 Bicycle Touring France 1999
A cycle tour through the Pas-de-Calais, Somme, Picardy,
Normandy, a petit bit of Brittany and the Loire Valley in May, 1999.
(Maps of our route can be viewed by clicking on
the links through out the article.)
We caught the ferry from Newhaven in southern England to the
French port of Dieppe from where we planned on cycling through Normandy.
Because of bad weather, the ferry was diverted to Boulogne, 120 kilometres further north.
Well that was the official reason given by the captain after we had left
Newhaven. However, one of the crew told us that the real reason was that work on
the ferry terminal in Dieppe hadn't been completed so the large hydrofoil
ferries which had only started operating the route couldn't berth properly. Most of the people on board were taking advantage of
the cheap fares to have a day shopping in France and provided there was a
hypermarché nearby, they weren't worried where they ended up. For us on our
bicycles, it meant a rethink of our plans.
Our first thought was to take the train to Rouen. This would
save us a few days cycling and give us a bit of lea way in a tight schedule.
When we arrived at the station, we found that trains in the north western parts
of France were on strike. The fast TGV (train grand vitesse) trains to Paris were running.
With our folding Bike Fridays, it would
have been quite easy to take one to Paris and join our planned route north of
the city but we really didn't think of that at the time. We decided to start riding
south hoping it would only take a couple of days to meet up with our planned route.
We bought a new map at the station bookstore and with
the assistance of a friendly railway worker, we were on our way. On the
outskirts of the city, we pulled over to check the map and make sure we were
heading in the right direction. A young couple in a sexy looking convertible thought nothing
of holding up a long line of traffic to check that we were OK and didn't need any
assistance.
By this time the boulangeries and food shops had closed for lunch and
we were starting to feel very hungry. We should have shopped before leaving the
city, but... After what seemed to be a long ride but in
reality only a few kilometres, we found an open
supermarché in the village of Condette. Our baguette, cheese
and tomatoes eaten in a tiny park on the side of the road, made a delicious and satisfying lunch. We then continued to follow
the coast to our first French campsite at Etaples, 32 kilometres south of Boulogne.
Because we arrived early in the season, we were charged half price for our
campsite. Etaples was the site of a major British army hospital during the First
World War and the adjacent cemetery contains the graves of many of those wounded
soldiers who failed to survive the journey home. Map
1 - Boulogne-sur-Mer to Etaples.
The
World War I cemetery at Etaples
That evening when we were looking at the map we
realised that we were only a couple of days cycling from the First World War
battlefields of the Somme and the Australian War Memorial at Villers-Bretonneux.
When we first started planning this trip our plans had included this area but they had been dropped because of a
lack of available time. Plans are only made to be broken, so we decided to head for the battlefields and then take
the train to Rouen.
It
was amazing how much further advanced Spring was here compared to England. The
trees here were in full leaf and fruit trees were covered in blossom. We headed
south in gloriously warm sun. After a
brief stop at the market in Berck where we purchased bread and fruit for lunch,
we
had a delightful ride along the valley of the River Authie.
We turned onto a small lane at Maintenay and stopped under the shade of the huge
plane trees to eat our lunch. Apparently, Napoleon ordered the planting of trees
along the roads to provide shade for his soldiers. The descendants of those
trees help make France such a delightful place to cycle. The roads were quiet
and peaceful, with pleasant countryside and glimpses of
châteaux in walled
gardens.
From Auxi-le-Château we had the first of many long climbs,
gentle flat riding along the tops of the plateau, fast descents into the valleys
where tiny villages clustered around bubbling streams. Then long climbs back
up again. With no hedgerows and the fields seeming to come right up to the edge
of the road, it felt as if we were cycling on top of the world. The sun shone
brightly and warmly and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
Map 2 - Etaples
to Auxi-le-Chateau
As we rode into Bernaville, there was an international reminder the
"civilisation" was not far away. The ubiquitous Golden Arches of the
sign told us
that "un Grand Mac" was only minutes away by car. We spent a long time in the
supermarché trying to choose things to buy.
We get used to the layout and products in our local supermarkets and it is
much more difficult when the products and brand names are so very different. It
seemed to take ages to choose what we would buy.
Map3 - Auxi-le-Chateau
to Corbie
When we arrived in Corbie, we saw a sign to the campground and headed in that
direction. After several kilometres of riding, we realised that we had missed a
turn off to the campground. A local cyclist on his way home from a training ride
rode back with us to show us the way. Coming from that direction there was a
sign down the side road to lead us to a pleasant spot by the river. We pitched
our tent and were relaxing on our Thermarest seats, when a woman from a
neighbouring caravan, offered us the use of a couple of some of their plastic chairs and
a table so that we wouldn't have to sit on the ground.
From Corbie we cycled to few kilometres to the Australian War
Memorial at Villers-Bretonneux. It was very moving to stand amongst the rows
upon rows of grave stones of young men and look at the wall recording the names
of the 11,000 Australians who died and who have no known grave. In the village
of Villers-Bretonneux, all public buildings fly the Australian flag alongside
the tricolore of France. The local people celebrate Anzac Day each year -
"Souvenir aux Australiens" - "Remember the Australians"
it read on the village war memorial.
There were fresh flowers in memory of the Australian soldiers who fought and
died here.
Homage paid, we rode into Amiens to check on trains; they were still on strike.
We could have caught a train into Paris and then on to Rouen but we decided to
continue cycling.
The next day we started cycling through Picardie. When we
arrived in the small village of le Bosquel, we stopped for lunch in the shade of
some trees near the cemetery. A worker with a craggy, lined face and only one
tooth, drove up on a very noisy old tractor. He turned off the engine and told
us in his heavily accented French, that we could get lovely cold water from the
tap just inside the cemetery gates. Our water was obviously too hot from being
on our bikes in the sun all morning. Well, that's what we think he said and the
water from the cemetery tap was very cool and refreshing.
After setting up camp in Poix-de-Picardie, we went looking for
the railway station to check on what was happening with the train strike. Most
French towns have signs to the railway station which make them easy to find. We
asked several people for directions but we couldn't find the station. We found
the train lines. We saw trains running. We even saw the station in the distance,
but we couldn't find the road which would take us there. We decided that we
weren't meant to catch trains on this part of the trip.
Our map showed a campground in the old spa town of Forges-les Eaux where we stopped for lunch, but
we decided that it was too early to stop for
the day. We rode on to Buchy, a further 15km down the road. Buchy is a fair
sized town and the commune capital, so we thought we would take the risk of
finding some form of accommodation there. The tourist office in the Mairie
told us that the nearest campground other than Forges-les-Eaux was in Rouen some
40km away and that there were no hotels in the area. Our guide book described
the Rouen campground as difficult to get to and we didn't relish the thought of
trying to find it in the thick of the peak hour traffic. On the way into town,
we had seen a sign for a chambre d'hote but when we checked it out, we
found the gate to the building locked with a heavy chain and two large and
rather mean looking dogs roaming free in the grounds. We rode back to
Forges-les-Eaux to spend the night.
Map 4 - Corbie
to Forges-les-Eaux
Our
route took us on quiet roads around the large and busy city of Rouen and we
reached the Seine at the town of Duclair where we stopped for coffee
in the square near the river. We cycled along the quiet D45 with the Seine on
our left and apple and cherry orchards on our right. The cherries were just
starting to ripen. Many of the farms had signs advertising farm made cider and
calvados. We camped near the spectacular, ruined abbey of Jumièges. St. Philbert founded the
original abbey here in 654 and the ruins we see today date back to the 11th
century. The abbey thrived until it was destroyed during the French Revolution.
At a nearby café, we sat and watched the ocean going
ships on their way up the Seine to the port at Rouen and enjoyed a luscious
Tarte Tatin, several centimetres of caramelised apple on a thin pastry base.
Map 5 -
Forges-les-Eaux to Pont-Audemer
Tarte Tatin is a delicious dessert and really quite easy
to make. Served with rich cream or a good crème fraiche,
it disappears very quickly.
Cover the base of a 20cm cast iron dish with 100gm of sugar (I
use raw caster sugar when I can get it). Slice 100gm of unsalted butter and
place on top of the sugar. Peel, core and quarter enough apples to cover the
base of the dish and place the pieces in an attractive pattern. Use a variety of
apple which does not collapse when cooked. Golden Delicious, Pink Lady and Lady
Williams apples work well. Over a medium heat, melt the butter and sugar and
cook until the mixture caramelises - about 20 minutes or so. Baste the apples
with the butter/sugar mixture from time to time. Cover the apples with a sheet
of shortcrust pastry, tucking the excess around the edge of the apples.
Cook in a pre-heated oven, 200°C, until
the pastry is golden brown.
When cooked, remove from the oven, place a large serving plate
over the dish and quickly turn it upside down. Replace any apple pieces which
may have stuck to the dish.
Serve warm with lots of cream. This is not a low calorie, low
cholesterol dish!
The
ruined abbey at Jumièges
It
started raining this morning. A series of thunderstorms moved through and the
rain tumbled heavily from the sky. We stayed in bed for a while until there was
a break in the weather long enough for us to pack everything up. The tent was
wet but it would dry quickly when we erected it at the end of the day. There
were a couple of brief showers as we rode to Yainville but it cleared again for
our ferry crossing of the Seine. By the time we reached the village of
Notre-Dame-de-Bliquetuit-la-Maileraye-sur-Seine, a small town for such a big
name, it was raining heavily. It was a bleak climb through the dark and
foreboding Fôret de Brotonne and
it continued raining on and off for most of the day. At Bourneville we decided
to have lunch at a
créperie to shelter from from the continuing
rain. Our lunch cost FF60 for three very pleasant courses with wine and coffee.
It was still raining when we left the café.
The rained eased as we left Pont-Audemer and followed the tiny
D39 along the edge of the Marais Vernier before crossing the river and following
the quiet roads through Conteville and Berville-sur-Mer. The weather was
starting to clear and we stopped to take off our wet weather gear. The
spectacular Pont de Normande, the suspension bridge spanning the mouth of the
Seine to Le Havre was nearby.
When we reached Honfleur, there was just enough time to get the
tent up and everything under cover before the rain bucketed down again. An
English cycling tourist told us that it had been the heaviest shower that they
had all day. Honfleur is a very
picturesque but very touristy small port. Even at his early stage of the year
the streets were full of English and German speaking tourists. Around the old port area,
it seemed as if nearly every building housed a restaurant and those that didn't
sold postcards and souvenirs. We heard more English spoken here than French but even so, the
restaurants were nearly empty. It must be horribly crowded in the main tourist
season.
The
picturesque old port of Honfleur
After stopping at the Saturday morning market to buy some cheese
and a quiche for lunch we left Honfleur. The wind direction changed and instead
of the tailwind we had hoped for, we battled against a strong head wind for much
of the morning. We left the heavy traffic of the coast road behind us at
Pennedepie and had a long climb to la Croix-Sommet before enjoying a very long
swooping downhill to the delightfully attractive town of Touques. After a gentle
climb to Forges-de-Blonville, we stopped for lunch looking out over
green fields and valleys dotted with apple trees and cows. Apples for cider and
calvados and cows for butter, cream and cheese - Camembert cheese - we were in
Normandy.
At Varaville, we turned onto the extremely busy D513 and battled
both the traffic and a strong headwind for the next five kilometres before
reaching the peace and tranquillity of the D224 into Ranville. Why we hadn't
followed the quiet lanes which ran parallel to the main road, we couldn't
answer.
We had now moved from those parts of France dominated by the
First World War to an area dominated by the D-Day or J-Jour landings of the
Second World War and the Battle for Normandy. In Touques, there is a main street
called Rue Ox and Bucks after the English regiment that liberated the town and
there were memorials to regiments and battles along the way. Not far from our campsite in Ranville was the famous Pegasus bridge
which was the first part of France to be liberated when it was captured by
British paratroopers during the early hours of the morning of the D-Day
landings. The first house to be "liberated" is now a café specialising in "English Teas".
Map 6 - Pont-Audemer
to Ranville
It was Sunday and the roads were full of cyclists as we made our
way past Reviers and the Canadian cemetery and war memorial. There were peletons
of sporting cyclists on their sleek racing cycles in their matching club jerseys
as well as couples and families on their comfortable recreation bikes enjoying a
day in the country. We saw one couple three times as our paths crossed and
became quite friendly. It was a lovely sunny day.
There was a very steep downhill and magnificent views over the
countryside and out to sea as we rode towards Asnelles-Meuvaines before an
equally steep climb to the hills above Arromanches. We stopped for lunch on the
outskirts of town and enjoyed good views over the town and the remains of the
"mulberry" harbour from World War Two. The "mulberry" harbours were built as
large concrete sections in England and towed across the channel to provide
temporary harbours for the allies until they had captured a major port like
Cherbourg. The one in Arromanches was partially destroyed in a storm not long
after it has been put in place. Ironically, it is the only one that you can see
now.
We had some difficulty in finding the campground in Bayeux.
After going round in circles a couple of times, we found it a couple of hundred
metres from the road on which we rode into town. Bayeux is the home of the famous
tapestry sewn under the supervision of Rèine Mathilde,
wife of Guillaume,
to celebrate the last successful invasion of England by Guillaume le
Conquérant in 1066. It seemed as though everywhere you
looked in the old town there was a sign giving directions to the special
building housing the tapestry.
An Old Soldier Says Goodbye
I’ve always found war cemeteries to be particularly
moving places. The rows of graves of young men and women who, in the case of
Australia and New Zealand, travelled to the other side of the world to fight and
die in wars for causes that were often not properly understood.
The British Commonwealth buried its dead near where they
fell and cemeteries large and small are dotted over the countryside of northern
France. Small beds of flowers at the foot of each gravestone tend to soften the
sombre reality of the sacrifices of the dead soldiers. Sometimes there are just
one or two graves in a village cemetery but these are looked after with the same
care as those in the large cemeteries. In one village cemetery, there were three
headstones for one grave where they were unable to separately identify and bury
the remains of a bomber crew. The Americans, in contrast, tended to gather their
dead and bury them in a small number of very large cemeteries.
It
was raining heavily as we cycled from Bayeux to the American war cemetery near
Colleville-sur-Mer. The heavy dark clouds added to the solemnity of the scene of
rows and rows of stark white marble crosses (and an occasional Star of David)
set in green grass that seemed to stretch forever into the distance. There were
no beds of flowers to soften the scene, but one grave stood out from all the
others.
The
American War Cemetery at Colleville-sur-Mer
A large bouquet of brilliant yellow flowers rested at its
base. At the foot of the grave stood a frail old man leaning heavily on his
walking stick. The tears that ran silently down his face mixed with the cold
rain before falling to the ground. He seemed oblivious to the cold and the rain
that was slowly seeping through his jacket. His son and grandchildren huddled in
the shelter of a nearby memorial. After sometime, he stretched up and lifted his
face to the sky and the rain. Turning to me he said, "At least we can still
feel the rain which is more than these poor sods buried here can."
He was on his last trip to France and had come to say
goodbye to a close friend and comrade who had died beside him during the D Day
landings at Omaha Beach nearby. Tomorrow he was going home. He had cancer and
tomorrow, he was going home to die.
When we arrived in Carentan after riding in the rain nearly all
day, we felt that we deserved a break from camping. The nearby tourist office
wasn't very helpful. In answer to our queries about hotels, they would only give
us a photocopied sheet with the names and telephone numbers, but no addresses of
a number of hotels in the area. We felt rather annoyed with their attitude and
stopped at a nearby café for coffee. By the time we had finished
our drinks, the sun was shining brightly. We decided to stay in the damp, but
otherwise very pleasant,
campground nearby.
Map 7 - Ranville
to Carentan
Just after we left Coutances, the chain on David's bike broke
after less than 1,000km of wear. Luckily, we were able to repair it with some
spare links that we were carrying. The elderly couple whose house we stopped in
front of arrived home with their young grandson as David was trying to clean the
worst of the grease from his hands. When the grandfather came to see what was
happening and saw David's hands, he lead him into the garden and gave him some
home made soap, warm water and a clean white towel to wash his hands. We gave
the grandson a toy koala as a thank you present for their kindness.
We arrived in Granville just as a few of the shops were opening.
After eating some pastries near the ruins of the old château,
we went to the syndicat initiative to find out where we could find a bike
shop. It was still closed despite being after the signed opening time. We went
to the post office to buy some stamps but it was closed also. We waited around
for a while. Some shops were open but the town seemed very quiet for a Thursday
morning. Finally, we found out that it was "Ascension" day and a public
holiday. We had no food with us. Dinner the previous night had been a "scratch
and make do" affair and we needed to find a supermarket somewhere. David was
already complaining that he was going to fade to a shadow.
Map 8 - Carentan
to Granville
At the small seaside town of Jullouville, we found an open
boulangerie, the queue of waiting customers stretching along the footpath.
After stocking up on bread and pastries, we found a small bike shop where we
purchased a replacement chain for David's bike. As we followed the coast, we
started to see the spectacular site of Mont-St. Michel on the other side of the
bay. We stopped for lunch at le Grand Port, which in spite of its name consisted
only of a couple of houses and a very run down farm. We wondered what in its
history would have earned this tiny hamlet such a name. It did have magnificent
views of the monastery.
We stayed at the small campground near the end of the causeway
to Mont-St. Michel
and dined on moules et frites at a nearby
café. The ancient
pilgrimage
centre of the abbey of Mont-St. Michel is one of the most popular tourist
destinations in France after Paris and receives millions of visitors each year. Through the large windows of the restaurant we
had a wonderful view of the non-stop procession of cars leaving the Mont.
The next morning we rode the few kilometres across the causeway
to Mont-St. Michel. Sheep graze on the salty grass which grows on the mud flats
of the bay. They cross the road whenever they want causing the heavy flow of traffic to
come to a sudden stop. Because of the salt content of the grass, the meat from
these sheep is known as "Prè Salé" or "field
salted" and is considered to be a regional delicacy.
There were
very few tourists around when we entered the village, but it wasn't long before it felt as though
a whole
year's supply of visitors were there with us. The narrow cobbled streets
leading to the abbey were blocked shoulder to shoulder with tourists. The old
stone buildings lining the way now house restaurants and tatty souvenir shops.
Where they once sold pieces of the "true" cross and fragments of bones of the
saints, they now sell plastic swords and souvenir T shirts. Nothing much has
changed over the centuries. Plus ça change! One of the restaurants is the that of la
mère Poulard who became famous throughout France for her
omelettes. The restaurant still packs them in and from the street, you can see
the uniformed chefs beating the eggs in steady rhythm. We visited in May
and the crowds were such that it is hard to imagine what it would be like to
come at the height of the holiday season in August. In spite of the
crowds and the commercialism, Mont-St. Michel is an impressive place.
Map 9 -
Granville to Dinan
We stopped in Pontorson just before we crossed the border from Normandy into Brittany
to do some shopping and to send some postcards. It must be written into French
law that there is always to be a long slow queue in a French post office. It
doesn't seem to matter what time of the day it is or how many people there are
serving, there is always a queue and it always moves intolerably slowly. It was
a delightful day's cycling along the quiet undulating roads and the slight
tailwind was very welcome after the headwinds of the previous few days. In the
village of Epinac, we stopped at the tiny boulangerie and bought Far
Bréton, a delicious custard and prune slice and
luscious pair tarts.
We rode
through a forest to the lovely walled city of Dinan overlooking the river Rance. After
the crowds of Mont-St. Michel, it was delightfully pleasant to walk the quiet
cobbled streets lined with old half-timbered buildings. The view from the
Jardin Anglais over the old port with its wharves lined with pleasure craft
is most enjoyable. The Rue du Jerzual, a narrow cobble-stoned lane, lead us
steeply down through the town walls to the river. This was once the main street
leading to the port but the 15th and 16th century buildings now house artists,
sculptors and glass blowers. At one of the many cafés
lining the river front we had a pleasant meal and watched the sun set turn the
sandstone of the Pont Neuf through a series of rich golden yellows and orange to
deep red.
The
old port at Dinan
Bernard du Guesclin, whose statue stands in the main square,
fought against the English invaders for more than 20 years before dying at
Châteauneuf-de-Randon
in 1380. His dying wish was to be buried in Dinan. They embalmed his body in Le
Puy, burying his entrails in the Eglise St. Laurent. The embalming hadn't been
properly carried out, so they boiled his remains at Montferrand where his flesh
was buried. At Le Mans, an emissary from the King ordered that his body be taken
to St. Dénis for a Royal burial. Only his heart managed
to reach Dinan where it lies in the Basilique St. Sauveur. Thus, du Guesclin
ended up with four tombs which is more than any of the Kings of France managed
to have.
We rode for twenty
kilometres along the towpaths of the Rance-Vilaine canal, past old rose covered
watermills to the large 12th century
Prieuré de St: Magloire at Léhon. It was a
delightful ride and we wondered if it would be possible to follow the canal all the way across Brittany.
Most of the campgrounds in Brittany had not yet opened for the
year, so we decided to take the train to Saumur in the Loire valley. In fact, it
took five trains in as many hours and much carrying of bikes and gear from platform to platform
to reach Saumur in the pouring rain. It was raining so hard and we
were so wet and cold by the time we found the campground on an island in the
Loire, that we pitched our tent in the large covered atrium of the amenities
block. We carried it fully erected onto our campsite, much to the amusement of
other campers all warm and dry in their motor caravans. During the night the
rain stopped and we had a great, flood-lit view over the river to the
château.
The
next morning the sun shone brightly and the heavy rain of the previous night
seemed to be just a memory. That seemed to be the pattern for our time in the
Loire - rain in the late afternoon and evening (just as we were cooking dinner)
and fine during the day.
After a steep climb out of Saumur we rode through some of the
Loire valley's famous vineyards before entering the
Fôret-de-Fontevraud, a large forest now used by the French army for their
war games. We had hoped to visit the famous abbey at
Fontevraud-l'Abbaye where Henry II of England and France and Elanor of
Acquitaine lie buried but we arrived just as it was closing for lunch.
(The two and a half to
three hour lunch break when most shops, museums, etc close, can make life a
little difficult at times for the touring cyclist. You always need to be aware
of the time and make sure that you have purchased your picnic lunch ingredients
ahead of closing time. We were rather unlucky with shopping in our first couple
of weeks in France. Those shops that open on Saturday tend to close on Monday or
Wednesday. As well, we had three public holidays, May Day, Victory in
Europe Day and Ascension Day. If these days are added to closures on Saturday,
Sunday, Monday and Wednesday that we came across, we were only able to shop for
food about every second day. It tended to make life a little frustrating at
times.)
From Fontevraud we cycled through more "restricted" areas and
along the tiny C3 and C2 roads before dropping down to the Vienne River and the
delightful town of Chinon. The campground is gently terraced on the banks of the
river and has dramatic views over the river to the ruined
château. It was here that Jeanne d'Arc picked out
the disguised Dauphin from among his courtiers and set her on the journey which
led to her death by burning by the British at Orleans. Not far from Chinon is
the Musée du Nucléaire on the site of France's first
nuclear power station. There are a number of other nuclear power stations in the
area. Why do governments build nuclear reactors and power plants in areas of
particular beauty and historic interest?
We had another steep climb out of Chinon before enjoying a long
descent to Ussé on the banks of the River Indre. The
fairy-tale château at Ussé is
supposed to be the model for Snow White's castle. Still privately owned, it is
one of the more expensive châteaux open to the public. We
followed the Indre to the very pretty château at Azay-le-Rideau.
After leaving our bikes in the special "Parking Vélos"
area,
we had a pleasant picnic lunch under the chestnut trees by the moat. The
château at Azay-le-Rideau is owned by the state and while
the buildings and the gardens are well maintained, the interior is quite stark
with only a couple of rooms furnished and decorated. This was common with the
state owned buildings.
Bicycle parking at the château
at Azay-le-Rideau
There were a lot of cyclists at the château
at Azay. That night
we camped on the banks of the Indre at Montbazon and enjoyed a bottle of the
local Touraine wine as we cooked our dinner in the rain.
Map 10 - Saumur to
Montbazon
We got lost trying to leave Montbazon. Well, it wasn't really
"lost", we just couldn't find the road we wanted. Unusually, the D250 wasn't signposted and
when we eventually did find it after a couple of wrong turns, it turned out to
be a most pleasant tiny lane running alongside the river. After 22 delightful
kilometres, we climbed over the hills to that most photographed
château, Chenonceaux, which is built on piers over the River Cher.
Chenonceaux was built
for Diane de Poitiers, mistress of Henri II. She was so concerned about her good
looks that she refused to smile in case she wrinkled her face. The château
was forcibly taken over by Henri's widow, Catherine de Médicis
after the King's death in 1559. It is one of the most popular of the numerous
châteaux in the Loire Valley and if you want to enjoy the
spectacular gardens or walk through the elegantly furnished rooms, there is one
thing you will have to put up with - tourists, tourists and more tourists.
That night we camped at the small municipal campground in nearby
Chisseaux. There was no one else camping there when we arrived. A new, luxury
campground on the other side of the river is attracting most of the customers.
In an attempt to get our washing dry we hung it on lines draped around the
toilet block. Just after we had finished stringing our lines everywhere, another
family arrived. The guardienne at the campground recommended that we dine
at the Auberge du Rouge Cheval in the village. We enjoyed the best meal that we had in France.
The quality of the food was exceptionally good and the price very reasonable.
We climbed from the Cher valley
and then enjoyed a long descent into the valley of the Loire
proper at Chaumont-sur-Loire. While we were visiting the château,
we met up with the group of retired American cyclists that we had first met at
Azay-le-Rideau. They play tennis together in Southern California but each year
they come to France for a couple of weeks, hiring bikes, cycling from hotel to
hotel, eating and drinking too much. They really seemed to be enjoying
themselves. We stopped on the banks of the river at
Candé-sur-Beuvron for lunch. The sun was starting to shine and we draped
our wahing over the picnic table to dry while we ate. We then followed the Loire to the city of Blois.
The steep, narrow, medieval streets lined with cafés and
expensive boutiques make Blois a very pleasant place to relax.
Not far from Blois is the great château of Chambord. Built by
François I, Chambord is the largest and one of the most
spectacular of the Loire Valley châteaux. The famous
double helix staircase and the elaborate roof are thought to have been designed
by Leonardo da Vinci who lived in le Clos Lucé near Amboise, for the last years
of his life. Like most of the state owned châteaux most
of the rooms are unfurnished but a small part of the king's chambers have been
decorated and furnished with period pieces.
Map 11 - Montbazon to
Chambord
From Blois we caught the train to Paris to meet up with
holidaying relatives. We had cycled 1,207 kilometres over 25 days. We camped each
night and found the campgrounds to be generally excellent and welcoming.
Day Destination
Distance
-
Boulogne to Etaples 32km
-
Auxi-le-Chateau 77km
-
Corbie 69km
-
Corbie 50km
-
Poix-de-Picardie
61km
-
Forges-les-Eaux 77km
-
Jumièges 68km
-
Jumièges
-
Honfleur
65km
-
Ranville
52km
-
Bayeux 48km
-
Bayeux 12km
-
Carentan 66km
-
Donville-sur-Mer 76km
-
Mont-St.
Michel 65km
-
Mont-St.
Michel
6km
-
Dinan 63km
-
Dinan 29km
-
Saumur (by
train) 23km
-
Chinon 39km
-
Montbazon 54km
-
Chisseaux 56km
-
Blois 56km
-
Blois 42km
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