Monday 3rd October.
Macon to Belleville.
During the night we had managed to book ourselves into a BandB in Belleville and to our surprise Macon was looking much more attractive in yet more lovely sunshine. We had a quick look into the church of St Peter’s which was beautiful. In the High St was a ‘poor box’ set into the wall outside a boulangerie – wonder how long one of them would last in England!
It was pitch dark inside and the only light streaming in was from the Rose window at one end: it had probably looked like that since it was built. We crossed the river Saone
which had cruise boats similar to the ones on the Nile tied up alongside. Unlike the Nile these ones are single berthed instead of being treble or quadruple parked. There were masses of swans
who clearly expected us to feed them but were disappointed. It looked as though the people on the cruise ships do, as the walls of the river were covered in loaves and sandwiches which had not fallen down as far as the water. No seagulls here and seemingly no other vermin. Although when I was riding along yesterday a large rat with his head stuck in the storm drain was in my way. I presumed he was dead so carried on but as soon as I passed he slipped into the drain and then his nose came out to watch Alec go over. They are almost the size of rabbits here.
We had been told in the Office de Tourisme (OdeT) that there was an old railway line on the other side which would take us to Thoissey where there was another OdeT for the next French Region and we could pick up more maps and hotel brochures there. But the little road soon ran into a pikey camp with at least 20 mongrel dogs some as large as the Hound of the Baskervilles and the other side of them another river with no bridge. Vivi doesn’t like scary dogs chasing her on her bike at the best of times and this was not one of them so I advanced bravely and found a group of people sitting in a circle reading. I called and most of them ignored me, but a man with dreds, chains and smoking a doobie came over still holding his book. So I asked could we get down to Villefranche this way and he replied in English (how do they know!!) that we couldn’t but the best way on a bike was back over the river and follow the little old road on the other side. And the book he was reading was an old book of French poetry - well there are you go you just never can tell. Sadly I was having a bad camera day and didn’t get a photo of him.
We stuck to the East side of the river for the next 15 miles or so which was very pretty agricultural land, maize and onions mostly. There are some whopping pumpkins in most gardens too. We saw and old man sitting under a canvas awning with two of the biggest pumpkins I’ve ever seen. We could only imagine that he was guarding them or he’d cast a spell on his wife and her sister and was simply enjoying a bit of peace and quiet. Sadly no picture.
Everything is incredibly neat over here although most of the houses are so ancient and have large cracks down the walls you put your fist in. Without the rain we have at home I suppose they can last that way for a long time before falling over. The cows are suddenly Normandy cattle and our host tonight told us that is for the cheese making which is big in this area. We had a selection of very good stinky ones the other night all of which we had never seen or heard of before.
We dropped down to the river for another lovely baguette lunch lying on the river bank. Our tans are coming along nicely although they are a bit stripy and ‘farmery’. Leaving the river we had to follow a bumpy stony track which was the final straw for my rather weak back tyre valve and it gave up the ghost right on a T junction where every juggernaut in France seemed to be turning in or out and to make it worse every 2 minutes a tractor and load of maize silage went by. Anyway I managed to change the inner tube and things after that were a lot better.
The next excitement was a field full of garlic being harvested and tied into strings by hot sweaty extremely lightly clad ladies, there glistening bodies sparking in the searing sun (I could go on but you’d get bored) anyway I’ve already said I was having a bad camera day and this is the 3rd and final lost moment! Sorry.
Eventually we made it to Belleville and being Monday it was closed so we went on to our BandB and were met by our charming hostess who was by the pool with her son and another guest. Would we like to have a swim? Crickey – do bears **** in the woods. It took us less than five minutes to unpack get into our bathers and be in it, bliss.
This is our BandB but taken from the front so no sign of the pool!
Supper of course was more complicated and we had declined table d’hote with the family basically because it was extortionately expensive and secondly because we find making conversation in French exhausting or at least poor Vivi does because she’s the one who has to do most of the talking! So we cycled back into town and gave the Station Hotel a miss where we had thought we would go because Vivi saw two men french kissing in it! We then went from bar to bar enquiring as to whether anyone would feed us with the same negative response until finally we were offered a hot ‘dinde’ baguette and a pichet of Beaujolais and a Beaujolais blanc aperitif which we fell on with gratitude. The white Beaujolais is not recommended. At least not this particular one! By 9pm we were the bar’s only customers, which was run by a charming lady who continually topped us up, brought us coffee and mopped the floor around us all at the same time chattering away. She said that the summer tourist season had been pretty rubbish thus I think she may have thought perhaps we were a good omen for next summer. She also said she had never been to England as too wet but would like to go to Ireland, which intrigued me - we didn’t want to disillusion her!
Macon to Belleville.
During the night we had managed to book ourselves into a BandB in Belleville and to our surprise Macon was looking much more attractive in yet more lovely sunshine. We had a quick look into the church of St Peter’s which was beautiful. In the High St was a ‘poor box’ set into the wall outside a boulangerie – wonder how long one of them would last in England!
It was pitch dark inside and the only light streaming in was from the Rose window at one end: it had probably looked like that since it was built. We crossed the river Saone
which had cruise boats similar to the ones on the Nile tied up alongside. Unlike the Nile these ones are single berthed instead of being treble or quadruple parked. There were masses of swans
who clearly expected us to feed them but were disappointed. It looked as though the people on the cruise ships do, as the walls of the river were covered in loaves and sandwiches which had not fallen down as far as the water. No seagulls here and seemingly no other vermin. Although when I was riding along yesterday a large rat with his head stuck in the storm drain was in my way. I presumed he was dead so carried on but as soon as I passed he slipped into the drain and then his nose came out to watch Alec go over. They are almost the size of rabbits here.
We had been told in the Office de Tourisme (OdeT) that there was an old railway line on the other side which would take us to Thoissey where there was another OdeT for the next French Region and we could pick up more maps and hotel brochures there. But the little road soon ran into a pikey camp with at least 20 mongrel dogs some as large as the Hound of the Baskervilles and the other side of them another river with no bridge. Vivi doesn’t like scary dogs chasing her on her bike at the best of times and this was not one of them so I advanced bravely and found a group of people sitting in a circle reading. I called and most of them ignored me, but a man with dreds, chains and smoking a doobie came over still holding his book. So I asked could we get down to Villefranche this way and he replied in English (how do they know!!) that we couldn’t but the best way on a bike was back over the river and follow the little old road on the other side. And the book he was reading was an old book of French poetry - well there are you go you just never can tell. Sadly I was having a bad camera day and didn’t get a photo of him.
We stuck to the East side of the river for the next 15 miles or so which was very pretty agricultural land, maize and onions mostly. There are some whopping pumpkins in most gardens too. We saw and old man sitting under a canvas awning with two of the biggest pumpkins I’ve ever seen. We could only imagine that he was guarding them or he’d cast a spell on his wife and her sister and was simply enjoying a bit of peace and quiet. Sadly no picture.
Everything is incredibly neat over here although most of the houses are so ancient and have large cracks down the walls you put your fist in. Without the rain we have at home I suppose they can last that way for a long time before falling over. The cows are suddenly Normandy cattle and our host tonight told us that is for the cheese making which is big in this area. We had a selection of very good stinky ones the other night all of which we had never seen or heard of before.
We dropped down to the river for another lovely baguette lunch lying on the river bank. Our tans are coming along nicely although they are a bit stripy and ‘farmery’. Leaving the river we had to follow a bumpy stony track which was the final straw for my rather weak back tyre valve and it gave up the ghost right on a T junction where every juggernaut in France seemed to be turning in or out and to make it worse every 2 minutes a tractor and load of maize silage went by. Anyway I managed to change the inner tube and things after that were a lot better.
The next excitement was a field full of garlic being harvested and tied into strings by hot sweaty extremely lightly clad ladies, there glistening bodies sparking in the searing sun (I could go on but you’d get bored) anyway I’ve already said I was having a bad camera day and this is the 3rd and final lost moment! Sorry.
Eventually we made it to Belleville and being Monday it was closed so we went on to our BandB and were met by our charming hostess who was by the pool with her son and another guest. Would we like to have a swim? Crickey – do bears **** in the woods. It took us less than five minutes to unpack get into our bathers and be in it, bliss.
This is our BandB but taken from the front so no sign of the pool!
Supper of course was more complicated and we had declined table d’hote with the family basically because it was extortionately expensive and secondly because we find making conversation in French exhausting or at least poor Vivi does because she’s the one who has to do most of the talking! So we cycled back into town and gave the Station Hotel a miss where we had thought we would go because Vivi saw two men french kissing in it! We then went from bar to bar enquiring as to whether anyone would feed us with the same negative response until finally we were offered a hot ‘dinde’ baguette and a pichet of Beaujolais and a Beaujolais blanc aperitif which we fell on with gratitude. The white Beaujolais is not recommended. At least not this particular one! By 9pm we were the bar’s only customers, which was run by a charming lady who continually topped us up, brought us coffee and mopped the floor around us all at the same time chattering away. She said that the summer tourist season had been pretty rubbish thus I think she may have thought perhaps we were a good omen for next summer. She also said she had never been to England as too wet but would like to go to Ireland, which intrigued me - we didn’t want to disillusion her!
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