lovely walk to the neighbouring hillside village of Seguret. There was not a soul around but it was most attractive and all the buildings were in immaculate condition. We found the village oven built into a wall which the community uses at Christmas and think they must all contribute to the general upkeep of the area. (sadly no photos as we had all forgotten our cameras).
Supper was in the local bistro in the village square and the only thing really in it’s favour was that it was within a few minute’s walking distance. However, after everyone’s early start, it was just fine.
Sunday 23rd
We had to be fairly organized today because none of the shops stay open very long on a Sunday and the restaurants don’t open at all. Buying dinner was therefore of the essence. The local butcher came up trumps with a dead chicken complete with head, feet and innards – Vivi declined all three and the bird was duly put into a state more recognizable as a fowl for the table. We then set off following the recommended route to Vaison la Romaine via the ‘magic’ stones at Olonne
We had a picnic on the river bank and watched grey wagtails, dippers and kingfishers working their way up and down the banks. On the way out of town we stopped in the very unique church which is yet another favourite of Pellerins complete with cloisters and St Jacques shells. By the time we were home we had done 22 miles and were all quite tired and getting cold. Annoyingly neither Wells complained at all about stiffness or exhaustion (they really must be very fit) and it had been the loveliest day. The roast chicken was inspired and it was a treat for us not to have to eat out.
Monday 24th
Today we packed another picnic and set forth toward Gigondas where a very helpful lady in the tourist office pointed us in the right direction for the Dentelles. If you saw them you would hardly think this would be necessary because the Dentelles can be seen from 50 miles sticking up on the horizon like a set of very ragged, chipped teeth.
In the village it is important to know which road out to take to go up them as there are plenty of choices. We cycled as far as you can go or until the path became rather too rough, stopped and took photos of ourselves to remind us of our achievement. On the way back we had a quick look at the chapel half way down the hill but could find out little about it.
After that we wanted to ride on to Beaume de Venise but a headwind had sprung up and it seemed prudent not to try anything too challenging. So we headed on to Vacqueyras and stopped for refreshment and watched the wind becoming stronger. Eager not to leave the comfort of the bar we asked “if we buy a pichet of rose, may we eat our picnic at one of their outside tables”. "Of course" said the barman, but “why eat outside, have your picnic in here” – sometimes human kindness can really get to you!
Parts of the ride home were really horrid with the wind gusting ferociously and the distance appearing to double.
We hadn’t realised quite what a find the Maison de Piaugier was when we arrived. It is surrounded by the vineyard Domaine de Piaugier which is quite well known. We booked in for a wine tour which was fascinating and great fun. Sophie and Jean-Marc Autran have taken 25 years building up their business of 35 hectares in Sablet, and they are quite experimental and innovative in their approach to the blends and styles of wines. We learned an enormous amount and much enjoyed tasting some of them.
Tasted the lot!!
Part of the reason for going to Gigondas earlier in the day was to do a recce for dinner tonight. The region’s wine is renowned, especially with lamb and we were eager to try both. Julia elected to drive, or perhaps ‘was elected’ so off we set full of enthusiasm. But of course it was Monday and although we had been assured that there would be no shortage of restaurants to eat at, everything was very firmly closed. We found a restaurant with a light on but the owner rushed out to tell us he was closed too. So off we went in the direction of anywhere with lights showing. After some time we ended up back in Vaison la Romaine, and piled into a little restaurant overlooking the roman bridge and ramparts. We were a little apprehensive to start off with as we noticed the kitchen was on the other side of the road and the couple running it were rushing back and forth with plates. However, they were very welcoming, the food delicious and the only thing we failed on, was the Gigondas wine. We will have to try again tomorrow. They speak a very local dialect here and at times it is difficult to understand. However, they call soup ‘soupe’ (so that was easy) and Julia and I had a rather good ‘cake’ entree which was a slice of cake made with polenta, eggs, cheese and basil and a tomato sauce on top; very good too. On our way out, they took us into their kitchen to tell us all about it. They were full of enthusiasm and they work from midday to 10 pm, 7/7 and have been running it for the last 12 years. I felt very slothful in comparison.
Tuesday 25th October.
We had all been kept awake by the wind which was really whistling around the house, so we didn’t think it was much of a day for bicycling as it was also raining. Sophie, who owned the winery, kept telling us that this was not windy but we weren’t entirely convinced so decided it would be a good time, since we hadn’t made it yesterday, to explore the delights of Beaumes de Venise by car. Anthony had leapt out of bed to do the early morning bakery run each day and had made lots of friends in the village, and he always returned with croissants and various different baguettes and goodies to start the day with.
Eventually we were all ready to leave and off we went following a complicated route via the ‘virtual roundabout’ and Violes before arriving in Beaumes. This was market day so the town was fairly busy but since we arrived in time to see the marketeers packing up there were plenty of places to park. We nearly bought another chicken – it being all that was left on the stall when we spotted a butcher who surely must have something more appetizing. We had settled on duck breasts – (but then realised that we were being offered legs which would have taken rather longer to cook) and veal escallops. So the veal won and we went in search of shallots, beans, crème fraiche, onions and anything else our very own ‘Cordon Bleu’ insisted she couldn’t cook dinner without. All quite simple in France (and/or Waitrose). After that Julia needed to get into a church (short lived experience) we all needed to try some Beaume de Venise which took us deep into the village in search of a bar. We didn’t find a bar but we did find the ‘alfresco theatre’; only when we walked up the indicated stairway there was nothing to be found except the remains of ancient walls and ramparts and some caves which must have previously contained some troglodytes.
It took us 20 minutes to regroup back outside the original church. So we tried a different direction and this time found a bar with chilled B de V and it was the nectar I’ve always thought it was.
3 Glasses of BdeV
After much discussion about where to have lunch we finally decided that there was enough to eat and drink in our fridge so returned home for a feast picnic in the garden as by now the sky had cleared and the wind had almost dropped. Afterwards we decided to work off some of our baguette and cornichons and headed out on the bikes for a scenic route to Violes. We had been told that there is a disused railway line now converted to a bike route but couldn’t find it anywhere. However after a few false starts amongst vines and along rather-too-busy roads we made it to Violes. That’s where Anthony discovered he had lost his phone. So we all split up. Alec and I then chanced upon the disused train line which is charming and flat and felt very bad that A and J had to retrace their steps along the roads.
On the route we passed a closed up tunnel now used for temperature controlled wine storage.
Disused tunnel now a wine cellar
Anyway all was well, the phone was still lying on a track and we re-grouped and pedalled a little further out the other side of the village before calling it a day.
Sablet from the East.
It is a good region to explore by bike as there is a good mix of countryside, vines and hills, none too testing, and lots of pretty towns.
Our last supper was washed down with a couple of the Piaugier’s ‘Briguieres 2007’ bottles of Cote de Rhone and we were feeling pretty mellow by now. Well - fairly because at 7.15am tomorrow a taxi will arrive to take us and our bikes to Orange station from where we begin a one day marathon trek from the south to the north of France.
Wednesday 26th The day it all ends.
Despite my scepticism the taxi did arrive at 7.15 and happily loaded the bikes into the back and off we set for Orange – in the pitch dark, so thank heavens we didn’t think we could bike it!
At the station the train arrived on time and had a special compartment for bikes so we slid into our reserved seats (the French are very good at this) and away we went to Paris. The downside to this was that the buffet was closed and was not going to open and we had specially not had breakfast as we had thought to eat on the train would help pass the two and a half hour journey!
At the Gare de Lyon the Tourist Office provided us with a ‘bike route map of Paris’ and we settled into a coffee and chocolate chip cookie to make up for no breakfast – it couldn’t possibly take more than 30 minutes to cycle from the Gare de Lyon to the Gare St Lazaire.
It was an interesting and exhilarating ride, we thought we were going pretty fast but kept being overtaken by Parisien business ladies and gents, ciggy in one hand, mobile phone in the other looking totally relaxed, hammering along and weaving through the traffic – have they no sense of self preservation? After what felt like no time at all Vivi called out – we’ve only ten minutes until the train leaves. No problem - the station was just around the corner, so on we ploughed. However at the station there was reconstruction work and no lift to take us from the ground floor to the level where the trains are. Whoops! Had we known we could have gone up a side street which takes you to the next level, but we didn’t know that! So we scrambled the bikes onto the moving staircase and up we ascended only to find the train no longer advertised on the departure board and all our hopes of getting to Le Havre dashed.
1train later, we eventually arrived at the harbour dead on when the boat should leave, it was still there and didn’t go until 35 minutes later but it was no good, they were simply not going to let us on! We were not too happy about this, but it was entirely self-inflicted, - we should have starved till we arrived at Gare st Lazare.
Poor old Le Havre was flattened in the war and is not now the most attractive looking place as the town was entirely rebuilt and concrete was the main material for construction.
Picture of Le Havre’s concrete cathedral.
We decided to take a positive view of the unscheduled extra day in France and booked into a little central hotel and were really quite relieved to stop, as it had been a pretty full on day.
Thursday 27th October.
Le Havre - Home
The ferries only leave once a day and that is in the evening, so we had all day to ahead of us and were very relaxed. The Tourist office had given us some good maps for a walking tour of the town but it was raining and cold so we went to the Musee Malraux instead. This was great as it has the 2nd largest collection of Impressionist paintings, after Paris. A great many famous artists lived and painted there, because of the very clear light. The museum building is not unlike the Tate in Cornwall, large, airy and very modern and the paintings are very well hung so we had a happy couple of hours looking at an enormous collection of Pissaro, Boudin, and Monet amongst many, mixed with some rather good contemporary artists, sculptors and photographers.
The weather had cleared so we admired the Queen Elizabeth who was docked there; she is really enormous and quite dwarfed the container ships and other boats.
Monet’s view (with the QE2 in the background) whereas Monet had just sea and sky!
Fortunately the allies had managed to avoid the Notre Dame church in the centre which was rather beautiful. We were having a look at some of the stained glass windows, being extra quiet as there was a man praying beside us, when he let out a real trumpet of a fart! We were a little taken aback and it quite ruined any beautiful thoughts we might have been having.
Our last lunch, (and only the 2nd one eaten inside in 30 days) was Prawns and Langoustine; excellent.
We were so worried about missing the ferry again, we checked in nearly 2 hours early!
Vivi kept peering out of the restaurant window to check that the boat was still there.
Well, that’s the end of just 30 days of cycling down the Saône and the Rhone – just short of 600 miles in all. Looking back we cannot remember the beginning, but at the same time it is over in a flash. Every moment has been the greatest fun. We have immersed ourselves in Rhone culture, food, wine, the countryside and loved it all.
FRIDAY 21st October. Arles
We had a bit of a day off to look around the town, and as breakfast didn’t end until 10.30 we made the most of it and got down just in time! Our first mission was to the station to book tickets first to Orange for our 4 day stay with the Wells’ and then for our return trip home via central Paris. This we achieved without too much difficulty so it was then time to explore some local culture. Vincent Van Gogh had lived and worked here for a couple of years, and the tourist board - to make up for their lack of any of his work in a museum or anywhere - has cleverly created a walk around the places where the local scenes were painted from. Sadly in most cases the building or bridge in the picture no longer resembled Van Gogh’s version but with a bit of imagination one could get the ‘Impression’ .
We stopped in the delightful Place Paul Doumer, for refreshment in between Van Gogh ‘sites’ and then regretted this as it was too early to have lunch. As we continued we found that everywhere else was very touristy, and not wishing to retrace our steps, ended up having a less than mediocre lunch just off the main square.
Having exhausted the Van Gogh trail apart from a couple too far out of town to walk to, we set about the Roman amphitheatre. This is a 10,000 seater lozenge shaped mini coliseum (also painted by V-G) and having been made a Unesco World Heritage site recently, is in the process of massive renovation works. Consequently you can’t see much; however, the work done so far by the craftsmen looks excellent if perhaps a little ‘new’. However, probably in another 50 years it will all have blended in.
The circus was in town and unlike some you pass, their living area was immaculate with caravans with washing machines, large pizza ovens and all sorts of mod cons. The ponies seemed very happy too.
By 4pm it was starting to become pretty chilly so being saturated with culture we returned to the hotel for a cup of tea and a lie down – there is something about walking in a town sightseeing that is infinitely more exhausting than spending 5 hours in the saddle and cycling 30 miles or so. Both are equally pleasurable of course! We had supper in a club called The Blue Note who specialized in chilli with everything, where old blues records were played and we felt pretty cool despite being at least 30 years older than everyone else in there!
Saturday 22nd
As trains are easily missed and carriages which carry bicycles are few and far between we were up with the lark this morning and down to the station only to find that we didn’t get the anticipated puncture or diversion, so had a 40 minute wait. Nevertheless it was a relief to be there and to know we would not miss the train to Orange. There had been a minor snag when the hotel’s card reader refused to accept any of our cards but a sprint to the ‘hole in the wall’ soon put that right. My other mistake was engaging an American couple in conversation, the husband was keen to tell me about all of his cycling expeditions from Budapest to Prague and down the Danube and how he lives in California just a half mile from the Canada to Mexico cycle route. Before I knew it we had their card and a warm invitation to stay if we ever thought of doing the ride (might just be a pedal too far).
In Orange we were lucky enough to find a ‘Specialised’ bike shop and replenish our stock of inner tubes. We biked east along a wonderfully flat Roman road to the village of Camaret sur Aigues
where we stopped in a bit of a scary local bar for a cup of coffee. It was full of rather rough fellows who looked as if they spent all their time in there, and the only ‘convenience’ was a hole in the ground.
Anthony and Julia were now en route from Marseilles and met us on the road to collect our bags, so we had the luxury of the last few miles into Sablet without extra weight. In a curious way not having our panniers took us out of the world of ‘travellers’ and made us look like ‘day trippers’ and we almost wished we still had our baggage. On arrival at the house the Wells had found the bottle of ‘estate red’ Piaugier left by our hostess and had it open for our arrival. Combined with the picnic lunch we had bought this was a very good start to our 4 day sojourn. As it happened, the village is perfectly situated on the edge of the Dentelle hills, not half way up them as we thought it might have been. Julia had booked an old village house in a vineyard and we now have a few days being able to explore the region from a base. For the first time in a month, we unpacked our things. We will probably now forget the ones hanging up in the cupboards, as we are not used to being so domesticated.
We explored the old town on foot and collected some bikes for the Wells to use. Sablet is perched on the side of the hill so everywhere is ‘up’ and we became quite fit finding our way around the local bakeries and other shops over the next few days. It was too late to have much of an expedition but we had a lovely walk to the neighbouring hillside village of Seguret. There was not a soul around but it was most attractive and all the buildings were in immaculate condition. We found the village oven built into a wall which the community uses at Christmas and think they must all contribute to the general upkeep of the area. (sadly no photos as we had all forgotten our cameras).
Supper was in the local bistro in the village square and the only thing really in it’s favour was that it was within a few minute’s walking distance. However, after everyone’s early start, it was just fine.
Sunday 23rd
We had to be fairly organized today because none of the shops stay open very long on a Sunday and the restaurants don’t open at all. Buying dinner was therefore of the essence. The local butcher came up trumps with a dead chicken complete with head, feet and innards – Vivi declined all three and the bird was duly put into a state more recognizable as a fowl for the table. We then set off following the recommended route to Vaison la Romaine via the ‘magic’ stones at Olonne
We had a picnic on the river bank and watched grey wagtails, dippers and kingfishers working their way up and down the banks. On the way out of town we stopped in the very unique church which is yet another favourite of Pellerins complete with cloisters and St Jacques shells. By the time we were home we had done 22 miles and were all quite tired and getting cold. Annoyingly neither Wells complained at all about stiffness or exhaustion (they really must be very fit) and it had been the loveliest day. The roast chicken was inspired and it was a treat for us not to have to eat out.
Monday 24th
Today we packed another picnic and set forth toward Gigondas where a very helpful lady in the tourist office pointed us in the right direction for the Dentelles. If you saw them you would hardly think this would be necessary because the Dentelles can be seen from 50 miles sticking up on the horizon like a set of very ragged, chipped teeth.
In the village it is important to know which road out to take to go up them as there are plenty of choices. We cycled as far as you can go or until the path became rather too rough, stopped and took photos of ourselves to remind us of our achievement. On the way back we had a quick look at the chapel half way down the hill but could find out little about it.
After that we wanted to ride on to Beaume de Venise but a headwind had sprung up and it seemed prudent not to try anything too challenging. So we headed on to Vacqueyras and stopped for refreshment and watched the wind becoming stronger. Eager not to leave the comfort of the bar we asked “if we buy a pichet of rose, may we eat our picnic at one of their outside tables”. "Of course" said the barman, but “why eat outside, have your picnic in here” – sometimes human kindness can really get to you!
Parts of the ride home were really horrid with the wind gusting ferociously and the distance appearing to double.
We hadn’t realised quite what a find the Maison de Piaugier was when we arrived. It is surrounded by the vineyard Domaine de Piaugier which is quite well known. We booked in for a wine tour which was fascinating and great fun. Sophie and Jean-Marc Autran have taken 25 years building up their business of 35 hectares in Sablet, and they are quite experimental and innovative in their approach to the blends and styles of wines. We learned an enormous amount and much enjoyed tasting some of them.
Tasted the lot!!
Part of the reason for going to Gigondas earlier in the day was to do a recce for dinner tonight. The region’s wine is renowned, especially with lamb and we were eager to try both. Julia elected to drive, or perhaps ‘was elected’ so off we set full of enthusiasm. But of course it was Monday and although we had been assured that there would be no shortage of restaurants to eat at, everything was very firmly closed. We found a restaurant with a light on but the owner rushed out to tell us he was closed too. So off we went in the direction of anywhere with lights showing. After some time we ended up back in Vaison la Romaine, and piled into a little restaurant overlooking the roman bridge and ramparts. We were a little apprehensive to start off with as we noticed the kitchen was on the other side of the road and the couple running it were rushing back and forth with plates. However, they were very welcoming, the food delicious and the only thing we failed on, was the Gigondas wine. We will have to try again tomorrow. They speak a very local dialect here and at times it is difficult to understand. However, they call soup ‘soupe’ (so that was easy) and Julia and I had a rather good ‘cake’ entree which was a slice of cake made with polenta, eggs, cheese and basil and a tomato sauce on top; very good too. On our way out, they took us into their kitchen to tell us all about it. They were full of enthusiasm and they work from midday to 10 pm, 7/7 and have been running it for the last 12 years. I felt very slothful in comparison.
Tuesday 25th October.
We had all been kept awake by the wind which was really whistling around the house, so we didn’t think it was much of a day for bicycling as it was also raining. Sophie, who owned the winery, kept telling us that this was not windy but we weren’t entirely convinced so decided it would be a good time, since we hadn’t made it yesterday, to explore the delights of Beaumes de Venise by car. Anthony had leapt out of bed to do the early morning bakery run each day and had made lots of friends in the village, and he always returned with croissants and various different baguettes and goodies to start the day with.
Eventually we were all ready to leave and off we went following a complicated route via the ‘virtual roundabout’ and Violes before arriving in Beaumes. This was market day so the town was fairly busy but since we arrived in time to see the marketeers packing up there were plenty of places to park. We nearly bought another chicken – it being all that was left on the stall when we spotted a butcher who surely must have something more appetizing. We had settled on duck breasts – (but then realised that we were being offered legs which would have taken rather longer to cook) and veal escallops. So the veal won and we went in search of shallots, beans, crème fraiche, onions and anything else our very own ‘Cordon Bleu’ insisted she couldn’t cook dinner without. All quite simple in France (and/or Waitrose). After that Julia needed to get into a church (short lived experience) we all needed to try some Beaume de Venise which took us deep into the village in search of a bar. We didn’t find a bar but we did find the ‘alfresco theatre’; only when we walked up the indicated stairway there was nothing to be found except the remains of ancient walls and ramparts and some caves which must have previously contained some troglodytes.
It took us 20 minutes to regroup back outside the original church. So we tried a different direction and this time found a bar with chilled B de V and it was the nectar I’ve always thought it was.
3 Glasses of BdeV
After much discussion about where to have lunch we finally decided that there was enough to eat and drink in our fridge so returned home for a feast picnic in the garden as by now the sky had cleared and the wind had almost dropped. Afterwards we decided to work off some of our baguette and cornichons and headed out on the bikes for a scenic route to Violes. We had been told that there is a disused railway line now converted to a bike route but couldn’t find it anywhere. However after a few false starts amongst vines and along rather-too-busy roads we made it to Violes. That’s where Anthony discovered he had lost his phone. So we all split up. Alec and I then chanced upon the disused train line which is charming and flat and felt very bad that A and J had to retrace their steps along the roads.
On the route we passed a closed up tunnel now used for temperature controlled wine storage.
Disused tunnel now a wine cellar
Anyway all was well, the phone was still lying on a track and we re-grouped and pedalled a little further out the other side of the village before calling it a day.
Sablet from the East.
It is a good region to explore by bike as there is a good mix of countryside, vines and hills, none too testing, and lots of pretty towns.
Our last supper was washed down with a couple of the Piaugier’s ‘Briguieres 2007’ bottles of Cote de Rhone and we were feeling pretty mellow by now. Well - fairly because at 7.15am tomorrow a taxi will arrive to take us and our bikes to Orange station from where we begin a one day marathon trek from the south to the north of France.
Wednesday 26th The day it all ends.
Despite my scepticism the taxi did arrive at 7.15 and happily loaded the bikes into the back and off we set for Orange – in the pitch dark, so thank heavens we didn’t think we could bike it!
At the station the train arrived on time and had a special compartment for bikes so we slid into our reserved seats (the French are very good at this) and away we went to Paris. The downside to this was that the buffet was closed and was not going to open and we had specially not had breakfast as we had thought to eat on the train would help pass the two and a half hour journey!
At the Gare de Lyon the Tourist Office provided us with a ‘bike route map of Paris’ and we settled into a coffee and chocolate chip cookie to make up for no breakfast – it couldn’t possibly take more than 30 minutes to cycle from the Gare de Lyon to the Gare St Lazaire.
It was an interesting and exhilarating ride, we thought we were going pretty fast but kept being overtaken by Parisien business ladies and gents, ciggy in one hand, mobile phone in the other looking totally relaxed, hammering along and weaving through the traffic – have they no sense of self preservation? After what felt like no time at all Vivi called out – we’ve only ten minutes until the train leaves. No problem - the station was just around the corner, so on we ploughed. However at the station there was reconstruction work and no lift to take us from the ground floor to the level where the trains are. Whoops! Had we known we could have gone up a side street which takes you to the next level, but we didn’t know that! So we scrambled the bikes onto the moving staircase and up we ascended only to find the train no longer advertised on the departure board and all our hopes of getting to Le Havre dashed.
1train later, we eventually arrived at the harbour dead on when the boat should leave, it was still there and didn’t go until 35 minutes later but it was no good, they were simply not going to let us on! We were not too happy about this, but it was entirely self-inflicted, - we should have starved till we arrived at Gare st Lazare.
Poor old Le Havre was flattened in the war and is not now the most attractive looking place as the town was entirely rebuilt and concrete was the main material for construction.
Picture of Le Havre’s concrete cathedral.
We decided to take a positive view of the unscheduled extra day in France and booked into a little central hotel and were really quite relieved to stop, as it had been a pretty full on day.
Thursday 27th October.
Le Havre - Home
The ferries only leave once a day and that is in the evening, so we had all day to ahead of us and were very relaxed. The Tourist office had given us some good maps for a walking tour of the town but it was raining and cold so we went to the Musee Malraux instead. This was great as it has the 2nd largest collection of Impressionist paintings, after Paris. A great many famous artists lived and painted there, because of the very clear light. The museum building is not unlike the Tate in Cornwall, large, airy and very modern and the paintings are very well hung so we had a happy couple of hours looking at an enormous collection of Pissaro, Boudin, and Monet amongst many, mixed with some rather good contemporary artists, sculptors and photographers.
The weather had cleared so we admired the Queen Elizabeth who was docked there; she is really enormous and quite dwarfed the container ships and other boats.
Monet’s view (with the QE2 in the background) whereas Monet had just sea and sky!
Fortunately the allies had managed to avoid the Notre Dame church in the centre which was rather beautiful. We were having a look at some of the stained glass windows, being extra quiet as there was a man praying beside us, when he let out a real trumpet of a fart! We were a little taken aback and it quite ruined any beautiful thoughts we might have been having.
Our last lunch, (and only the 2nd one eaten inside in 30 days) was Prawns and Langoustine; excellent.
We were so worried about missing the ferry again, we checked in nearly 2 hours early!
Vivi kept peering out of the restaurant window to check that the boat was still there.
Well, that’s the end of just 30 days of cycling down the Saône and the Rhone – just short of 600 miles in all. Looking back we cannot remember the beginning, but at the same time it is over in a flash. Every moment has been the greatest fun. We have immersed ourselves in Rhone culture, food, wine, the countryside and loved it all.
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