tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77290482024-03-14T13:21:25.381-04:00Far From the Madding CrowdMusic and poetry—two sides of the same coinpetergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.comBlogger332125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-30631121778151980452022-06-03T21:16:00.000-04:002022-06-03T21:16:40.128-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 wrapup<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As I read back through the blog posts for the 2022 tour, and through the wrapup posts of previous tours, I’m struck by several things. First, with each tour, we gain confidence in our ability to navigate the vagaries of tour life, from the logistics of flying with a bike, to finding suitable accommodations, to finding places to do groceries and eat. We are also more confident in our ability to ride on busier roads when necessary, and to ride longer distances or tackle terrain with more relief (though, as I have mentioned in the past, we’re not about to ride through the alps any time soon). On this trip, I think we had at least five days over 65 kilometres, including a couple of days of 70 kilometres or more. And it was much less of a problem than before. Sonia, especially, is starting to trust that her body can do the hard days when it becomes necessary. So with each trip, we feel more like “real” cycle tourers. </span></div><p style="font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Logistically, the 2022 tour was amazing. All of our travel, without exception, was trouble free. There were no issues getting the bikes on the planes; the flights were all smooth, more-or-less on time, and we had a seat between us both ways; all of our train travel was right on time, and, except for the very last trip, which involved a bit of a scramble, we had no trouble getting the bikes on the trains. </span></div><p style="font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The weather was perhaps the best of any tour we’ve ever done. We only felt literally several drops of rain—there was never any question of us breaking out the rain gear, some of which has never been worn, such is our luck on these tours (touch wood). We had a few warm days on the bike, but nothing we couldn’t handle. And even the few days we pedalled against headwinds, they were pretty light for the most part.</span></div><p style="font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Almost all of our accommodations were very good to excellent. We were only truly dissatisfied with two places. Getting good wifi connectivity was occasionally in issue, but it was a minor frustration in the grand scheme of things. Outside of the larger centres, there tended to be a lack of variety in terms of finding groceries. The stores we found most often were a chain called Carrefour Cité, and while there was nothing wrong with it per se, we began to tire of the lack of choice in certain foodstuffs, especially meat. Sonia was the one doing most of the shopping (her dietary restrictions make this a practical matter), so by the end of the tour, she was pretty sick of Carrefour Cité. </span></div><p style="font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">With so many positives to take away from this trip, I am at somewhat of a loss to explain why it does not sit higher in the ranking of our European tours. Don’t get me wrong; we had a fabulous time and made some really wonderful memories. There are parts of this trip that I will never forget. As always, it was a learning experience. And I will say this: as we were riding through the mist to Toulouse airport on our last morning, I would absolutely have just kept riding north if that had been an option. Now that we’re home, we haven’t been mourning this tour as we have others, but I really did feel that sense of wanting to keep going when it was time to come home, something that we’ve have felt on just about every tour we’ve ever done. </span></div><p style="font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I think there are at least two reasons for my bemusement about this tour. First, we were both anticipating it so greatly that it would have been almost impossible for it to live up to expectations. And second, we had underestimated both how much accumulated stress from past 2 1/2 years we were carrying and how long it would take to shed that stress so we could truly appreciate the adventure. Personally, I found myself feeling much more generalized, unexplainable anxiety, and it took me several weeks to settle into the rhythm of the tour. It may also be that as we get older (our last European tour was three years ago, after all), we may have less tolerance for finding and sleeping in a new bed every night. That’s something we’ll need to think about and discuss for future tours.</span></div><p style="font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Another thing was that this trip ended up involving a fair amount of train travel. Granted, it all went great, but I recognize that it’s not my favourite thing. Sometimes it is unavoidable, but I do find it adds a certain layer of stress to the trip. </span></div><p style="font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But all in all, the touring was lovely. The Canal latéral de la Garonne was quite beautiful in places, with the mature plane trees overhanging the canal. Certain stretches of the path were in rough shape, either from general lack of maintenance or from heaves caused by tree roots. It was a nice way to get from Toulouse to Bordeau, but if we could do it again, I think we would try and detour out to Cahors and then ride down the Lot Valley Cycle Route to where the Lot empties into the Garonne. Five days along the Garonne canal was perhaps a little much. The Vélodyssée was nicer and somewhat more varied, and I’m not sure we could have done things much differently. So while it could get a bit monotonous at times, it was generally quite lovely. I wish we could have done it in four days rather than five, though. </span></div><p style="font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The Loire Valley was my favourite part of the trip; it was much more the kind of touring I prefer—rolling through farmland and vineyards, small villages, largish towns, the intoxicating smells of the countryside, riding alongside a beautiful river. The EV6/<i>Loire à vélo</i> route was a mixed bag though, and infuriating at times. It was generally well marked but occasionally took baffling detours rather than more direct routes for seemingly arbitrary reasons. Perhaps in the summer, when this route is very heavily travelled, such roundabout routes are more necessary to avoid congestion on certain roads, but we did find it frustrating at times. And then there were the sketchy sections where Sonia’s 32mm slick road tires were not really the appropriate gear. The EV6 is a well-known cycle touring route, not some off-road bikepacking route; it was unexpected to find it so off-roady in a few places. But the scenery was spectacular. The Loire River is truly lovely, and the region is a delightful blend of small villages, larger towns with chateaux, and farms and vineyards. If we’d had a few more days, we would have taken side loops out to some of the better known chateaux, but we’ve seen Chenonceau and Chambord before, so we didn’t feel too much regret about that. And, as I’ve said before, these trips are more about serendipity than sightseeing. If we tried to see everything there is to see in any given place we cycle through, we’d only cycle 10 kilometres a day.</span></div><p style="font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now the planning for the next tour begins. We’ve been toying with the idea of doing a longer tour one of these years, and next year may just be it. Stay tuned. </span></div>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-38362259905427408642022-05-25T20:29:00.000-04:002022-05-25T20:29:20.444-04:00Cycle tour 2022 – Day 22: Home again, home again. <p>For some reason, neither of us slept very well our last night in France. Perhaps it was the agitation of knowing the next day would be a long-ass travel day; or it might have been the thunderstorms rattling the apartment's windows which were still open because of the heat. In any case, we arose quite early and had a leisurely breakfast and then began packing up to head to the airport. </p><p>Our flight left at about 3 p.m., and we wanted to be at the airport by 11:30 so we'd have enough time to change, get our bikes and bags organized, and be ready to check in 3 hours before our flight left. I know, ridiculously early, but you don't want to be in a rush when you have to get a bike on the plane, especially when it's an airport we'd never flown out of before. </p><p>So we left the apartment at about 9:15, giving us time to walk our bikes through the Grand Rond and Jardin des plantes, which we'd missed the day before. It also meant we could take the longer but nicer route to the airport, riding along the Canal du Midi, which begins in Toulouse where the Canal latéral de la Garonne ends, a nice little bookend to the trip. The weather was cool and misty—the kind of weather I had sort of been expecting throughout this trip, to be honest. France delivered on our last day. Sonia joked that in earlier trips, this sort of weather would have prompted us to don our wet weather gear, just in case. But now we know that this is just lovely, cool riding weather.</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_sq0_MisjjnZ-DKlYI1Xl6h5iqP5BBvzKPV5DYsACW0zqPxCLA2cUskD4JG8CAlLaInwxCJ3WCuOHn4U-Pg4HNujMh3QolxX8pGer6WIujm3MdHXlQS4as7P2yq5m3E5LHjPT6TKlU2OM3Z8ZVawnbslXmgGxS1LpiAifh09f_ZTnCE2wg/s4032/IMG_1548.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_sq0_MisjjnZ-DKlYI1Xl6h5iqP5BBvzKPV5DYsACW0zqPxCLA2cUskD4JG8CAlLaInwxCJ3WCuOHn4U-Pg4HNujMh3QolxX8pGer6WIujm3MdHXlQS4as7P2yq5m3E5LHjPT6TKlU2OM3Z8ZVawnbslXmgGxS1LpiAifh09f_ZTnCE2wg/w400-h300/IMG_1548.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le jardin royal</td></tr></tbody></table>The Canal du Midi ends at a small basin that connects with the Canal de la Garonne the Canal de Brienne. But our route toward the airport took us north along the Garonne proper, where we eventually crossed over to Blagnac on the Pont de Blagnac, which we had crossed the other way on our way out of Toulouse three weeks earlier. Another bookend. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoG7l4OvlnYKyS8igeickhmpxbKz31Mj3OsNx4wg-NdnyBrUlnur1qQynRngnvwY-_MJEnLbtsOSIM1bLkTedRsFjP9USKo1enE9kLSPJrm19IBn9PzX5BwPaM1tsV5H4wwSL9DSlKL4YVkAuEkAH5iq2qOrHaL9cmb5SeoM-wA3lDXXGuQ/s4032/IMG_2064.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoG7l4OvlnYKyS8igeickhmpxbKz31Mj3OsNx4wg-NdnyBrUlnur1qQynRngnvwY-_MJEnLbtsOSIM1bLkTedRsFjP9USKo1enE9kLSPJrm19IBn9PzX5BwPaM1tsV5H4wwSL9DSlKL4YVkAuEkAH5iq2qOrHaL9cmb5SeoM-wA3lDXXGuQ/w400-h300/IMG_2064.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Garonne, from the Pont de Blagnac</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Then we looked for one final patisserie so we could allow our stomachs to say their final goodbyes to France, and rolled to the airport at almost 11:30 on the dot. It didn't take us too long to change and get our bikes and bags ready. There were very few people at the check-in counter at this early hour, and, aside from reassuring the agents that we had kept our bike bags from the trip out and showing them where to put the baggage tags on the bikes, everything went smoothly. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkCIRgln7P9g3hkG_m1tZRQtVJyDiMGon5_R5U7sbXWVbTyWlgq43SFluteAdv8gaQquDwSio84tKRllE3EVU8CotP38DVZZyatX-mhLttIMY2gg7iSsS3KZmiLDrw9AgQB6Zy4RblgFqTZb4bsoN6H1g0pt39DunAoTMtC-bOQi_JLxWaw/s4032/IMG_1549.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkCIRgln7P9g3hkG_m1tZRQtVJyDiMGon5_R5U7sbXWVbTyWlgq43SFluteAdv8gaQquDwSio84tKRllE3EVU8CotP38DVZZyatX-mhLttIMY2gg7iSsS3KZmiLDrw9AgQB6Zy4RblgFqTZb4bsoN6H1g0pt39DunAoTMtC-bOQi_JLxWaw/w400-h300/IMG_1549.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One last taste of French pastry</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Then we spent about 30 minutes at the oversize luggage check-in, reassuring them that the bike bags provided by Air Transat were not a problem and that our bikes would be fine. The were more concerned that our bikes would be damaged en route and were very surprised by the arrangement all around. Of course, as with Basel on our last trip, the "oversize" scanner in Toulouse is not really meant for something as outrageously huge as a bicycle, so they had to do a physical inspection and chemical test beforehand. We knew this, and asked them repeatedly whether they wanted to do this before we put the bikes in the bags. And they repeatedly said no, it was OK. So we put the bikes in the bags, whereupon they were suddenly shocked and amazed that the bikes would not fit through the scanner and had to rip some holes in the bags to do the a chemical test. Sigh. </p><p>We left the bikes propped up against a wall in the oversized luggage area, wondering if we'd ever see them again, and made our way through security. Again, very short lines. Nothing like the trip out three weeks ago, where we waited in line for almost an hour. Of course, this meant that we had a two hour wait at the gate. But that really was fine. I spent it scanning the baggage carts as they were towed up, searching for our bikes. And shortly before we boarded, we saw them being loaded onto the plane. Hallelujah!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyzHUzeNh40bUFFz7bq2M-wnzDMqj_OgG1yaJpO3uYfP93dtO2UDfpFYI7mHXNrEvhgTJgfLqXVuIdTDClKGkAWgDlk3K4UBUBR0BtjysJb7xUYDF4a5zD8c5tZ-ePH2QtXnwYCNb_RL1M2yV9lSTDhwxBMVDKNLBl2tx9zO378mCkYVcHA/s4032/IMG_2065.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyzHUzeNh40bUFFz7bq2M-wnzDMqj_OgG1yaJpO3uYfP93dtO2UDfpFYI7mHXNrEvhgTJgfLqXVuIdTDClKGkAWgDlk3K4UBUBR0BtjysJb7xUYDF4a5zD8c5tZ-ePH2QtXnwYCNb_RL1M2yV9lSTDhwxBMVDKNLBl2tx9zO378mCkYVcHA/w300-h400/IMG_2065.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our little plane, with a huge Airbus BelugaXL in the background</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The flight was extremely smooth, and once again, we lucked out and had a free seat between us. It really does make all the difference. We landed on time, wound our way through the 3 or 4 kilometres of hallway to get to customs, breezed through (news reports of horrendous wait times due to random Covid testing had seemingly been greatly exaggerated), and went to pick up our luggage. The bikes, having been among the last items loaded, were already at the oversize carousel when I got there, and our bags came out shortly thereafter. We got the bikes ready and loaded and were out of Trudeau airport, ready to ride home, within an hour of landing. By far a record! </p><p>Unlike the last trip, we knew exactly how to ride out of the airport, cross the CN tracks and Autoroute 20 and get to the St. Lawrence this time. The ride home along the St. Lawrence and Lachine Canal truly is a lovely way to end a bike tour. The weather was cool, and so even though it was a holiday, the path was not overly crowded. We stopped briefly to eat sandwiches at the Atwater Market, and then embarked on the final 12 kilometres home. The last climb, up the Jacques-Cartier Bridge, is quite cruel with panniers, but even Sonia managed it, with her legs hardened from three weeks of touring. We made it home by 8:25, about 3 1/2 hours after landing, just as the sun was setting.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV1VYPCgZy78oBx9X9KHy4C3w8y58qTNYLTM0Ev3gyBDz6YuLOgzj8_xOc_SWLr22N5YhHL-tanP4JhKU_jrE_FT39cjsHk2LYH4EX8yLRwIU8d6riEDHBoZISBck6-Uxv4sjMwDM1BQDd3_NsBcOVgxZD38pXlknm8XbQbEylNQDYywR4Ww/s3088/IMG_2066.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV1VYPCgZy78oBx9X9KHy4C3w8y58qTNYLTM0Ev3gyBDz6YuLOgzj8_xOc_SWLr22N5YhHL-tanP4JhKU_jrE_FT39cjsHk2LYH4EX8yLRwIU8d6riEDHBoZISBck6-Uxv4sjMwDM1BQDd3_NsBcOVgxZD38pXlknm8XbQbEylNQDYywR4Ww/w400-h300/IMG_2066.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-5635184986628018102022-05-22T14:58:00.000-04:002022-05-22T14:58:54.521-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Days 20 & 21: rolling back to Toulouse<p>We awoke on Saturday morning not having slept particularly well. With only a few exceptions, all of our accommodations on this trip, whether Airbnbs or hotels, have been quite good. We stayed in one guest house that was not really to our liking, but it was in the right place, and for the same reason, we stayed in this overpriced B&B (booked through Airbnb) in Beaugency Friday night because there were few other options available other than generic hotels. Turns out, a generic hotel probably would have been better. Rarely have I felt so uncomfortable staying somewhere. The room itself was fine, though the bathroom/shower facilities were cramped. The room was stuffy (usually they're cold and damp in such old buildings). The whole place was clean though cluttered. But most of all, our host creeped me the hell out. I wouldn't say I'm a great judge of character; mostly, I try to take people at face value. But this guy, though outwardly personal (he works at city hall), made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I couldn't get out of that place fast enough!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdBY_F5GCGXcJbcHQ-hnLlEQUwc-bMe5JQfs91Qj5b7iQYipqtSyMgvnaAc1DE9HNKC-tFNhMo9xKDNPr-IW3uQp_Jt8vzXu48hbZ7fawKdB3TGkD_a2VMI0z_MAjtcvGhosiKtZlMdAGRhaA9cZMzs9dQIwCiuQXBusngifizMGhzRO7p7A/s4032/IMG_2033.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdBY_F5GCGXcJbcHQ-hnLlEQUwc-bMe5JQfs91Qj5b7iQYipqtSyMgvnaAc1DE9HNKC-tFNhMo9xKDNPr-IW3uQp_Jt8vzXu48hbZ7fawKdB3TGkD_a2VMI0z_MAjtcvGhosiKtZlMdAGRhaA9cZMzs9dQIwCiuQXBusngifizMGhzRO7p7A/w400-h300/IMG_2033.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bridge over untroubled waters (Beaugency)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPuFPtHF4pIlUqmtSHb4PfcCsHEheQ3nycZmm6WTcIZa8YsOYJUENh5oDN_8qODVCpvPwIQEDf7f2VR65n91NoClps1uP3Zkx8DH2HX7Kg-aYHrJVvkAcrwRNRfR231c3xUH8OLKDWmpTDmk8trMZ83VlzTRw5xOAH966oD41NlvRDMyUFQ/s4032/IMG_1519.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPuFPtHF4pIlUqmtSHb4PfcCsHEheQ3nycZmm6WTcIZa8YsOYJUENh5oDN_8qODVCpvPwIQEDf7f2VR65n91NoClps1uP3Zkx8DH2HX7Kg-aYHrJVvkAcrwRNRfR231c3xUH8OLKDWmpTDmk8trMZ83VlzTRw5xOAH966oD41NlvRDMyUFQ/w400-h300/IMG_1519.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFj9upSXQsAdpWx83qr0Mg588svzwAyg32mNoyD54qEWZTONJb6SNz5l6TVes9SCYMUjLaJhRgzb-0nHpYixlwpVBayyg0KAo_NUXctcfSascUVR8B6qceukNIxy53b86RADYMQ9mno5edEJQQD6RAxxlS14kYJWuo0X0uhlA1e-27Y2ZXg/s4032/IMG_1521.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFj9upSXQsAdpWx83qr0Mg588svzwAyg32mNoyD54qEWZTONJb6SNz5l6TVes9SCYMUjLaJhRgzb-0nHpYixlwpVBayyg0KAo_NUXctcfSascUVR8B6qceukNIxy53b86RADYMQ9mno5edEJQQD6RAxxlS14kYJWuo0X0uhlA1e-27Y2ZXg/w400-h300/IMG_1521.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cathédrale Sainte-Croix d'Orléans</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Anyway, by 9 am, as usual, we were once again cycling alongside the Loire, looking forward eagerly to second breakfast, since our first breakfast was a French breakfast, which is barely breakfast at all. We found a promising bakery 8 or 9 kilometres down the road in the town of Meung-sur-Loire, purchased sandwiches for lunch and a treat for B2 and continued on our way. After that, we were mostly on the Loire levee again, with nary a bench to stop until we happened upon a small park near the descriptively named hamlet of Le Vieux Bourg. There, we had our actual first breakfast, plus our little treat, and we felt ready to do the last 10 km of actual touring on this trip—into Orléans, a famous Joan of Arc haunt—where we ate our last Loire-side lunch, cycled up into the city and looked around before heading a few kilometres further inland to the Fleury-des-Aubrais train station, whence we hopped on the direct 3:40 Intercité<i> </i>train to Toulouse (in which "hopped" equals a mad dash down the platform to find the car with the bike racks, and a good-samaritan-assisted scramble to get our bikes up the narrow stairs and into the car as the conductor was blowing his whistle. Somewhat reminiscent of German trains, actually.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWqH4oopVhTiYRX_uTAMKNFLX7WnqTIkETUO1vHEqOXFtQ_mtDE3OCoMbNb_t3S8t1s_8No5ZjBSaMzR7PhVtVyPp2wJ4BN2VlejtnpMlbOiK6K21rGN3Rlksv26yVGUACHpNMUllypzaSMnHlm4J_vGdiz0tYNUaQzCy__pCTPVFcrNbBw/s4032/IMG_2042.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWqH4oopVhTiYRX_uTAMKNFLX7WnqTIkETUO1vHEqOXFtQ_mtDE3OCoMbNb_t3S8t1s_8No5ZjBSaMzR7PhVtVyPp2wJ4BN2VlejtnpMlbOiK6K21rGN3Rlksv26yVGUACHpNMUllypzaSMnHlm4J_vGdiz0tYNUaQzCy__pCTPVFcrNbBw/w400-h300/IMG_2042.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bikes on a train</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JCZJmQC9B1m6AFlNYDnK5bpYppuA_-i40F3T_9lfWz7YeikF4wVKourRMle9QodGmJ_8-Yf2jOrmbNIQsZHCrLtSZSFna1_RG3LnNkcUlOXv2cNhwrBK1O090-4Iq8CCb9Edw-57Z1sytUiMzJ_h4K6SGN_N-M6Y9xzm8a4zOvpcysPhOg/s4032/IMG_2043.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JCZJmQC9B1m6AFlNYDnK5bpYppuA_-i40F3T_9lfWz7YeikF4wVKourRMle9QodGmJ_8-Yf2jOrmbNIQsZHCrLtSZSFna1_RG3LnNkcUlOXv2cNhwrBK1O090-4Iq8CCb9Edw-57Z1sytUiMzJ_h4K6SGN_N-M6Y9xzm8a4zOvpcysPhOg/w300-h400/IMG_2043.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p>After that, though, it was a relaxing 6-hour trip to Toulouse, where we have two nights in a cosy Airbnb apartment in a very cool part of town, steps away from the Halle aux grains, home of the Orchestre national du Capitole Toulouse. </p><p>The weather today was unseasonably hot for mid-May, rising to about 34C by mid afternoon, so after one last load of laundry, we got out early to do some shopping. Serendipitously, we were perfectly situated to visit the amazing Sunday morning Saint-Aubain Market. Amidst the throngs of people, we were able to buy everything we needed for our last supper in France—such a nice change from having to find ingredients at some tiny village "supermarket" that happened to stay open till 7:30 pm. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6AhHj0-HWJWEQV8E6Rr14T33VJvk4xG4YvsY_CN1adJwXoaq0i01P44p4MtInlEA-7uCNU2BgzivphFJU6x6xfTaZ_D2MRDAFeKXg1Y1gOek8mBdZieVOXhvZ-2riENVBd-n3txsZ2Gx7CfYG9pILHRgOEzAVrRQ3bLfFUsb7SmoD-2kalg/s4032/IMG_2046.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6AhHj0-HWJWEQV8E6Rr14T33VJvk4xG4YvsY_CN1adJwXoaq0i01P44p4MtInlEA-7uCNU2BgzivphFJU6x6xfTaZ_D2MRDAFeKXg1Y1gOek8mBdZieVOXhvZ-2riENVBd-n3txsZ2Gx7CfYG9pILHRgOEzAVrRQ3bLfFUsb7SmoD-2kalg/w400-h300/IMG_2046.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWaSHfYuWmj4NSCpN-TJ6EOz8uQ2_0dOKCEp4YW1kW1XIIyKm3NPYkUdcDu7ZOtl8metwZ18-JeiW-hyAqZfJX9Ou_Qdk42HGsZcsDZvJ_AhuRbI9fH5vGfMt6svWi9gdYpad2AwQafJAzdLP3g3HHDp_tNm0PuGdb-8gD4Tn5rGQ-qvW7g/s4032/IMG_1533.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWaSHfYuWmj4NSCpN-TJ6EOz8uQ2_0dOKCEp4YW1kW1XIIyKm3NPYkUdcDu7ZOtl8metwZ18-JeiW-hyAqZfJX9Ou_Qdk42HGsZcsDZvJ_AhuRbI9fH5vGfMt6svWi9gdYpad2AwQafJAzdLP3g3HHDp_tNm0PuGdb-8gD4Tn5rGQ-qvW7g/w400-h300/IMG_1533.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p>Then it was back to the apartment for a snack and, ultimately, lunch, after which we headed out to explore the city before the heat became too unbearable. Toulouse is quite a lovely city; we both like it better than Bordeaux. It is somehow less crowded and more open, with more green space and lots of tall plane trees shading the major avenues and boulevards. We took in the Théâtre de la Capitole, the Basilique Saint-Sernin (the most impressive church we've seen on this trip), the cooling Jardin Japonais, which though filled with people escaping the heat did not seem overly crowded, then up along the Garonne past the Pont Saint-Pierre and Pont Neuf, and back along Avenue de Metz and home to rest and get out of the heat. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJjVodCLJREERBpzZH7SM1H9Nf0e2vAFSVQk9YOrBm9w_hI9s7UhOKsYwMevvt_gj40DNEX6xzh3bBcT6KAE1pnWkdmibnpLAA_pUM0tRjFpWJM9MAa3GnS8rLrK89-P_aI8xyUfkHF_ZZwFFcX3A4-UJK9q5lH4-ozPFWx-lzbhuTuyg8Q/s4032/IMG_2057.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJjVodCLJREERBpzZH7SM1H9Nf0e2vAFSVQk9YOrBm9w_hI9s7UhOKsYwMevvt_gj40DNEX6xzh3bBcT6KAE1pnWkdmibnpLAA_pUM0tRjFpWJM9MAa3GnS8rLrK89-P_aI8xyUfkHF_ZZwFFcX3A4-UJK9q5lH4-ozPFWx-lzbhuTuyg8Q/w300-h400/IMG_2057.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1r5cVO5XvwOgR6P0ccad_FDnHVRUHOBO-DoIIomxVAECmHO9EYPplIntGlSkVYBxE9FH0bSFAznQ53g7p_Nfu6jCQI8x70HWxgJ6NjK760VznGM_-veyoDw19bT_MgLvq3b8Q1px1tgT8qyKkbxoM-e3J5B1j6hgco81MaSS03Xs__IjBeQ/s4032/IMG_2058.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1r5cVO5XvwOgR6P0ccad_FDnHVRUHOBO-DoIIomxVAECmHO9EYPplIntGlSkVYBxE9FH0bSFAznQ53g7p_Nfu6jCQI8x70HWxgJ6NjK760VznGM_-veyoDw19bT_MgLvq3b8Q1px1tgT8qyKkbxoM-e3J5B1j6hgco81MaSS03Xs__IjBeQ/w400-h300/IMG_2058.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPiq2twIfwyUPaooQP0dt75tQbdbEN2-x4LrKSW5FTsLqEKtLasEj2gcXU3gVb3kJbjBJDjYDwjLRQpbAr8AWYX-6ZsvsBc6lGdy6xa_inmkgO2yUThwfdKnaZK4UAFaTpmOKbqvpa3ne_Tk2_wuhcDZUoAJTsR4a_5rD4yFR34mpr0L-5qw/s4032/IMG_2062.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPiq2twIfwyUPaooQP0dt75tQbdbEN2-x4LrKSW5FTsLqEKtLasEj2gcXU3gVb3kJbjBJDjYDwjLRQpbAr8AWYX-6ZsvsBc6lGdy6xa_inmkgO2yUThwfdKnaZK4UAFaTpmOKbqvpa3ne_Tk2_wuhcDZUoAJTsR4a_5rD4yFR34mpr0L-5qw/w400-h300/IMG_2062.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p>After a welcome beer and a snack (and perhaps a nap), we made dinner and then went out again, hoping to wander through the Grand rond and Jardin des plantes, but both were "exceptionally" closed for public safety reasons. After enquiring after a local passerby, it turns out that the civic authorities close the parks at the slightest chance of high winds (there are thunderstorms forecast for this evening, but they have yet to materialize), so we walked along the esplanade north and south of the Grand rond, cut over to the Canal du Midi, and found our way home. Tomorrow morning, we pack for the flight home and then do our last ride in France.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br />petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-32678929942125922742022-05-20T16:04:00.000-04:002022-05-20T16:04:12.857-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 19: Some days, a good pastry is all you needAs usual, we have been extremely lucky when it comes to the weather. In all our touring, over almost 10 years now, we've only had to ride through serious rain twice that I remember, plus a few times where we had to deal with brief showers. On this trip, we've seen literally only a few drops of rain. It rained overnight in Chaumont-sur-Loire, but by the morning, all that remained was the wet pavement and a forecast for generally sunny skies. We were on the bikes by 9 am, as usual and headed down the road to today's destination of Beaugency. <div><br /></div><div>Our first stop was Candé-sur-Beuvron, a tiny little town with a patisserie that, judging by the way our Chaumont host's eyes lit up when describing it, was more worthy of investigation than that town's tiny chateau. The <i>Loire à Vélo</i>/EV6 route often takes tortuous detours through towns and cities to take cyclists past what are deemed worthy sightseeing stops. On this occasion, we decided to take a direct route to the patisserie and bypass the chateau and church. And boy oh boy, what a good decision that was. We bought some bread, a sandwich for later, a chocolatine (which, now that we are north of some arbitrary border in France, is called "pain au chocolat") and something called a cruffin—a sort of puff pastry muffin filled with crème patissière and jam. When we stopped later for second breakfast, we saved it for last, and holy... I don't know that I've ever had such a perfect pastry. The fact that it survived 8 kilometres in a bicycle pannier is something in itself. But the blend of textures, the perfect amount of sweetness (i.e., not too sweet), the absolute perfection of the crème patissière... it was mind blowing. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfgk_dCHN7hqerdmCzwyboIOOo6jz-r-UENSV4RjFI1WOT6ukO7gWFSifFvbQLaMwrbYtJqhgWoIG30PA4z5P7sbuncZyvWcmFEkERcnnveFZ_MhWsO2Ww3rfHg9yy5aM4h7Cn52fkFAPW3swAs6ujvDF-CD-_JCwj8Vsv1cZo6dT83KzYyA/s4032/IMG_2006.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfgk_dCHN7hqerdmCzwyboIOOo6jz-r-UENSV4RjFI1WOT6ukO7gWFSifFvbQLaMwrbYtJqhgWoIG30PA4z5P7sbuncZyvWcmFEkERcnnveFZ_MhWsO2Ww3rfHg9yy5aM4h7Cn52fkFAPW3swAs6ujvDF-CD-_JCwj8Vsv1cZo6dT83KzYyA/w400-h300/IMG_2006.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sonia using the Merlin app to identify birds by their songs</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkq9w8EcjUQ8xvTvHi6zoxQWACRhqz8jPDSOMGmpRDGE0_TnTGVgR0BZFYzJaLtW-_KrL2Q1dblnnmAL9yZZcC_igD3i432bkA9PdVWl4bghfNG9I5IqFNhpdLy_Y-c19tTPcSkZQGD2h_QlDby0dQ97DSlRIC0cplVTGOeGI-BvlgAj7oxQ/s4032/IMG_2008.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkq9w8EcjUQ8xvTvHi6zoxQWACRhqz8jPDSOMGmpRDGE0_TnTGVgR0BZFYzJaLtW-_KrL2Q1dblnnmAL9yZZcC_igD3i432bkA9PdVWl4bghfNG9I5IqFNhpdLy_Y-c19tTPcSkZQGD2h_QlDby0dQ97DSlRIC0cplVTGOeGI-BvlgAj7oxQ/w300-h400/IMG_2008.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Presenting the cruffin (a terrible name for a mind-blowing pastry)</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkuprhgtxefb-dhGM9TW3wN14B9KZqQ0MkV06-kUdAsKfWumkCmv2X_S-UVBxAgry9RFwoPtParKoeejkQaGLGvGYK7H-VAWdrYhvVKlgSydZyILdS-4IjIA6IF2bxLEo4L1uoBDj1Zbniq8sEYQPXC3X7S2X-lvBZhWmjJullKeyV_34JQ/s4032/IMG_2009.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkuprhgtxefb-dhGM9TW3wN14B9KZqQ0MkV06-kUdAsKfWumkCmv2X_S-UVBxAgry9RFwoPtParKoeejkQaGLGvGYK7H-VAWdrYhvVKlgSydZyILdS-4IjIA6IF2bxLEo4L1uoBDj1Zbniq8sEYQPXC3X7S2X-lvBZhWmjJullKeyV_34JQ/w300-h400/IMG_2009.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">🤯</td></tr></tbody></table><div>After that highlight, we pushed on to Blois. The weather had cleared a little and we had a pretty stiff tailwind propelling us along at over 20 km/h at times, so we made good time, soon crossing the Loire and pointing our bikes up the hill to the chateau. On our very first trip to France in 1992, when Sonia was the tour accompanist for a choir, we apparently attended a sound and light show in the courtyard of the chateau, but I have absolutely no memory of this. It is a lovely chateau though. Then it was back down to the river and downwind. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4FQPKVqyc_SZanFkDGONOCscsqHXWE0sBSvkkP2gUsjQ6Bbte9jK6xZEXzZjJsJ-h58I-SbEkJk3tD5E247MNH9PzBEy7490MR935c_UEE2d_n3PD8-OqYRIOwokkrkePpL9XXKGo1WvlgVeZnEaCHMT52CLjLqNtW3Qxrzk3s02qU_EXQ/s4032/IMG_1507.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4FQPKVqyc_SZanFkDGONOCscsqHXWE0sBSvkkP2gUsjQ6Bbte9jK6xZEXzZjJsJ-h58I-SbEkJk3tD5E247MNH9PzBEy7490MR935c_UEE2d_n3PD8-OqYRIOwokkrkePpL9XXKGo1WvlgVeZnEaCHMT52CLjLqNtW3Qxrzk3s02qU_EXQ/w400-h300/IMG_1507.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9l0Xd-zmR7eClMKJgUxzuHa8s06tI8uyF1KV9iBgErnFo0mwnZ6sAYjPtiauIZ1smUKk8XivSiUPr4izA54d5K_Vcm6u7bbKgNL9nk8fJHEbniBmse7NxqPDvCRna7Wu_7BKk3BbPSur0oV_gTFOzUZf79zbJJGQj7aMx5QE8eFn2MOCKgA/s4032/IMG_1508.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9l0Xd-zmR7eClMKJgUxzuHa8s06tI8uyF1KV9iBgErnFo0mwnZ6sAYjPtiauIZ1smUKk8XivSiUPr4izA54d5K_Vcm6u7bbKgNL9nk8fJHEbniBmse7NxqPDvCRna7Wu_7BKk3BbPSur0oV_gTFOzUZf79zbJJGQj7aMx5QE8eFn2MOCKgA/w400-h300/IMG_1508.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div>This part of the ride was very nice, but though it was still mostly overcast and cooler than yesterday, it was also very humid, so we were a tad warm. We passed some lovely little towns right up against the Loire, but then the path veered onto a levee, and we were zooming above the surrounding lowlands, the river on our right, with the wind urging us on. By now we were getting quite hungry, and we found a nice little picnic area adjacent to a small lake to eat our lunch and rest with nearly 40 kilometres under our wheels. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIlL42Jio54XNcwTgjjzFeWEhz0_XZc5rjmoYzggooK6zcg_kjifGizMs-U4IoZA12HTblTa27LdHEHxh9FlBDeSfxhoNg4OhbgsXvUJkUfxszdIEzuVek_2xZDgK0oEG9nrlwW4w6QJg_wusdh34nFiesuAyaKaV2SWyxYuZVrTALD1RIfQ/s4032/IMG_2025.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIlL42Jio54XNcwTgjjzFeWEhz0_XZc5rjmoYzggooK6zcg_kjifGizMs-U4IoZA12HTblTa27LdHEHxh9FlBDeSfxhoNg4OhbgsXvUJkUfxszdIEzuVek_2xZDgK0oEG9nrlwW4w6QJg_wusdh34nFiesuAyaKaV2SWyxYuZVrTALD1RIfQ/w400-h300/IMG_2025.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div>The final stretch, to Beaugency, went well, and we arrived at about 3:30, but there was a miscommunication with the B&B we had booked, and we couldn't get in until 6. Ugh. So we wandered around the town, which is fine but nothing special (though apparently Joan of Arc saw fit to liberate it during the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Beaugency_(1429)">Battle of Beaugency</a>), and found a little bar to hang out and pass the time. We finally got into our lodgings in a well-preserved early-16th-century building and run by the town's deputy mayor of all people. After a quick shower, we went out to dinner at the same place we had hung out at earlier and had quite a nice meal. And though it's still quite early, I think we will be snoring soon enough. We've done 254 km in the last 4 days, and average of 64 km/day—quite a bit more than we're used to. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnhfsUGWXw6mTpzyVmRixBzLbFlWQaoezP14GbvAs5P1NA-zatRuz5Hwb5mOmeYtc3R-43_jYp2NJnzcI7RFDrOdwwJmaAAx6Ih9bncHOkpjWF9ADvjNEiDA_b1KlA-0sOxqo3IYtKQWvPxR15Fv4YQHpEO4ZR9ZqLpRww94HA6yjNZpIqw/s4032/IMG_2028.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnhfsUGWXw6mTpzyVmRixBzLbFlWQaoezP14GbvAs5P1NA-zatRuz5Hwb5mOmeYtc3R-43_jYp2NJnzcI7RFDrOdwwJmaAAx6Ih9bncHOkpjWF9ADvjNEiDA_b1KlA-0sOxqo3IYtKQWvPxR15Fv4YQHpEO4ZR9ZqLpRww94HA6yjNZpIqw/w300-h400/IMG_2028.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notre-Dame de Beaugency Cathedral</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98uqJc7y-4y8O33rrHc7zszi7V-dpkqEXAm0KxPjPII1TZjJlLIjDKEMqddtFoIU6V2-EAEtwP7JaMN-h3t_fIztVbiAkRIpYpf32pSqV00K6J277_0AZX6VEXdwpij4v9iOeyIwTy8TC0c-uEln-UHIayOM42oavqxyfLfL_66YKQI6Tiw/s4032/IMG_2029.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98uqJc7y-4y8O33rrHc7zszi7V-dpkqEXAm0KxPjPII1TZjJlLIjDKEMqddtFoIU6V2-EAEtwP7JaMN-h3t_fIztVbiAkRIpYpf32pSqV00K6J277_0AZX6VEXdwpij4v9iOeyIwTy8TC0c-uEln-UHIayOM42oavqxyfLfL_66YKQI6Tiw/w300-h400/IMG_2029.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tour de César (donjon) of the Château de Beaugency </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-72751842211825693682022-05-19T16:43:00.001-04:002022-05-19T16:43:52.310-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 18: A hard but rewarding day along the Loire<p>Throughout this trip, I've been reflecting to Sonia that I've been trouble finding the joy in bicycle touring that I usually have, and I've also been having trouble figuring out why. Surely a not insignificant portion of it is that the process of discharging the accumulated stress of the past 2+ years, with Covid (and its myriad insidious knock-on effects) and the death of my in-laws, which has taken quite a lot of time to accomplish. There has also been a low-level dissatisfaction with my new bike, but that's a small thing. And there has been the fact that each of the first two weeks of this trip had a number of stretches of riding that I don't want to say was monotonous, but was, let's say, very similar day after day. </p><p>But during this leg along the Loire Valley, I've been getting my mojo back, which is wonderful, because I was worried that I had lost the thrill of cycle touring. And I realize that one of the things I've been missing—one of the things I love most about cycle touring—is simply cycling through the countryside and farmland. None of which we did much of during the first two weeks. But the smells and vistas one experiences riding through farmland and vineyards are a balm for the soul, and I've missed it so much! </p><p>We left Savonnières this morning at 9, stopped at the excellent local patisserie for a second-breakfast treat, and then set off down the road, the weather deliciously cool and, for the first time on this leg, with a tail wind. So we made excellent time getting to Tours, where we had our mid-morning snack and tea ceremony at a park on what we would call the South Shore but what the French call the Rive Gauche. Then, a short delay. I felt that my rear wheel was wobbling and, knowing that I had a spoke that tended to work its way loose, I proceeded to check my spokes. Finding several that were quite loose, I took out my spoke key and tightened all I could find. Alas, in the process, I overtightened several of them and managed to untrue my wheel, causing my brakes to rub. So I took all the panniers (etc.) off the bike, flipped it over, and learned, in that moment, how to true a bicycle wheel. (Of course, the few drops of rain that we have had in this whole trip chose to fall just then, but it was only a few drops.) I knew the principle of how to true a wheel, but I had never done it before, so I was perhaps unreasonably proud of myself when, after about 15 minutes, I had gotten my wheel true again and was back on the road. </p><p>We road through Tours, stopping in at the pretty rundown cathedral, finding a bakery for a sandwich, and taking a perfunctory picture of the chateau before getting out of town. From there it was down the Loire to Montlouis-sur-Loire, where found a market just as it was closing down and bought some veggies, cheese, and fresh pasta for our supper, and after which we once again climbed out of the valley and into the upland vineyards.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI6uMYkNLgQbKa2QsubOYE_B0Fv8Yb1VZP0llSeuWujGPyt3aPDl3vAV4yOkdm3zuGdHQg_QTCXrkRnCuRakFrLPdjcUnOQXNalHGPKrAKorGINag_IgKen1FQwZv3tBoBzbV0kGyJTBC_TorU7hYMKJOSxLJ0WT4MiI2bfSRkVjEpPtcv9A/s4032/IMG_1977.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI6uMYkNLgQbKa2QsubOYE_B0Fv8Yb1VZP0llSeuWujGPyt3aPDl3vAV4yOkdm3zuGdHQg_QTCXrkRnCuRakFrLPdjcUnOQXNalHGPKrAKorGINag_IgKen1FQwZv3tBoBzbV0kGyJTBC_TorU7hYMKJOSxLJ0WT4MiI2bfSRkVjEpPtcv9A/w300-h400/IMG_1977.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Château de Tours, of course</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtbIgQk4qsJxYhpnBH-9fh9s3-rq3VXzquRPL6t7n5nZt65aNOnkGKd_Tx1hG1PDRihwtFS3lz7ZrkO-rvlnhBaZWStrlqqPwM2raCd4kisYN3Nmtm871uz7GNPFLFtmo_PS4uylNuiywhzJlWuqmmXOe9YeBhvBt6a7PcdC-ahnMCMJYvw/s4032/IMG_1978.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtbIgQk4qsJxYhpnBH-9fh9s3-rq3VXzquRPL6t7n5nZt65aNOnkGKd_Tx1hG1PDRihwtFS3lz7ZrkO-rvlnhBaZWStrlqqPwM2raCd4kisYN3Nmtm871uz7GNPFLFtmo_PS4uylNuiywhzJlWuqmmXOe9YeBhvBt6a7PcdC-ahnMCMJYvw/w400-h300/IMG_1978.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5VYrzMh3cv3rxAAm9ZhZPpwFtY3htZDiRX3dg5xQjCDd2uhmKoCmcoC7Fk6Y4Mi1mXpDr0CPpYHCQ3OksIwUrFEWk-xo1X4NeFVGRZu6nwRSnNjM2g-v1naayCGNYI808L7t8SsmoJY-d1MhSWtrOUylukTOK5dTzdRwxoFJo-QOzjnnKw/s4032/IMG_1979.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5VYrzMh3cv3rxAAm9ZhZPpwFtY3htZDiRX3dg5xQjCDd2uhmKoCmcoC7Fk6Y4Mi1mXpDr0CPpYHCQ3OksIwUrFEWk-xo1X4NeFVGRZu6nwRSnNjM2g-v1naayCGNYI808L7t8SsmoJY-d1MhSWtrOUylukTOK5dTzdRwxoFJo-QOzjnnKw/w400-h300/IMG_1979.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQWqKYWZ94OEx3hApq80ib9I3qtTC6AU85L5uddUfSFnNxBBp9vIBkF3hxLj00R01LMaPY80RGVFpZ0auzOa24GnE9QKu3cygB1lIfDU0FIsy09AZqlGg92dzfY3h99U6J1uaNJq55NTaThc38jhuBRyKCpclZd9Z_NaNuYbl-JWS3WHr0g/s4032/IMG_1490.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQWqKYWZ94OEx3hApq80ib9I3qtTC6AU85L5uddUfSFnNxBBp9vIBkF3hxLj00R01LMaPY80RGVFpZ0auzOa24GnE9QKu3cygB1lIfDU0FIsy09AZqlGg92dzfY3h99U6J1uaNJq55NTaThc38jhuBRyKCpclZd9Z_NaNuYbl-JWS3WHr0g/w400-h300/IMG_1490.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLc5-WpY1nI-T1k9rD3J3RtPTmMMDm6JHWqlsh5PTtPE4kXikoFn_y3wI4BxskMoFYHIH0tf7m7Xacup39P1dU38QQzhJp5S00_JuaZBA9byoE6AcsenKx3c9M6RhpEDpYk_dOy8Qb1YR4OHUdxZGUAvhS61OKZ78Q9OeNqrSkkxINDtNhOw/s4032/IMG_1981.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLc5-WpY1nI-T1k9rD3J3RtPTmMMDm6JHWqlsh5PTtPE4kXikoFn_y3wI4BxskMoFYHIH0tf7m7Xacup39P1dU38QQzhJp5S00_JuaZBA9byoE6AcsenKx3c9M6RhpEDpYk_dOy8Qb1YR4OHUdxZGUAvhS61OKZ78Q9OeNqrSkkxINDtNhOw/w400-h300/IMG_1981.jpeg" width="400" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRXN0rlkKQnGdIMQ0qCPPhsBUBpGrtxlspPriIgmvmdbaPCW0QrWx-4dFEjBvlxmvkrr96JnLAPchAWFoRN42wyGzEL0v-OijaQR7ndmYvAugctaerydtK6cbwpUYrntITHfU_obN4L3T6_IesteVtYD_vooGXeuHLbCLDqz_raYKkYvEaQ/s4032/IMG_1983.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRXN0rlkKQnGdIMQ0qCPPhsBUBpGrtxlspPriIgmvmdbaPCW0QrWx-4dFEjBvlxmvkrr96JnLAPchAWFoRN42wyGzEL0v-OijaQR7ndmYvAugctaerydtK6cbwpUYrntITHfU_obN4L3T6_IesteVtYD_vooGXeuHLbCLDqz_raYKkYvEaQ/w400-h300/IMG_1983.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>Unlike yesterday, benches and picnic tables abounded along the EV6, and we found the perfect spot for lunch shaded by a fruit tree of some sort and surrounded by grape vines. Paradise! Then we dove back down to the river and followed it to the town of Amboise, which seemed absolutely lovely. Alas, we reached it during the very hottest part of the day, and the noise of the town, combined with our fatigue and having to stop at a grocery store for a few last provisions, sapped any patience we had for looking at the chateau or the gardens or the house where Leonardo da Vinci once lived and ultimately died. These tours are definitely not about sightseeing, except in the most serendipitous of ways.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6F84eCt2Ogfz8RH0Po6rzuPImW7XLrPuia_YdvxR8lxlZVk9cBRuCRrXLHGWH3gDj_IvemBRg-65AixR_v6LoXQMiAy4c5EI7xW79D_kQHj3bekTA_PDP4wstxUUo8F_yWVR_4Y0N22FjDNbJxLvHQgVCvfmIcqjnpuIcwCM1Zj2THWbC7w/s4032/IMG_1985.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6F84eCt2Ogfz8RH0Po6rzuPImW7XLrPuia_YdvxR8lxlZVk9cBRuCRrXLHGWH3gDj_IvemBRg-65AixR_v6LoXQMiAy4c5EI7xW79D_kQHj3bekTA_PDP4wstxUUo8F_yWVR_4Y0N22FjDNbJxLvHQgVCvfmIcqjnpuIcwCM1Zj2THWbC7w/w400-h300/IMG_1985.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p>The EV6 then took us back into the uplands for the last stretch of this long day, which ended up being a solid 70 km. It was almost as lovely as the earlier part of the day, but by now we were eager to get to our Airbnb. We stopped briefly at a winery to pick up a bottle of local wine for supper (which turned out to be a fairly meh rosé), and coasted back down to the river to our lodging for the night in Chaumont-sur-Loire, which is quite nice. Chaumont has what appears to be a very nice chateau, but it is barely visible from the road. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTDRXISSdVUuyMtMysWeV83XVzirhXtYGyt-D9RkwnmItDrwo678sQFxV9XO9TvAOOHcoT9de0mad7hubp3rPMRllSTgxnkv_rRNDIaaZwRPTp8yKo7q_sG6ldO9mzT6rUwhXbM8u5aEE92xhtduFxbqdz6C9zc7klkhVpicdDn47MUCo11Q/s4032/IMG_1990.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTDRXISSdVUuyMtMysWeV83XVzirhXtYGyt-D9RkwnmItDrwo678sQFxV9XO9TvAOOHcoT9de0mad7hubp3rPMRllSTgxnkv_rRNDIaaZwRPTp8yKo7q_sG6ldO9mzT6rUwhXbM8u5aEE92xhtduFxbqdz6C9zc7klkhVpicdDn47MUCo11Q/w400-h300/IMG_1990.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our bikes safely stowed for the evening</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-78607780328727510872022-05-18T15:37:00.001-04:002022-05-18T15:37:33.111-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 17: heat and contrasts<p>In several spots, the EV6 offers different routes along the Loire Valley, depending on whether you want to ride near the river or through the uplands; there are also loops that take you to various chateaux. After our experience on the Rive Droite yesterday, this morning we decided to try the <i>Loire en Vélo par les côteaux</i>, which goes steeply uphill from Saumur but then flattens out as you reach the plateau above the valley. </p><p>It was a tough way to start the day, but once we got up there, the views were lovely, and we were riding along country roads through vineyards. Absolutely gorgeous. The path dipped down to the valley floor to take us through Turquant and its strange troglodyte houses built right into the cliffs. Then another hard climb to the uplands before coming down to the valley floor for good at Montsoreau (which I have jokingly been calling Mon Snorro), where we found a perfect spot for second breakfast.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZV5acUwo7_MnP_GyMS9LgUvZ-vSEuGH36VQ_g8LEIjgP4oidzu6BDAVNPzQDMcP1wstfHS2Ii4ByAmQXui6EPk4lxsoKtEqNhy_189lJADHs0fxF24PVPf50YW4R_rKpEqg8erf1iIE_aNpQw7esQpnDNnnzGPoH0TSRtwGihVFuR2SWDA/s4032/IMG_1958.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZV5acUwo7_MnP_GyMS9LgUvZ-vSEuGH36VQ_g8LEIjgP4oidzu6BDAVNPzQDMcP1wstfHS2Ii4ByAmQXui6EPk4lxsoKtEqNhy_189lJADHs0fxF24PVPf50YW4R_rKpEqg8erf1iIE_aNpQw7esQpnDNnnzGPoH0TSRtwGihVFuR2SWDA/w400-h300/IMG_1958.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTk-fMa0kcD-QUiZPWwy_HeJRCgys1bMMZlcMtSFh3Z5SbXNC6YyIZxj-A0bU3PeZHePn7cffZ5C92912yWp5pO98TgLCAeqK5Y0K99F6Ju0y0-5upKCgQ5oX3ADKJKF-sS0CriQYYYJOSl5jgH47-chbPIp4idBaFN52-NMNmyaVPWeZ7iA/s4032/IMG_1960.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTk-fMa0kcD-QUiZPWwy_HeJRCgys1bMMZlcMtSFh3Z5SbXNC6YyIZxj-A0bU3PeZHePn7cffZ5C92912yWp5pO98TgLCAeqK5Y0K99F6Ju0y0-5upKCgQ5oX3ADKJKF-sS0CriQYYYJOSl5jgH47-chbPIp4idBaFN52-NMNmyaVPWeZ7iA/w400-h300/IMG_1960.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5zkemSj98TVw82pLl1v4dritiyOBL93MjPbK0F6JG850BvFZX-h2N8nm80MM0vcH2Ed4qO8xXs50IQuwAeab0iZh3KMbaIsT_5a_jEu9OqTQwCCHL9ZHVICUQxVaEh2AZXs3msz3o9xGgOPIHMGXjeielluDd9ksBTXyv08vta0CZaz6Xg/s4032/IMG_1481.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5zkemSj98TVw82pLl1v4dritiyOBL93MjPbK0F6JG850BvFZX-h2N8nm80MM0vcH2Ed4qO8xXs50IQuwAeab0iZh3KMbaIsT_5a_jEu9OqTQwCCHL9ZHVICUQxVaEh2AZXs3msz3o9xGgOPIHMGXjeielluDd9ksBTXyv08vta0CZaz6Xg/w400-h300/IMG_1481.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhV-l98g6yMeUKkUqCTASw_ORQ2w0GACdBMpK9I34I02DJ6sVXSiJA49kxqhEwNMPCtIJoWrsrygZS8RdVsWEgRkx22M9KLsPmDJdhDYUROHvVOg3eI9gMfNse3P-ksBU1BM2OMHX-l9KpZbdQt49XNDSc4-9e_QGvyhiBGbDD5B_PWLtGw/s4032/IMG_1966.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhV-l98g6yMeUKkUqCTASw_ORQ2w0GACdBMpK9I34I02DJ6sVXSiJA49kxqhEwNMPCtIJoWrsrygZS8RdVsWEgRkx22M9KLsPmDJdhDYUROHvVOg3eI9gMfNse3P-ksBU1BM2OMHX-l9KpZbdQt49XNDSc4-9e_QGvyhiBGbDD5B_PWLtGw/w400-h300/IMG_1966.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p>The rest of the ride was along the river, either through forest or along a road immediately adjacent to the Loire. Beautiful as it is, it would be even nicer if there were more benches and picnic tables along the route. We had to ride quite a ways before finding a little park with some shade where we could eat lunch. Alas, the few picnic tables were either occupied or in the sun, so we set down our picnic blanket under a tree and sat our tired butts onto the hard, hard ground. (I know, I know. Somewhere, someone is playing a tiny violin.) </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK5tkZhvdpLUtxf4bO47Dj_lhMQ2nLiM3t4_7oll0zv0heXohGrrOZxTHhgqUt9KhTUNZwtIpchIV4t8CiFUHCXkWXCYOwfJ3IMgHEBb7kc3ChzCfVb-UMY00G_GtTU4BpzlBapCUft9R5P-xGjUeilfM8eYF5Ps6hmZqRG0g3nBd_QdDiNA/s3936/IMG_1969.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2952" data-original-width="3936" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK5tkZhvdpLUtxf4bO47Dj_lhMQ2nLiM3t4_7oll0zv0heXohGrrOZxTHhgqUt9KhTUNZwtIpchIV4t8CiFUHCXkWXCYOwfJ3IMgHEBb7kc3ChzCfVb-UMY00G_GtTU4BpzlBapCUft9R5P-xGjUeilfM8eYF5Ps6hmZqRG0g3nBd_QdDiNA/w400-h300/IMG_1969.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqjbBS6UmwZ2su1YNy3rDV_WQB37ZhiKFB_g2gQYAw6YJ9ewCTkAeYR477wBLVw2eQakk16nXTw78tcQvymzzg7hnrLqz4fu4LS8WtiZjvy4LY7gY2p0TvtlXlv-q8orQ37el_q9bO591dNm8JeUkxdRQy7CLRITlT66OCdfe74LGzNXE7wA/s4032/IMG_1971.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqjbBS6UmwZ2su1YNy3rDV_WQB37ZhiKFB_g2gQYAw6YJ9ewCTkAeYR477wBLVw2eQakk16nXTw78tcQvymzzg7hnrLqz4fu4LS8WtiZjvy4LY7gY2p0TvtlXlv-q8orQ37el_q9bO591dNm8JeUkxdRQy7CLRITlT66OCdfe74LGzNXE7wA/w400-h300/IMG_1971.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Yfubey13Ayb0FNvnmm7pCqBN-CxBVNDxwqsz4JwfGDhgW6OFM8VIxODdhOtA-yuj1n4W2NicCaNY7n9CKZl2QmxsiLGKHLoa7DIBDIm6JOz578lk9-ufywxP6X9p9WOI0CYEb-8Xj-68ug2EVFC_7ZnEm-F_OSeOpfVZzm8NvIHM5k2LNg/s4032/IMG_1972.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Yfubey13Ayb0FNvnmm7pCqBN-CxBVNDxwqsz4JwfGDhgW6OFM8VIxODdhOtA-yuj1n4W2NicCaNY7n9CKZl2QmxsiLGKHLoa7DIBDIm6JOz578lk9-ufywxP6X9p9WOI0CYEb-8Xj-68ug2EVFC_7ZnEm-F_OSeOpfVZzm8NvIHM5k2LNg/w400-h300/IMG_1972.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p>After lunch, we embarked on the final 20ish kilometres to our destination of Savonnières. The day was getting very hot, though the wind didn't seem quite so dry today. Just short of our destination, at Villandry, we found a welcome roadside bar and had a refreshing drink under the patio umbrellas. But so eager were we to get to our Airbnb to have a shower and rest, that we didn't even bother to look at the lovely chateau in Villandry. </p><p>Seen one, seen 'em all?</p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-78073698187001899722022-05-17T16:22:00.001-04:002022-05-25T21:24:24.703-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Days 15 & 16: a bunch of trains, and a hot and winding road<p>I didn't bother to blog yesterday because, well, it was basically a travel day. We left the Airbnb in Saint-Jean-de-Luz, headed to the train station, and began a longish day of train travel that, all things considered, went pretty well. We took a regional (TER) train from Saint-Jean-de-Luz to Bordeaux and then transferred to an Intercité train to Nantes. The difference between the two types of trains is that you can take a bike on a TER for free without a reservation (though this varies by <i>département</i>) —the not insignificant caveat being that there are limited spaces and if there's no room for your bike, the conductor may not let you board. Fortunately, Saint-Jean-de-Luz is the second stop on that particular line, so when we got on, there were still some spaces. But from what we understood, there was some serious drama at one stop. Fortunately, we only heard tell of it in our car at the front of the train. </p><p>The Intercité trains have limited spaces for bikes, and you have to reserve them in advance when you book your ticket, which means at least you know you have a spot. So, after a 70 minute layover at Bordeaux, we boarded our train to Nantes, where we and the one other cyclist who booked a spot basically had a compartment all to ourselves. The train arrived at 6 pm, and after booking another train for the next day (more on that later), we headed to our hotel, settled in, went out to dinner, had a short walk, and crashed. A long day that took us a long way. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGVH6bDaVYWJxsnP3wOTed4P_E_1THEkNUm33pQZQBxFqsTlWEuRFlfkojzwqZRURRVurMPIy4PP1CyM9YH1xc5iSmAZ3YpC0RU-NJXOXGilR_CxP0hanWjdBfs6zj5oZk_N3AX-tvRw-dy9N_EYjUXECYGsMVT92GOigDjIvIcyg5Bm_Uw/s4032/IMG_1926.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGVH6bDaVYWJxsnP3wOTed4P_E_1THEkNUm33pQZQBxFqsTlWEuRFlfkojzwqZRURRVurMPIy4PP1CyM9YH1xc5iSmAZ3YpC0RU-NJXOXGilR_CxP0hanWjdBfs6zj5oZk_N3AX-tvRw-dy9N_EYjUXECYGsMVT92GOigDjIvIcyg5Bm_Uw/w400-h300/IMG_1926.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Château des ducs de Bretagne in Nantes</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>This morning, we once again left our lodging and headed to the train station to catch the 9:13 train to Angers. And this is where we officially started the third leg of our bike trip. </p><p>After some hemming and hawing about what to do and where to go in this third week of the trip, we decided to head north and do at least some of the Loire Valley. I had heard great things about it, and this was essentially confirmed by every French cycle tourist we met. So though it involved a fair bit of train travel, here we are. Now we have five days to get to Orléans on Saturday afternoon, where we take another Intercité, already reserved, back to Toulouse. Nantes to Orleans is just a little too far for us to do in five days, hence the train ride to Angers this morning. </p><p>It took us 6 or 7 kilometres just to get out of town, but once we hit the Loire, I was in my happy place again, riding along quiet country roads through farmland, past lovely, tidy little farmhouses, through minuscule hamlets. We had second breakfast and tea beside the Loire in the little town of La Daguenière and then continued along the river, following the EV6. We had lunch in a tiny triangle of shade—attracting cyclists like flies—behind the church in the town of Le Thoureil. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7EkSvImouL8LBf0Yg6Uo3AVcYuFLixaZbfWsAd50ntgRQ-9cnDHgPnIMQShkh8d6KvLt5CQkGVGGsY8Aqw5SXIZWYPYITIL-0zil2iot38XTe8kK66wdiKybetgEDeZz5XGKNOvvDtI6vaLlBjcXBOIjShN--g7T0sp3yGHzanDlygaK49w/s4032/IMG_1935.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7EkSvImouL8LBf0Yg6Uo3AVcYuFLixaZbfWsAd50ntgRQ-9cnDHgPnIMQShkh8d6KvLt5CQkGVGGsY8Aqw5SXIZWYPYITIL-0zil2iot38XTe8kK66wdiKybetgEDeZz5XGKNOvvDtI6vaLlBjcXBOIjShN--g7T0sp3yGHzanDlygaK49w/w400-h300/IMG_1935.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second breakfast</td></tr></tbody></table><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFPUXbVIyOoiMzR_yb1iliTDDdBLuyPTYHTIfRuMJz3ELgGWJmokIkubjUKzPlFgd9vZ1oRTdUBYh5PYQW8g-HiK8SigEBE-zuhlGZEDDL5WagaC5e7qvoJFhUr5_9qYojLL8pBtBN52DN1IY1kUvKBs2WFaHHjzO3RNtmum5EfWY7NEmng/s4032/IMG_1940.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFPUXbVIyOoiMzR_yb1iliTDDdBLuyPTYHTIfRuMJz3ELgGWJmokIkubjUKzPlFgd9vZ1oRTdUBYh5PYQW8g-HiK8SigEBE-zuhlGZEDDL5WagaC5e7qvoJFhUr5_9qYojLL8pBtBN52DN1IY1kUvKBs2WFaHHjzO3RNtmum5EfWY7NEmng/w400-h300/IMG_1940.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch</td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ShltEVrES-AmzeyeMpx08PZ9EzLYICdL2ylq-P1Bd9RgzJbGJFyt0C4GhlKhXfvDoQZV43BoYeA8hFmg4lhIPUUftJ8gxy0j8lgwL1xADmqxwxlTJswvM8bE4yaFzGndEsDBOAuuJ31Tfxw11a_mdotHZKS41lIaNkodGk5AKsDiOMthkg/s4032/IMG_1939.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ShltEVrES-AmzeyeMpx08PZ9EzLYICdL2ylq-P1Bd9RgzJbGJFyt0C4GhlKhXfvDoQZV43BoYeA8hFmg4lhIPUUftJ8gxy0j8lgwL1xADmqxwxlTJswvM8bE4yaFzGndEsDBOAuuJ31Tfxw11a_mdotHZKS41lIaNkodGk5AKsDiOMthkg/w400-h300/IMG_1939.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijWSqgqYgDC2dQXbfidpV7cZRdsV6VTtfKvTlyNcQZIQSNWq53rFE-pXgE8DPT2pbIbQPywsV3PQG79ZN7CS5pq0XaziG09BOecAQQ5E9sJ6dTTzpKrpJ1tV3A_4rj8BUIIZed3zYOiazve9lMhDWKO8Ut3NQJb7OWIMZMMPTYI5YLCvUhSw/s4032/IMG_1938.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijWSqgqYgDC2dQXbfidpV7cZRdsV6VTtfKvTlyNcQZIQSNWq53rFE-pXgE8DPT2pbIbQPywsV3PQG79ZN7CS5pq0XaziG09BOecAQQ5E9sJ6dTTzpKrpJ1tV3A_4rj8BUIIZed3zYOiazve9lMhDWKO8Ut3NQJb7OWIMZMMPTYI5YLCvUhSw/w400-h300/IMG_1938.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donkeys, for my friend Nat</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_SwrmgR2wrle0Ao_-_sLUFi0dvJ6gzBKSjG-ooxJTd6gzuxOq2C1v9Wp28INPMKjDHMcpBX-8hni4d9Rn6EdpQZS09hAG4JneoyP4UqTURuffC2HhUJHE5fWNmMaXcA8qCh-t1TriaFOEsh_OChP-M2OD9xB7OUG2QdGwKctfRgq5TW4v6Q/s4032/IMG_1937.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_SwrmgR2wrle0Ao_-_sLUFi0dvJ6gzBKSjG-ooxJTd6gzuxOq2C1v9Wp28INPMKjDHMcpBX-8hni4d9Rn6EdpQZS09hAG4JneoyP4UqTURuffC2HhUJHE5fWNmMaXcA8qCh-t1TriaFOEsh_OChP-M2OD9xB7OUG2QdGwKctfRgq5TW4v6Q/w400-h300/IMG_1937.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />By now, the temperature was about 30 degrees, and we were riding into a hot, dry headwind. We crossed the Loire again to take the "Rive Droite" route, but that may not have been the best decision. Various guides suggested this was a nicer, more natural route, but most of it was along either a rough gravel road right up against the river, often with a levee wall reflecting heat onto us, or down a single-track gravel path that bikepackers with narrow loads and 42 mm tires might have found fun, but which we found to be fairly challenging and tiring. <p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh85ReXqtuxFhtVwhnUrqodUXS-64b7m_S03xs2iKjIEC_ujaXmCnZIRftwP4oHVKRnfzx3zHMzyy7E1OCSihkWMjSS26VD5TyJi_X8MtnwANZnRrLHccbMtPJ-Wtt-802ctGmk_IGZhi4n-LPPvISdPSuvv9XssDzhBg9-N25-0Qf539p3XA/s4032/IMG_1941.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh85ReXqtuxFhtVwhnUrqodUXS-64b7m_S03xs2iKjIEC_ujaXmCnZIRftwP4oHVKRnfzx3zHMzyy7E1OCSihkWMjSS26VD5TyJi_X8MtnwANZnRrLHccbMtPJ-Wtt-802ctGmk_IGZhi4n-LPPvISdPSuvv9XssDzhBg9-N25-0Qf539p3XA/w400-h300/IMG_1941.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Presenting the EuroVelo 6</td></tr></tbody></table><p>We finally rolled into Saumur at about 4:15, quite hot and tired. We stopped at a grocery store for supper provisions, got into our Airbnb which, though a 3rd-floor walk-up, is quite comfortable and, importantly, has AMAZING internet. We showered, had supper, and, with a second wind, went out to explore the lovely little town of Saumur, with its beautiful chateau. I really enjoy towns of this size—just big enough to have all the basic services and some character to them, but not so large that it takes you more than an hour to explore the whole place. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJNaaVREwwvki_gfq7Vn3B8aY2zx76cUoclQ9z2pyGVSSt8RYNr_ZFxfVC1EV9ZX3pTdiMJfV-24ZZ5Cw0h76eGOLNz5cP0L-RH3y6QI_r9vZ7Fcesej6DfO2tOIFeveAgBvvhCsx7OAIzo6J0ZmRk56QIOlolg9TJj3RymeTgOVl280x6w/s4032/IMG_1950.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJNaaVREwwvki_gfq7Vn3B8aY2zx76cUoclQ9z2pyGVSSt8RYNr_ZFxfVC1EV9ZX3pTdiMJfV-24ZZ5Cw0h76eGOLNz5cP0L-RH3y6QI_r9vZ7Fcesej6DfO2tOIFeveAgBvvhCsx7OAIzo6J0ZmRk56QIOlolg9TJj3RymeTgOVl280x6w/w400-h300/IMG_1950.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGud4o3dPn9--KKTGnL5mvlYxN7VajQrXHipvmLrEANMdunbCz3ibRfIvmbn8hANtJCjv4HTn1Cw_LOi3pmuJ0hNqCn9eq_QMXVfTYXN6spA-95Ve5ETxTyqIzMAq3Y4E_fWsFir-RKa5jZCyaZCS5iZIRQ0iMzTFXDuPpoN7F6ar9j4BD7A/s4032/IMG_1951.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGud4o3dPn9--KKTGnL5mvlYxN7VajQrXHipvmLrEANMdunbCz3ibRfIvmbn8hANtJCjv4HTn1Cw_LOi3pmuJ0hNqCn9eq_QMXVfTYXN6spA-95Ve5ETxTyqIzMAq3Y4E_fWsFir-RKa5jZCyaZCS5iZIRQ0iMzTFXDuPpoN7F6ar9j4BD7A/w400-h300/IMG_1951.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-67490159016490036752022-05-15T14:40:00.001-04:002022-05-25T21:22:54.286-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 14: A day off with good friends<p>Today was a rest day, and we took advantage of it to see some old friends who moved to northwestern Spain last year. They kindly agreed to drive the two-and-a-half hours from their home to Saint-Jean-de-Luz to meet us for the day. </p><p>We hadn't seen Patti and Ueli since before Covid started, so when they pulled up outside our Airbnb at 9:30 am, big hugs were in order. After chatting for a spell, we went out for a walk along the Grand Plage of Saint-Jean-de-Luz, across the bridge over the Nivelle River and into the neighbouring town of Ciboure, then up the other side of the bay, where we thought to get to the Fort de Socoa. But the day quickly turned very hot, and we were starting to get hungry, so we entered a bakery, bought sandwiches and drinks, found a bench to picnic on, and then decided that dipping our toes in the water (or, in Sonia's case, her whole body) was a more appealing prospect than trudging on to some old fort. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHpdRZZEAlaQ70d7vgGcQcxH-QfE8RIHgl0NNXjoihfoYEFc_dUlhZAYMphWEf5l6aUlJNyl0cRJdE9QWU6vdD5VSXEHQ8Oyd7E6jLHGtKf-BkGdgkxn2_DJ1Na0pHBTqv1_7AdP4-7co6rCZ0Y3Upe6b_rlVK6j-lOcrfPXvqQYxXgXiqg/s4032/IMG_1454.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHpdRZZEAlaQ70d7vgGcQcxH-QfE8RIHgl0NNXjoihfoYEFc_dUlhZAYMphWEf5l6aUlJNyl0cRJdE9QWU6vdD5VSXEHQ8Oyd7E6jLHGtKf-BkGdgkxn2_DJ1Na0pHBTqv1_7AdP4-7co6rCZ0Y3Upe6b_rlVK6j-lOcrfPXvqQYxXgXiqg/w400-h300/IMG_1454.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONFwLyIpSKlu3b8w-y9f2TBWBqpQ68yhzcmnbNMOdth_-o4yc2lPSst7TZEATqMMqpqg19TOeytd9iWs13f0O5fi0a87BucW7JM2YKIQQHcTeTxeMckuc3cNuhG0xPsafCOGrkzMSS_XX30ralHqTZwI6G465nryC0AW8pnRqRSrY24BtBQ/s4032/IMG_1918.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONFwLyIpSKlu3b8w-y9f2TBWBqpQ68yhzcmnbNMOdth_-o4yc2lPSst7TZEATqMMqpqg19TOeytd9iWs13f0O5fi0a87BucW7JM2YKIQQHcTeTxeMckuc3cNuhG0xPsafCOGrkzMSS_XX30ralHqTZwI6G465nryC0AW8pnRqRSrY24BtBQ/w400-h300/IMG_1918.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>We wended our way back to the Airbnb, slowly melting in the heat, stopped at what was apparently the only open grocery story in town this Sunday afternoon, bought a few provisions for dinner, and headed back to the relatively coolness of the apartment, where we had drinks and continued catching up. <p></p><p>Thunderstorms swept through at around 4, which cooled things down deliciously, and then we made a light dinner before our friends headed back to their home in Spain. It's always a delight to see them, and we hope it won't be so long before the next time. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkCWG5KyFbzza5tr2lEJjfW4scBVaSxWmeMKswxxOqdYUN7De1xtGm1-i_n_Km_AcKPlOSrWjIocB0Hguhrbg2Y4MZGWrxD_yZR8zbZvmk_B5LTo1FrlKV7a4K16SfZ4ubeJydJz2cPDWcwRc9ItGomPtZi-OxX0toP3iWrnHKzrKh3s8Gbw/s4032/IMG_1456.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkCWG5KyFbzza5tr2lEJjfW4scBVaSxWmeMKswxxOqdYUN7De1xtGm1-i_n_Km_AcKPlOSrWjIocB0Hguhrbg2Y4MZGWrxD_yZR8zbZvmk_B5LTo1FrlKV7a4K16SfZ4ubeJydJz2cPDWcwRc9ItGomPtZi-OxX0toP3iWrnHKzrKh3s8Gbw/w400-h300/IMG_1456.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><br />petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-16351693907331519872022-05-14T15:37:00.003-04:002022-05-25T21:17:36.552-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 13: Saint-Jean-de-Luz<p>Today, we are at a beautiful Airbnb with The. Worst. Internet. (Basically, non-existant.) So no pictures again for a while. Check back again later. </p><p>As the crow flies, and as the optimistic mind roves, today was meant to be an easy day—a mere 30 kilometres, the long way around, down to Saint-Jean-de-Luz. Our legs will tell a different story. </p><p>The first 8 kilometres out of Bayonne, along the Adour River, were easy enough, though not particularly picturesque, as is so often the case when leaving a city. Reaching the mouth of the Ardour, we hung a left and headed south down the coast—which is when things started to go sideways... or should I say, vertical. </p><p>We stopped at almost the first beach we came to, and Sonia went down to the water while I watched the bikes and had a double espresso. Turns out that the waves were a little too violent for her to get right in, so after a spell (we had done about 8km by this point), we got back on our way. Which is when the up and down really started. The next big destination was Biarritz and from there, the views were basically as breathtaking as the climbs. Just constant up and down—much of it quite doable, but some of it pretty tough. All of it totally worth it for the views. It was hard to keep your eyes on the road sometimes. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJOXu4TYX_g74i_SXcaBpDKJ35Rbz0PLOT4WL1gYOjgdRApPzSEZPoZVDNe9095xA46zFIpAYeflgFSmFsU1RAyb7b3NwIQnYhsuiT5QNGJ_hZ5_hvgaPTMAH5htYn4NHtauOj0moXhGd-qH889znaa_9Y4kGgZjIxiJyCLoYkA9MI1BbXGw/s4032/IMG_1434.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJOXu4TYX_g74i_SXcaBpDKJ35Rbz0PLOT4WL1gYOjgdRApPzSEZPoZVDNe9095xA46zFIpAYeflgFSmFsU1RAyb7b3NwIQnYhsuiT5QNGJ_hZ5_hvgaPTMAH5htYn4NHtauOj0moXhGd-qH889znaa_9Y4kGgZjIxiJyCLoYkA9MI1BbXGw/w400-h300/IMG_1434.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFtBeolKj3GY-LbDfbrnOkPSzYNXUMhHcHfDn03YEg2aDBcV9358I_xE1vPscsQapt4Ox83OaBMZmdb-mpRJRzdroareDjSDmUgjKkJK6WnMsHe5DRACz9kHFluozxsELFL0tXCavr3jGC5atUcOogYTk2WgVx6qb08lVWcE7-Xi2aDBLq2Q/s4032/IMG_1896.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFtBeolKj3GY-LbDfbrnOkPSzYNXUMhHcHfDn03YEg2aDBcV9358I_xE1vPscsQapt4Ox83OaBMZmdb-mpRJRzdroareDjSDmUgjKkJK6WnMsHe5DRACz9kHFluozxsELFL0tXCavr3jGC5atUcOogYTk2WgVx6qb08lVWcE7-Xi2aDBLq2Q/w400-h300/IMG_1896.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-wrAZd4OvZEnSw6jlFvRCEjLgQC1ioAYvbtzIF1BdgoS3L55mdWQmK4rSor1h73Dz164ZaRxVT_IGN6zo_JZUg7Ew5ciPYsbpD_Fx8gSnxWZQHhb5K2hKJsvOo-ZKLEFyO3dgKgPCd-YquDs8QEfjHdppWfDJ_VXylaaL0H75EVoux4O9ug/s3927/IMG_1900.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2945" data-original-width="3927" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-wrAZd4OvZEnSw6jlFvRCEjLgQC1ioAYvbtzIF1BdgoS3L55mdWQmK4rSor1h73Dz164ZaRxVT_IGN6zo_JZUg7Ew5ciPYsbpD_Fx8gSnxWZQHhb5K2hKJsvOo-ZKLEFyO3dgKgPCd-YquDs8QEfjHdppWfDJ_VXylaaL0H75EVoux4O9ug/w400-h300/IMG_1900.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwg_3y4j8fZON3pjl0mhxXsHzqtmgWfWdCIwyytTQ4XIaxuH2lpo5O28NbEWuhoY9cFCWwCi8R0yev6SfgcZqEuxQWvEUkukCnWDB-ufkeF4OW7Pu3hXC7FCYHUbNzLGl4QKrwKiTcwNxL0MLzIf2x7FwDO95fM2CCWbj2p2JnuY68oFtMw/s4032/IMG_1904.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwg_3y4j8fZON3pjl0mhxXsHzqtmgWfWdCIwyytTQ4XIaxuH2lpo5O28NbEWuhoY9cFCWwCi8R0yev6SfgcZqEuxQWvEUkukCnWDB-ufkeF4OW7Pu3hXC7FCYHUbNzLGl4QKrwKiTcwNxL0MLzIf2x7FwDO95fM2CCWbj2p2JnuY68oFtMw/w400-h300/IMG_1904.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipo4VlThUi0V6_PPeMYhElztOjG0ATHaPksJG9qFJ15ucgqc_YvswGSwypkfTMsRpCbpYGYBhOz-qycGRy7NpdiAKcG3fPgFEkuXaDyim4S-z9vqLsGLyghcIuvOfEt8mo4cY2ajbSk34Ke-ulshW6xbbaGA1Z4DcGkmPrmo6uqVG4g5SMhA/s4032/IMG_1910.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipo4VlThUi0V6_PPeMYhElztOjG0ATHaPksJG9qFJ15ucgqc_YvswGSwypkfTMsRpCbpYGYBhOz-qycGRy7NpdiAKcG3fPgFEkuXaDyim4S-z9vqLsGLyghcIuvOfEt8mo4cY2ajbSk34Ke-ulshW6xbbaGA1Z4DcGkmPrmo6uqVG4g5SMhA/w400-h300/IMG_1910.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p>We had lunch at a lovely little park overlooking the Grand Plage at Biarritz and then pushed on. We stopped again for coffee and pastries at a perfectly placed patisserie at Bidart, and then we reached Guéthary and knew we only had 6 kilometres left... oof. It took us 45 minutes to cover those 6 kilometres. </p><p>Sonia handled the hills really well, and only had to push her bike up two of them (the latter of which was a truly brutal rutted gravel path with probably an 18% grade that even I had trouble pushing my bike up. The Vélodyssée really can be quite an adventure at times. </p><p>We arrived at the Airbnb at 3 pm on the dot and waited for our host to open it up. There is a lovely beach just a 5 minute walk down, and Saint-Jean-de-Luz is a 15 minute walk down the road. We have a lovely view, a comfortable bed, and, alas, terrible internet, which seems to be a theme on this trip. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0AvVKU0rqAV4U_wXQEy9UK9ctHGywaGbBqNKHOoybNWwsm7raksrDUHSs8JMHvL8cPJ85u3dew9yeZlu0Fa0olmCrCNiHZlnPNrjpNzhYfsUvkpYKrSNYol624G3DZRuwxWh4_3OamnhyEm_vmWBWuwipPoQsZ8Na3MwGgwehJSq4MOpdSg/s4032/IMG_1453.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0AvVKU0rqAV4U_wXQEy9UK9ctHGywaGbBqNKHOoybNWwsm7raksrDUHSs8JMHvL8cPJ85u3dew9yeZlu0Fa0olmCrCNiHZlnPNrjpNzhYfsUvkpYKrSNYol624G3DZRuwxWh4_3OamnhyEm_vmWBWuwipPoQsZ8Na3MwGgwehJSq4MOpdSg/w400-h300/IMG_1453.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-29212336658165773862022-05-13T16:09:00.003-04:002022-05-13T16:13:46.546-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Days 11 & 12: Vers le pays Basques<p>The descent south down the Vélodyssée is lovely but, like the stretch down the Canal de Garonne, there's not a lot of variety—you're either riding through quite heavily managed pine forest, or you're riding through a dusty beach town that, depending on its size, may be lively and open for business or sleepy and mostly still boarded up for the winter. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUPhaBSqccHMDPp_MaExZR3hc5jRrQ0NFYyXUsF1TQLxqRTxK2b3qn0NzcTU8RonJooGbhgLbN4i9DQfB30gxpuLqI9RfNKaa7U8VtgIMvM3MJK6Z5oLdzOcu3adBGPF1qH9Fn3kuLKLFQ72c4J-iyP6hNoGuHdx09BPDjE1SjB65y_RmTA/s4032/IMG_1409.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUPhaBSqccHMDPp_MaExZR3hc5jRrQ0NFYyXUsF1TQLxqRTxK2b3qn0NzcTU8RonJooGbhgLbN4i9DQfB30gxpuLqI9RfNKaa7U8VtgIMvM3MJK6Z5oLdzOcu3adBGPF1qH9Fn3kuLKLFQ72c4J-iyP6hNoGuHdx09BPDjE1SjB65y_RmTA/w400-h300/IMG_1409.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPoNFfSwnwDQe4aDX24Z7Zp8nsIrsrM9yMEtTmjlYv1yBdjv6lGd27W7vrp0Aw7dU5ugQDulo20hQIQ4lWGAkCDPFCRBAflHNtlq8cE4BIofZIBmAtOTuQ7h9ZWqYyFz4uFQdEEtdZXqPXvfnF1gt1dpbuCZdXepx-l52K2DE8HbRQ4XYOjw/s4032/IMG_1848.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPoNFfSwnwDQe4aDX24Z7Zp8nsIrsrM9yMEtTmjlYv1yBdjv6lGd27W7vrp0Aw7dU5ugQDulo20hQIQ4lWGAkCDPFCRBAflHNtlq8cE4BIofZIBmAtOTuQ7h9ZWqYyFz4uFQdEEtdZXqPXvfnF1gt1dpbuCZdXepx-l52K2DE8HbRQ4XYOjw/w400-h300/IMG_1848.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHsPwHtQP5HWnx0q1uddg39v75csDiGWzOa_Z2LSaJ1gZtFCy4kOv4udYCJ8srUXooqLVGFbZQuZeKRy9kf3zzullj0uyukspYFNNW_t5nISebXHoYnXpUVepDkpWPE7lIz7tfyE_C9F2zVHBCzkHU5s6VoDe39eUVGFFDaD4N1AGDHwa2A/s4032/IMG_1851.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHsPwHtQP5HWnx0q1uddg39v75csDiGWzOa_Z2LSaJ1gZtFCy4kOv4udYCJ8srUXooqLVGFbZQuZeKRy9kf3zzullj0uyukspYFNNW_t5nISebXHoYnXpUVepDkpWPE7lIz7tfyE_C9F2zVHBCzkHU5s6VoDe39eUVGFFDaD4N1AGDHwa2A/w400-h300/IMG_1851.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p>So I didn't really feel like writing another missive describing basically the same day. But as we ride south, we are decidedly heading toward Basque country, and in these latitudes, though it is early in tourist season, it is most definitely tourist season. There are more shops and cafés open, and the atmosphere is much livelier. </p><p>While lovely, yesterday was much the same as the previous day. We rode through forests, stopped at a beach for lunch, stopped at what turned out to be a fantastic patisserie/boulangerie, and rolled into our digs for the night—a strange little guest house with shared bathrooms and kitchen. Not as as nice as our usual lodgings, but it was a roof over our heads for the evening. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qmYE5oRwfJJ8Frxl2Oq2fHf9old72ipohvQZLL82n9BmYlcj8LnX8BANIkClPpHZlNuQU0yL419Bm4to1l44vtEPaM_RRvWneZ-F_y0pKlEmD7PoAuj03c7GVaJdT04ni4MV03i5PDNjV4GMep_kd5nVOWq8c_Kze6fucnLB0Z0Df1rBsg/s4032/IMG_1412.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qmYE5oRwfJJ8Frxl2Oq2fHf9old72ipohvQZLL82n9BmYlcj8LnX8BANIkClPpHZlNuQU0yL419Bm4to1l44vtEPaM_RRvWneZ-F_y0pKlEmD7PoAuj03c7GVaJdT04ni4MV03i5PDNjV4GMep_kd5nVOWq8c_Kze6fucnLB0Z0Df1rBsg/w400-h300/IMG_1412.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p>Today, we began to see some changes in landscape as we headed out of the coastal pine forest and into Basque country. But it was still very familiar country. We stopped for second breakfast at a roadside campsite, went to observe the beach and surfers at Plage du Penon, had lunch beside a river, negotiated a detour along a single-track forest path due to bridge repairs, and eventually rolled into Bayonne about 4 pm, a total of 60 kilometres that went by very quickly. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrfEcnJi_UmIWVWv7T_IupqLcU4ujwGXLmD9cZZ8qTOPlYP1wB6s9PpwXroOSRTGb2SdqO2GgGVaHzt6IP59LNTkdNCQDoBN6vHLc3tVGzF0GIRVOo4tMMNDUq6cMpufCCDVQOhMutWRHgk7lEE0lICEKrMwz50VPjQf1MesJmmjC6F-zGIQ/s3088/IMG_1857.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrfEcnJi_UmIWVWv7T_IupqLcU4ujwGXLmD9cZZ8qTOPlYP1wB6s9PpwXroOSRTGb2SdqO2GgGVaHzt6IP59LNTkdNCQDoBN6vHLc3tVGzF0GIRVOo4tMMNDUq6cMpufCCDVQOhMutWRHgk7lEE0lICEKrMwz50VPjQf1MesJmmjC6F-zGIQ/w400-h300/IMG_1857.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3HeViQKJIJ0hqe6fT9WNRUBvk-_4tJFaYbVSWVapoUy_6FICtjnqXa-YkTBn6NoKzEr3FTsXLIjohi8virTG18rTzcw2yEOcnWzRsA7zI-zgBEsIRDVPSntRe9YPKw7MQcHLtojEvx3ZbNblgxfPh_G7rAlNuoLijV0JsqVsRvmmt9b0OA/s4032/IMG_1418.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3HeViQKJIJ0hqe6fT9WNRUBvk-_4tJFaYbVSWVapoUy_6FICtjnqXa-YkTBn6NoKzEr3FTsXLIjohi8virTG18rTzcw2yEOcnWzRsA7zI-zgBEsIRDVPSntRe9YPKw7MQcHLtojEvx3ZbNblgxfPh_G7rAlNuoLijV0JsqVsRvmmt9b0OA/w400-h300/IMG_1418.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>One of the neat things about this part of our trip is that we keep bumping into the same groups of cycle tourists. As we were pedalling the ups and downs of the terrain around the Dune of Pilat a few days ago, we stopped and chatted (in our broken Spanish) with a Mexican couple who were riding from Paris to Madrid. Then yesterday, as we left Mimizan Plage, we encountered a pair of French women who were having tire troubles. We asked them if they were OK (they were) and chatted for a few minutes before moving on. Then later that day, as we were finishing up our lunch at Saint-Girons Plage, another couple, whom we had met at a grocery store in La Hume a few days previous, pulled up, and then shortly afterward, the two French women stopped as well. It was like a family reunion. We had another really lovely chat, exchanging stories and information about various trips, before moving on. Then a few hours later, we all happened to stop at the same grocery store in Léon at around the same time. More conversation and even some sharing of chocolate. It was a really lovely sense of camaraderie. Today, we ran into the Mexican couple again just before entering Bayonne. More conversation, though brief, because our Spanish is not great, but again, that sense of camaraderie. I really love this part of our trips. <p></p><p>We checked into our hotel in Bayonne, overlooking the Nive River, went for a swim in the hotel pool, showered and went out to explore the town. This far south, the cities escaped the bombing of WWII, and Bayonne has retained much of its 17th-century charm; it's clearly a bustling, vibrant place. We had a nice dinner at a bistro alongside the Nive and wandered some more, the two tired (but content) cyclists heading generally back to the hotel just as the town was coming to life on this Friday night.</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqG-kkkdFwzimmQ2C2OMst6tVFo7CFeejlstuyQhgVp33ytPOEWX8PARoNnOk37MkdU0CjzRKk_bWjpZmuPKMev1wZajTfxGNnkmilMbQPwTuADp8mHbjasj--po8a4Qe5QSuAIId6C09HmVuwUEsL9LHWTnx7qJJXMuA6tQXZpGRmPWITrw/s4032/IMG_1878.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqG-kkkdFwzimmQ2C2OMst6tVFo7CFeejlstuyQhgVp33ytPOEWX8PARoNnOk37MkdU0CjzRKk_bWjpZmuPKMev1wZajTfxGNnkmilMbQPwTuADp8mHbjasj--po8a4Qe5QSuAIId6C09HmVuwUEsL9LHWTnx7qJJXMuA6tQXZpGRmPWITrw/w400-h300/IMG_1878.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvmvec54SnhmieZzlLc6g9dAB6mIga7PRtlcwS2BKQE1TKwZmKLlRWzsYTatSbwa4WJ5rc9hklwjSA6pIdz6VCq2rxdyA0quxnChF-6r8WRJyfOmplF_f8XvQUPukMFP556Q-VvlzGBaa3CHS2AZguI0d99ttrvnlqjVTEMEtNZS_JXyUJw/s4032/IMG_1885.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqvmvec54SnhmieZzlLc6g9dAB6mIga7PRtlcwS2BKQE1TKwZmKLlRWzsYTatSbwa4WJ5rc9hklwjSA6pIdz6VCq2rxdyA0quxnChF-6r8WRJyfOmplF_f8XvQUPukMFP556Q-VvlzGBaa3CHS2AZguI0d99ttrvnlqjVTEMEtNZS_JXyUJw/w400-h300/IMG_1885.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6JXGmwW7sA2enDXEVtxnm3vxdGKhNaW_mq2LI7F5R_EtL5tR6uJTnBmUuf2ifjRN7BGEXxQaO8bjaFfDr7L6Kzi6jLVKrZklAysFP_jgyEjivecbMQX4pBP9DZuAwbEMx31-ruCHZOTcz5mHDdLMz7-y3LYs2UqQp9PEvZGSwE_8V8g-EA/s4032/IMG_1887.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6JXGmwW7sA2enDXEVtxnm3vxdGKhNaW_mq2LI7F5R_EtL5tR6uJTnBmUuf2ifjRN7BGEXxQaO8bjaFfDr7L6Kzi6jLVKrZklAysFP_jgyEjivecbMQX4pBP9DZuAwbEMx31-ruCHZOTcz5mHDdLMz7-y3LYs2UqQp9PEvZGSwE_8V8g-EA/w400-h300/IMG_1887.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-7668502831786485302022-05-11T16:04:00.003-04:002022-05-13T16:15:13.482-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 10: Riding the Vélodyssée<div>Today we woke up to overcast skies and deliciously cool temperatures. But, as predicted by the forecast, the cloud burned off in the late morning, and most of the rest of the day was lovely and sunny and a little cooler than the previous days. Perfect cycling weather, actually. </div><div><br /></div><div>We rode out of Biscarosse Plage at about 9:30 and were rudely treated to a fairly tough climb over several kilometres as we headed inland. But this totally doable route through a lovely pine forest was much preferable to the easier and shorter route along the busy highway; we will take that tradeoff most days. The glorious descent down the other side of what was, essentially, a big forest-covered dune, took us down to the Lac de Cazeaux et de Sanguinet (this is one lake, folks) then down through Biscarosse "ville" and south to a second lake with another weird doublet name, Lac de Biscarrosse et de Parentis. All of this was quite gorgeous. We stopped for a quick second breakfast along a canal between the two lakes and then continued on to Gastes, on the south shore of the southern lake, for our lunch and a tea ceremony. And of course Sonia could not resist getting in the water, which was significantly warmer than the Atlantic.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBz6-Ar7V8EhjQCNJqJbJAHzHrzHa8myxgLmTA5sq8Lfx8vLmse0-XcTavyo-n9kqtby9RjI069CcxHy__T94NyeySOmfvFWkJpz3nYlMZnJH2NfUAT2zQhV_aWGre9MYli3bq1JYmHwIBK3u7XkKVzxyiBebl_WOuEHvontLv7UR8IvMIw/s4032/IMG_1831.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBz6-Ar7V8EhjQCNJqJbJAHzHrzHa8myxgLmTA5sq8Lfx8vLmse0-XcTavyo-n9kqtby9RjI069CcxHy__T94NyeySOmfvFWkJpz3nYlMZnJH2NfUAT2zQhV_aWGre9MYli3bq1JYmHwIBK3u7XkKVzxyiBebl_WOuEHvontLv7UR8IvMIw/w400-h300/IMG_1831.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGeVlPkGhk382Z8zKe0zet-s3gb9QVSQCcRA87pRvo9u7_vXOm_Po9tfstBFnNfLEMT0V1pPIYby0pencoMEo7dYmEKe6mY8VtonTmAiareokwBkmjpIq5j6vTJoedt860o2i6RbkbgdJV6R9YmWXTmVIc964wuKj6fG410TadkbAGCZ4Tg/s4032/IMG_1833.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGeVlPkGhk382Z8zKe0zet-s3gb9QVSQCcRA87pRvo9u7_vXOm_Po9tfstBFnNfLEMT0V1pPIYby0pencoMEo7dYmEKe6mY8VtonTmAiareokwBkmjpIq5j6vTJoedt860o2i6RbkbgdJV6R9YmWXTmVIc964wuKj6fG410TadkbAGCZ4Tg/w400-h300/IMG_1833.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVk1IXEfgz_FxsihJA__7YVGwHUA7_uYwNp1_8pZR5pChez7tpLzs0fEAuXoelIWXzLMXnPSG6pXtPWACPawTUwExPtsBJSxtxuhkstFc5vQdDGmxskBtRHU0Sh01yZug3oFsZytfS6id4UsWBqOx4LksO35W39HuyybDv_dRX-RmCPBPdZg/s4032/IMG_1836.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVk1IXEfgz_FxsihJA__7YVGwHUA7_uYwNp1_8pZR5pChez7tpLzs0fEAuXoelIWXzLMXnPSG6pXtPWACPawTUwExPtsBJSxtxuhkstFc5vQdDGmxskBtRHU0Sh01yZug3oFsZytfS6id4UsWBqOx4LksO35W39HuyybDv_dRX-RmCPBPdZg/w400-h300/IMG_1836.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2LuJvlUwrmlCoOlmJnrnlJbZPs-T1zcOi0yzAudUviioLUZy_DdZ1vs9G2uI6Trv9UnXhGKpPF3QhBmfY6fampXW08u4h-e19opWCAqpMfvkpg_WMWhiKOjdKY9WDVmS6M1aYhHucNFhSfDc_gmZo8H5RsYwN8GfKgBkTm8fREyyYoTu6tA/s4032/IMG_1837.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2LuJvlUwrmlCoOlmJnrnlJbZPs-T1zcOi0yzAudUviioLUZy_DdZ1vs9G2uI6Trv9UnXhGKpPF3QhBmfY6fampXW08u4h-e19opWCAqpMfvkpg_WMWhiKOjdKY9WDVmS6M1aYhHucNFhSfDc_gmZo8H5RsYwN8GfKgBkTm8fREyyYoTu6tA/w400-h300/IMG_1837.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>After a solid hour break, we pushed on. Though the whole day was on bike paths, much of this middle part of route was alongside roads, but most were not particularly busy. Just before the town of Mimizan, the Véodyssée hangs a sharp right and heads back up over the same glorified dune we crossed in the morning, though it is much lower at this latitude. The reason for this jog inland is that most of the coastline between Biscarosse Plage and Mimizan Plage (our destination for the day) is occupied by a military base. Tomorrow, there is no such obstruction, and we'll be heading straight down the coast. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRHbN_ZCAcAqBBa_-tRQaZ8znoITN8pI67rC0p8N6K-_fNkCbghYXz6fYjmW7GGl0mLgPH8AgkrfVkKSfsOeIc9i2qqyBv0bvRkiz4k_SfnhBs_rcXqF51ejIvw_UlGoStLJ7yVjLvZMSN_Q3lf7AjH_XSeI1H7n5fRijCnt9ytIEZo27tQ/s4032/IMG_1838.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRHbN_ZCAcAqBBa_-tRQaZ8znoITN8pI67rC0p8N6K-_fNkCbghYXz6fYjmW7GGl0mLgPH8AgkrfVkKSfsOeIc9i2qqyBv0bvRkiz4k_SfnhBs_rcXqF51ejIvw_UlGoStLJ7yVjLvZMSN_Q3lf7AjH_XSeI1H7n5fRijCnt9ytIEZo27tQ/w400-h300/IMG_1838.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Mimizan Plage is also a surf town, but also much more touristy than Biscarosse Plage. One particularity of these towns is most of the Airbnbs don't offer bed linen and towels, which strikes them off the list for us. So we booked what turned out to be a cute little hotel within sound of the surf (which is quite high today) and treated ourselves to dinner at a restaurant in the town—only the second time Sonia and I have eaten out together since the pandemic started. What a treat!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMIf6_VfnXDPMk8DBX2XV_E5fFFjHQ7pXjgeHKgEsurlpMRz_bouCjArJPtZzj3uZ2dMoyMIo5tUm8XQf6TcK3d2WRQsrPJcMRQZGKjwOmatBajdFDnUMG4YPga79_4H3kJnM27HmQv2fSRpGN2pYytx84Y_RcRefuoem5OI-BbzYKyHlVA/s4032/IMG_1843.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMIf6_VfnXDPMk8DBX2XV_E5fFFjHQ7pXjgeHKgEsurlpMRz_bouCjArJPtZzj3uZ2dMoyMIo5tUm8XQf6TcK3d2WRQsrPJcMRQZGKjwOmatBajdFDnUMG4YPga79_4H3kJnM27HmQv2fSRpGN2pYytx84Y_RcRefuoem5OI-BbzYKyHlVA/w300-h400/IMG_1843.jpeg" width="300" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8IdXVCbko7C0nnW_y9IAHs8F7UOERLVTSSE7dSVgbhCMEFRyXI_7rXpag1QvrhvPoxeDcBWNDZRjdWhBMbwqd6dI_wHg8On3EdU4RvSfG3HxJFOGQJjr9eibqhoIJLOGSvakqIi9FAsMFkxyn14CrlXDfcGJYcaMk_yxGPVozpC_v_-Vyhg/s4032/IMG_1401.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8IdXVCbko7C0nnW_y9IAHs8F7UOERLVTSSE7dSVgbhCMEFRyXI_7rXpag1QvrhvPoxeDcBWNDZRjdWhBMbwqd6dI_wHg8On3EdU4RvSfG3HxJFOGQJjr9eibqhoIJLOGSvakqIi9FAsMFkxyn14CrlXDfcGJYcaMk_yxGPVozpC_v_-Vyhg/w400-h300/IMG_1401.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-64871423917756840882022-05-10T14:28:00.000-04:002022-05-10T14:28:21.520-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 9: The Atlantic coastThere's always a period on these tours where we get a little down; a time when, if we could choose so in that low moment, we might simply pack up and go home. We only recognized it in retrospect on the first few trips, but on our last trip, in 2019, we kind of knew what to expect. So feeling that little sag yesterday, and perhaps somewhat the day before, in Bordeaux, was not a surprise. Though we recognize the phenomenon, it's still hard to pin down the cause. Maybe it's just a bit of fatigue as our bodies habituate to the rigours of daily physical exertion. Or perhaps it's getting used to looking for a place to stay every evening. Or simply adapting to a different culture. Who knows, but today, I think we have turned the corner. <div><br /></div><div>It certainly helps to do a pretty spectacular day of cycling. We were on the road by 9:30, and headed lazily north toward the resort town of Arcachon—as gorgeous a beach resort as you'll ever see farther south. This Tuesday morning in early May, the beaches were pretty deserted, but I'm quite certain that in high season, these vast stretches of white sand must be packed with Beautiful People. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0GUe5gtLmmVz8P3NSsYmWH8DpADT0DHLUZUkBMMmFSC1iDx8-ZeheTL_CgtL_mbJBhhFmmH7AqOckQaTSLgZ9CPgEfVr2F7xxDikOauWoYBjGR3FzpaAtUXCmV9Mrfylk_p5928SCyjrxcfK5k9_IdnLZIYO9991XJQ9xuo0fR0rybHhhsQ/s4032/IMG_1807.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0GUe5gtLmmVz8P3NSsYmWH8DpADT0DHLUZUkBMMmFSC1iDx8-ZeheTL_CgtL_mbJBhhFmmH7AqOckQaTSLgZ9CPgEfVr2F7xxDikOauWoYBjGR3FzpaAtUXCmV9Mrfylk_p5928SCyjrxcfK5k9_IdnLZIYO9991XJQ9xuo0fR0rybHhhsQ/w400-h300/IMG_1807.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4e71PgALWZRGv4ncTPGgcoVymcUcysks7Mx79h1AilmIpDrfPg0fAdlPPHDuRUQQxvbMFvDtiRdydRN88J0IPV5hR6MImFTFbVwLnS_VHZJctM04aPnJ7TYpfJnIvkeUmPvcqIbT2Rs8gGITf5ft7OzVB0oUspOeCcc_JSIpHfLYkpUD7OA/s4032/IMG_1814.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4e71PgALWZRGv4ncTPGgcoVymcUcysks7Mx79h1AilmIpDrfPg0fAdlPPHDuRUQQxvbMFvDtiRdydRN88J0IPV5hR6MImFTFbVwLnS_VHZJctM04aPnJ7TYpfJnIvkeUmPvcqIbT2Rs8gGITf5ft7OzVB0oUspOeCcc_JSIpHfLYkpUD7OA/w400-h300/IMG_1814.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJg0pLIckoEX1iWOlNMN22ikjnpN5TYbFvCR2hGI8aYjMf2WggJBJ72_aNAAZ7kX1MKrWHuYlSoKaJX21uXE83qeV-qTOwg3sI2TZmGhzoypXTAvmRA3Gb9Wv8eQ4c4qyqFOk0i4qXfKeVVGj3PsvwB-oYMCmv9qm8qNL9oHvHMb5HFC14Q/s4032/IMG_1380.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJg0pLIckoEX1iWOlNMN22ikjnpN5TYbFvCR2hGI8aYjMf2WggJBJ72_aNAAZ7kX1MKrWHuYlSoKaJX21uXE83qeV-qTOwg3sI2TZmGhzoypXTAvmRA3Gb9Wv8eQ4c4qyqFOk0i4qXfKeVVGj3PsvwB-oYMCmv9qm8qNL9oHvHMb5HFC14Q/w400-h300/IMG_1380.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>The water sang its siren song to Sonia, and she, of course, was helpless to resist. Fortunately, there were ample well-shaded benches along the broad promenade where someone with a less sun-loving complexion could wait in comfort. </div><div><br /></div><div>We took our time riding around the Archacon bulge and then headed south toward the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dune_of_Pilat">Dune of Pilat</a>, which I had not heard of before researching this trip but which is one of those wild geological phenomena that are absolutely worth seeing. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgFFaQNf0k9OQAsCOjokvjlBP3NwtRz_JUcgitc3mN9cvE_E8KXzcTzZaNNQIEAeOftNA9j5XiLS9HCMVLcaZH-mfk8mWQsTFxH9_ZdRm19djeBWeRWWdrhjTNsT56PQhyxHlRHkxr5r9sHgoapjn8ceMMnVEgZQwOHzsP9yzQ9v_q1lKfgg/s3672/IMG_1816.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2754" data-original-width="3672" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgFFaQNf0k9OQAsCOjokvjlBP3NwtRz_JUcgitc3mN9cvE_E8KXzcTzZaNNQIEAeOftNA9j5XiLS9HCMVLcaZH-mfk8mWQsTFxH9_ZdRm19djeBWeRWWdrhjTNsT56PQhyxHlRHkxr5r9sHgoapjn8ceMMnVEgZQwOHzsP9yzQ9v_q1lKfgg/w400-h300/IMG_1816.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCQ6ofcdV7uHsDqjpHrrZhrtroTij5xf6hmEf5eOOZ02i827N2jalCOABnGXJ6I_0KDfMeOa9Oct7dtnBXTFEv3ZkB8vDHz69wy6qdlXMhOayx5AD7wzq0HyGFMEbjN7HtpaD69XJ_-FG38LkNUPn1saP_OXBIK3xv_UDBDioF2gp9nJbeA/s4032/IMG_1815.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCQ6ofcdV7uHsDqjpHrrZhrtroTij5xf6hmEf5eOOZ02i827N2jalCOABnGXJ6I_0KDfMeOa9Oct7dtnBXTFEv3ZkB8vDHz69wy6qdlXMhOayx5AD7wzq0HyGFMEbjN7HtpaD69XJ_-FG38LkNUPn1saP_OXBIK3xv_UDBDioF2gp9nJbeA/w400-h300/IMG_1815.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcMdNIK8pNLTsxTpFhMrQOy-tWc_yhPaowl2CKOM-kJb6xVnoTR3lEnwMJqVYMJKJ9AbMXhbP4ZIcecRDMpgbuYCowMas0f3pNAk5J-NLrR1gdCdCKFKyPq2Nin3a9b6_-GihnRWXh3Pkw-H1RAcdPkVlvB6Ge2dd6Ww4B3wUz7ulnznpt0A/s4032/IMG_1388.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcMdNIK8pNLTsxTpFhMrQOy-tWc_yhPaowl2CKOM-kJb6xVnoTR3lEnwMJqVYMJKJ9AbMXhbP4ZIcecRDMpgbuYCowMas0f3pNAk5J-NLrR1gdCdCKFKyPq2Nin3a9b6_-GihnRWXh3Pkw-H1RAcdPkVlvB6Ge2dd6Ww4B3wUz7ulnznpt0A/w400-h300/IMG_1388.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>By now, we were back on the EV1 (Vélodyssée). This is a really beautiful bike path. It does do quite a bit of up and down, but nothing too dramatic. South of the Dune of Pilat, it follows the main road, and the dune is a looming presence for 6 or 7 kilometres as you head south. It really is quite surreal. Then the path turns inland from the road, and you ride through a long stretch of really lovely coastal pine forest. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRVCzdxWdKE4CmJEX3iVR-vtpMb2AfN38ZwMBbs17Md0uc8xGXyF98tUCzkgrW-2HCMxDol6zriZ8nYJqajru6hkYfv4HpDEGYulglunVQ1V3jLbYiatvtsDo8a61J5HUgbinrumEUacaaIybBK4ugiEDILRi-oZnB9r-i68igHL7oVulTtA/s4032/IMG_1392.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRVCzdxWdKE4CmJEX3iVR-vtpMb2AfN38ZwMBbs17Md0uc8xGXyF98tUCzkgrW-2HCMxDol6zriZ8nYJqajru6hkYfv4HpDEGYulglunVQ1V3jLbYiatvtsDo8a61J5HUgbinrumEUacaaIybBK4ugiEDILRi-oZnB9r-i68igHL7oVulTtA/w400-h300/IMG_1392.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtoyRQd5audCR10UZLhmibMlC7e9o5ALQoS0DNIjF2SW4v8fbZT2nvaWD9QgrMEcw6bRGI6Okl7ocI9KLkS93ikdntY-Ux1em5b_rMyD2K7cWisQ_hDrFIQ8lqDdFD3ytSZDW6wFh9GyErSj4a7kow1xqewBuPujWRAvBNhZCOOMNzTVccIw/s4032/IMG_1393.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtoyRQd5audCR10UZLhmibMlC7e9o5ALQoS0DNIjF2SW4v8fbZT2nvaWD9QgrMEcw6bRGI6Okl7ocI9KLkS93ikdntY-Ux1em5b_rMyD2K7cWisQ_hDrFIQ8lqDdFD3ytSZDW6wFh9GyErSj4a7kow1xqewBuPujWRAvBNhZCOOMNzTVccIw/w400-h300/IMG_1393.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>We arrived at our cozy little Airbnb in the little surfer town of Biscarosse-Plage at about 4 pm and settled in. The beach here is only a 5 minute walk away, but this evening, the offshore wind set in and it was a little too brisk for even the most intrepid Canadienne to dare the waters. Only the wetsuit-clad surfers were so brave. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPceyJ_YFhFcPAA9qf4QV06hABZPvFBmFVTnoEfeBMpbZZm6qOVqyXkrIh9wwUPNaNlC3KyCtZKqusDVC-31hp6KIrn66BqHivORGhg6gMfKm2oc6gC0ELlKuSOgbgrwHoLrsQcbprlPoZTxA7j49LDphydXfznTUdHD6tSJmqf2_Sjr0ixw/s4032/IMG_1828.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPceyJ_YFhFcPAA9qf4QV06hABZPvFBmFVTnoEfeBMpbZZm6qOVqyXkrIh9wwUPNaNlC3KyCtZKqusDVC-31hp6KIrn66BqHivORGhg6gMfKm2oc6gC0ELlKuSOgbgrwHoLrsQcbprlPoZTxA7j49LDphydXfznTUdHD6tSJmqf2_Sjr0ixw/w400-h300/IMG_1828.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgigRfMR2klcw-rGImbxLWH7P_dBEKCNnTgoBAe9ewFIvUMEniu3bAEm0zOJFAH3UF3Xu_qh69Ac3WTojq6hUYNY0uuTCsSdN1FnKX7Z6kfdWVZgNDgEMSMXkKMe8QD6IvaQr-RUZogg9QpkJ2GPoMl6bIG-HAz4YMDK_KDfJXW0-NHaRmprw/s4032/IMG_1826.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgigRfMR2klcw-rGImbxLWH7P_dBEKCNnTgoBAe9ewFIvUMEniu3bAEm0zOJFAH3UF3Xu_qh69Ac3WTojq6hUYNY0uuTCsSdN1FnKX7Z6kfdWVZgNDgEMSMXkKMe8QD6IvaQr-RUZogg9QpkJ2GPoMl6bIG-HAz4YMDK_KDfJXW0-NHaRmprw/w400-h300/IMG_1826.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Also, a housekeeping note. I have been putting a bit of pressure on myself to post every day on this tour, and I'm not sure it's healthy. But I also know that I have a number of readers who follow the blog daily and who might be worried if I suddenly skip a day. So I just wanted to say that henceforth, I'm giving myself the option of skipping a day or two if the inspiration (or time) to blog does not inspire me. So don't panic if I miss a day here and there. :)</div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br />petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-66241578058650262052022-05-09T15:47:00.000-04:002022-05-09T15:47:37.940-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 8: By train, bike, and foot. <p>This morning, we bid farewell to Bordeaux. We were out of the apartment by 9 am and heading toward Bordeaux's train station, Gare de Saint-Jean, less than 2 kilometres away, to catch the 10:04 train to Arcachon. We could have ridden out to the Bassin d'Arcachon, a wide, shallow bay southwest of Bordeaux formed by Cap Ferret, but, to stay on bike paths, it would have meant travelling quite far north and east before heading back south toward north end of the bay. That would have taken a whole day in itself, and then another to get around the bay, and by all accounts, that particular path is somewhat boring. So we decided to simply take the train and save ourselves two days. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxPFgUEVLZ56e7CCQUg4EdptAnQCAeB-PW9WAi_so2UYZPTf7GWmjeDZzkA8i_zxZyK4V_ZLKODo1v6if3fZZpwLnagggLPLesw1WntJ5kVjyBzbdgNCmL1fjZCrlgpOt0qakAuykAGJPoxhXSn2zsLAAio0xFo6NHI1hInxmVuTYMZaVRw/s4032/IMG_1793.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxPFgUEVLZ56e7CCQUg4EdptAnQCAeB-PW9WAi_so2UYZPTf7GWmjeDZzkA8i_zxZyK4V_ZLKODo1v6if3fZZpwLnagggLPLesw1WntJ5kVjyBzbdgNCmL1fjZCrlgpOt0qakAuykAGJPoxhXSn2zsLAAio0xFo6NHI1hInxmVuTYMZaVRw/w300-h400/IMG_1793.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubzw8QPaN2BvA5WhqMjvGn2HZ0eWZ7tSRcjhdCxpT7iVPZL-okjnw5N02Mfh4aZiPT3c5vzAG62I3NwYNEkaSMWga8JIVvAalzgPyXDHEeos4jwWDjDiN1j1OrfPYYqE-xMFzXLAfsFvgg_SpfwfibJbo16K1fzz50gSzy2g5Ouu7hdgffQ/s4032/IMG_1794.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubzw8QPaN2BvA5WhqMjvGn2HZ0eWZ7tSRcjhdCxpT7iVPZL-okjnw5N02Mfh4aZiPT3c5vzAG62I3NwYNEkaSMWga8JIVvAalzgPyXDHEeos4jwWDjDiN1j1OrfPYYqE-xMFzXLAfsFvgg_SpfwfibJbo16K1fzz50gSzy2g5Ouu7hdgffQ/w400-h300/IMG_1794.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>The whole of Baie d'Arcachon is a big-time beach area, and even in early May, the train to the town of Arcachon filled up pretty quickly before the train even left Bordeaux. But as is our habit, we were there early and so were among the first on the train and got a good spot for our bikes. But as the train approached its terminus, it got quite full. I can only imagine what it must be like on summer weekends!</p><p>We got off at La Hume, a few stops before Arcachon, shortly before 11 and went in search of a snack, coffee, and some information at the tourist office. These tasks accomplished, we cycled to the beach and waited a half an hour before our appointed noon rendezvous with our Airbnb host, who gave us a very warm welcome, that included four croissants, a baguette, and a beer in the fridge! </p><p>After settling in, we hopped on our bikes, light as gossamer sans panniers, and headed back east toward La Teich, where there is a lovely bird sanctuary. It was nice to be able to lock up the bikes and take a walk. The sanctuary boasts six kilometres of trails among the bay's salt marshes, along with 20 hides, lots of shade and benches, and, well, birds. Though we were in the hottest part of the day, the tide was high, so many of the waders were fairly close in. We saw quite a few interesting birds on our walk, along with a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_green_lizard">foot-long bright green lizard</a>. We rode back to our beach house via the EV1 (locally called the Vélodessée), a bit more relaxing than the trip east along some busy roads closer to the shore. On the way, we stopped for supper provisions. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiki5OaiZm32o_kFfyJCYAcs1aW0oTtv2drLp8R3DUUCc3BU_HaJdLPedc0o3PcM24C8LQNmlMaWoqXsRojuwynO1vWQQnTnQ8In3pEoivlgzV484pMsYH7YEOp4FPqx7ZnQ-6W4Kz46RuGoFCqGW3LY4AqdC0N85YgZ2pIe44jRBB-1vb4zA/s4032/IMG_1797.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiki5OaiZm32o_kFfyJCYAcs1aW0oTtv2drLp8R3DUUCc3BU_HaJdLPedc0o3PcM24C8LQNmlMaWoqXsRojuwynO1vWQQnTnQ8In3pEoivlgzV484pMsYH7YEOp4FPqx7ZnQ-6W4Kz46RuGoFCqGW3LY4AqdC0N85YgZ2pIe44jRBB-1vb4zA/w400-h300/IMG_1797.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQGI5ioSqXWihzDszL3DIgUbQaZ5gjUNilYu3YKDG-RuHR5O5HBuJ1IP8wOX2sXZcB4ftqMlwiOrpONVgA64-mviWxe4y2knRnErl8ZzdbhT5L6q3R-qJV2hJMC4Rw0TNKwTlgcWhxaKDfNcvQQ7uVjGV37s2_5z1yg9xTEC4XGiPPlfAjIQ/s4032/IMG_1799.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQGI5ioSqXWihzDszL3DIgUbQaZ5gjUNilYu3YKDG-RuHR5O5HBuJ1IP8wOX2sXZcB4ftqMlwiOrpONVgA64-mviWxe4y2knRnErl8ZzdbhT5L6q3R-qJV2hJMC4Rw0TNKwTlgcWhxaKDfNcvQQ7uVjGV37s2_5z1yg9xTEC4XGiPPlfAjIQ/w300-h400/IMG_1799.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1jhFKaB9WylqEFgtxZhcErHLaBcr0z5qNObodHKMBcGlD9iW3MeunSeLyKgiQsWnoBnQEXly9_V0aJDkI34l2_5cSaNTYafSI922qCjPAPI_-8iJP-4YWVRZ0DPGhcMcC35gwtKx4vaCcsyuHepmTivNpe2wWRMUWZEJm4sEBu31jizM6A/s4032/IMG_1800.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1jhFKaB9WylqEFgtxZhcErHLaBcr0z5qNObodHKMBcGlD9iW3MeunSeLyKgiQsWnoBnQEXly9_V0aJDkI34l2_5cSaNTYafSI922qCjPAPI_-8iJP-4YWVRZ0DPGhcMcC35gwtKx4vaCcsyuHepmTivNpe2wWRMUWZEJm4sEBu31jizM6A/w400-h300/IMG_1800.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>After supper, we took a walk on the beach to watch the sun go down. Tomorrow, we turn our wheels resolutely south as we head down the Vélodyssée toward the Spanish boarder. </p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-74726827255802003282022-05-08T14:00:00.000-04:002022-05-08T14:00:09.055-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 7: A day in the big city<p>Yesterday evening, we took in the Saint-Michel Basilica, a two-minute walk from our apartment, where there just happened to be free organ concert going on, so we sat and listened for a while to some Bach and Schumann for a time before deciding to continue our exploration. We always manage to find a little music by happenstance on these trips. We continued our wandering east for a time before heading back, picking up some groceries for dinner, and returning to the apartment. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKeOKkqcc2xpZ8T9_Zp-MsAW_35419coEhZS6YaajPdL4IqNGr1euWFUhMO63Py1IbVDDlvPsIdb0SS3m-N9qEMTY1gQnB3NIgElRZH1Np7IpN3ozlKcBVhCA-Qk-JLIx0SUG3AvUU2Vqz2lKKzmK6Ti1s_Y_WfasDz3g6VaBVtKJWJlQAQ/s4032/IMG_1779.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKeOKkqcc2xpZ8T9_Zp-MsAW_35419coEhZS6YaajPdL4IqNGr1euWFUhMO63Py1IbVDDlvPsIdb0SS3m-N9qEMTY1gQnB3NIgElRZH1Np7IpN3ozlKcBVhCA-Qk-JLIx0SUG3AvUU2Vqz2lKKzmK6Ti1s_Y_WfasDz3g6VaBVtKJWJlQAQ/w300-h400/IMG_1779.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An organ concert in Bordeaux</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio0t0XNzV3UY2RCZZm8mzGqn06eF7BSYm41TcVtJTg10ijphBUcKhrhPAQ8vPNAI0-AC2Sp6mRiUmZyuLIDFEib2zOPyOfLpjyTksZmaB4m2eYTS12-cSLxCIP6u9Nvq5wnv5fj3Vt_pUKQlqAwfAG-e1rsVhhf9r6ONPzHvFn1Ql4_NzxZg/s4032/IMG_1780.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio0t0XNzV3UY2RCZZm8mzGqn06eF7BSYm41TcVtJTg10ijphBUcKhrhPAQ8vPNAI0-AC2Sp6mRiUmZyuLIDFEib2zOPyOfLpjyTksZmaB4m2eYTS12-cSLxCIP6u9Nvq5wnv5fj3Vt_pUKQlqAwfAG-e1rsVhhf9r6ONPzHvFn1Ql4_NzxZg/w300-h400/IMG_1780.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some lovely reflections</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Today, we woke up at 7:30ish and had a fairly lazy breakfast, then set off to explore Bordeaux on foot. Sonia had found a walking tour online, which we more-or-less followed in a big circle, passing by the Porte Cailhau, the Place de la Bourse, with its huge Miroir d'eau reflecting pool (though with the dogs and toddlers joyfully running through it, the "mirror" part was lacking), the Opéra/Grand Théâtre, the Place des Quinconces (where we bought sandwiches from a stand), the Jardin public (where we ate said sandwiches), the Place des Grands Hommes (home to numerous upscale shops, which were all closed because May 8 is a holiday in France, VE Day), the Saint-André-de-Bordeaux Cathedral, where we stopped at a market to pick up some vegetables for dinner, and finally back down Cours Victor-Hugo past the Grosse Cloche, where we found a lovely little café in the shade and had coffee/tea and tasted the Bordelais speciality pastry <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canelé">canelé</a>. We managed to pick up the rest of the ingredients for supper, plus a few other treats, on our way home. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_fs__j_aRXJEILAYAF85x9gmj8Pr0ogO8g2QGOKVGQUBbIDZeIA_T871J8wu3EbdFfd-LzZ5KBSGf2elPEu4mQFBy98eL971tTcygYWaQcgCu_jkXXoNbewmWEqspw7zr2v8y9uj7tqjyAv3SnosGQrS1XA-6laJ5iD42rKsIIc0cPfImQ/s4032/IMG_1783.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_fs__j_aRXJEILAYAF85x9gmj8Pr0ogO8g2QGOKVGQUBbIDZeIA_T871J8wu3EbdFfd-LzZ5KBSGf2elPEu4mQFBy98eL971tTcygYWaQcgCu_jkXXoNbewmWEqspw7zr2v8y9uj7tqjyAv3SnosGQrS1XA-6laJ5iD42rKsIIc0cPfImQ/w400-h300/IMG_1783.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Place de la Bourse in the Miroir d'eau (actually less than half of it)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNGDRwps9wWk-wc4I0sHC5bPGcYPshY1SpYx7vFTMyoWaz7jbc5R8Q3sXWsMx7eDFjqvIauuw0C7gWAgwIc6Zb9psMMi1bjpyN2y-4gZ2XwQXgT6gX8DGtBIUZ6Iu6D99EwBy9T8DwbQJ71_9EvU2RA0sXXYNIIr6hAxgkhYHvI_fBpQ4NA/s4032/IMG_1786.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNGDRwps9wWk-wc4I0sHC5bPGcYPshY1SpYx7vFTMyoWaz7jbc5R8Q3sXWsMx7eDFjqvIauuw0C7gWAgwIc6Zb9psMMi1bjpyN2y-4gZ2XwQXgT6gX8DGtBIUZ6Iu6D99EwBy9T8DwbQJ71_9EvU2RA0sXXYNIIr6hAxgkhYHvI_fBpQ4NA/w400-h300/IMG_1786.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L'Opéra</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLrvGc9wShFk9QwCs153JDkHYXWWBXryA3kr59qik1O5RQkyOEzQRgksyYq0Gk39XpiY_BLYD_TzA-GB7Q_aJcN0SX6Zg6smmGdUwAh6iOxvvwXbIbFbNaCy2h0rPVq351ngzihMCkEjeQSNplF0UUEh21s7acZ06mB9EE4kgaNNKMfYdbvA/s4032/IMG_1787.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLrvGc9wShFk9QwCs153JDkHYXWWBXryA3kr59qik1O5RQkyOEzQRgksyYq0Gk39XpiY_BLYD_TzA-GB7Q_aJcN0SX6Zg6smmGdUwAh6iOxvvwXbIbFbNaCy2h0rPVq351ngzihMCkEjeQSNplF0UUEh21s7acZ06mB9EE4kgaNNKMfYdbvA/w400-h300/IMG_1787.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cathédrale Saint-André-de-Bordeaux</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiAAxQZFZxHgkgEBDLgJG-avwPKvRWQTyEK6stEetROU5O6xWIPNO-fqjkVake_mjhNC7tvS5SrcxOBHgAh3n0talYKl_nDm-aCIfmdIaD4d5gRvknBN69jwPLT_Ai9qEtcFIk_MeH6ljit1X9VL8k3S3USLx8dq6Qud7_ZWjllKEeh-HUjA/s4032/IMG_1792.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiAAxQZFZxHgkgEBDLgJG-avwPKvRWQTyEK6stEetROU5O6xWIPNO-fqjkVake_mjhNC7tvS5SrcxOBHgAh3n0talYKl_nDm-aCIfmdIaD4d5gRvknBN69jwPLT_Ai9qEtcFIk_MeH6ljit1X9VL8k3S3USLx8dq6Qud7_ZWjllKEeh-HUjA/w300-h400/IMG_1792.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Grosse Cloche (from our little café)</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Whew!</p><p>Back in the apartment for a little rest, we took an hour or so to plan out the next leg of our journey and book tomorrow night's Airbnb. </p><p>Bordeaux is certainly a very lovely city—but it's a city, and we're always happier to be on our bikes heading down the road. As I write this, Sonia has gone back out to seek out the very few shops that have opened today. I'm going to make supper and put the finishing touches on this entry before crashing for the night. We have a train to catch tomorrow morning... but more on that later. </p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-77514916752672865362022-05-07T15:41:00.000-04:002022-05-07T15:41:29.288-04:00Cycle Tour 2022 – Day 6: In which we make it to Bordeaux <p> After a glorious sleep and a copious breakfast, for which we had only to walk down the hall, we said goodbye to our hostess at <a href="https://www.domainedegaia.com">Domaine de Gaïa</a> (and if you're in the area, I don't think you'll be disappointed) and headed back down to the Piste Roger Lapébie and toward Bordeaux. As we were riding away, I remarked to Sonia that, for me, the mornings are truly what make these trips special. I can take or leave the afternoons. But the mornings—the fresh air, singing birds, awakening landscape, the sense of renewed adventure—are magical. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVUYdHfwcgAKbB5jwBzU5IDxgCZ7CQMv9Bi_J54VJ4uCctFg9PRUFOfSW4Lsei0ANQDSWCgpXW1FX8vYHtBa9ZY82eyRjGcFsKREK25lE3GeA35KblQK-r59zJmSaqfJPw48IbcMFvPjhBq9NSg6w-BvfqWtqJYp9qVc0HJASXN8pPPn4ng/s4032/IMG_1762.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVUYdHfwcgAKbB5jwBzU5IDxgCZ7CQMv9Bi_J54VJ4uCctFg9PRUFOfSW4Lsei0ANQDSWCgpXW1FX8vYHtBa9ZY82eyRjGcFsKREK25lE3GeA35KblQK-r59zJmSaqfJPw48IbcMFvPjhBq9NSg6w-BvfqWtqJYp9qVc0HJASXN8pPPn4ng/w400-h300/IMG_1762.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p>The PRL is a wonderful rail trail that reminds me a little of the Petit train du nord in Quebec, but also of some of the rail trails in the Eastern Townships. It's beautifully paved and cuts through vineyards, farmland, and small towns—all picturesque in the extreme. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhICITZYVun4uAKwt7HvezKug95OWMqWepLx-jyHkJZtuCjM3JobZPgtAeiSfSFT5VMUd8jXCV_2I2GHHwUQF_fx-xAWZmZIZx95CNTEeHa4h9sqDyTP-oKChZrzAVKqDmkdFpjsSBEg_OYu27x7Wo_nYGVyMR-90QMYO1Sq3STgJUvQIGq5g/s4032/IMG_1765.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhICITZYVun4uAKwt7HvezKug95OWMqWepLx-jyHkJZtuCjM3JobZPgtAeiSfSFT5VMUd8jXCV_2I2GHHwUQF_fx-xAWZmZIZx95CNTEeHa4h9sqDyTP-oKChZrzAVKqDmkdFpjsSBEg_OYu27x7Wo_nYGVyMR-90QMYO1Sq3STgJUvQIGq5g/w300-h400/IMG_1765.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cool tunnel on the PRL</td></tr></tbody></table><p>At Sauve, we headed into town to have a look at the old Abbey, but both it and the town's only patisserie were closed (the latter permanently, alas), so we had a short look around and headed back to the bike path.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_NfSdjibvB0HTLFl_yXiRVRX72hzNYUzIBpXHqfFTvEg55RCpCUcwOt8MDXhLALKI5-F4PAk3f9w_a5dldrEtGqFbYfsfRbovDX64zaaKbytrm4jDjoktbimVsvi2Dcby135yp3GHbdQVfrQj7YBO__RwiK18rw71RQ9e8C0U25uJPwNEg/s4032/IMG_1771.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_NfSdjibvB0HTLFl_yXiRVRX72hzNYUzIBpXHqfFTvEg55RCpCUcwOt8MDXhLALKI5-F4PAk3f9w_a5dldrEtGqFbYfsfRbovDX64zaaKbytrm4jDjoktbimVsvi2Dcby135yp3GHbdQVfrQj7YBO__RwiK18rw71RQ9e8C0U25uJPwNEg/w400-h300/IMG_1771.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grand-Sauve Abbey</td></tr></tbody></table><p>We arrived in Créon, where we bought lunch provisions and a pastry but also stopped for second breakfast. From there, the trail was mostly, gloriously, downhill all the way to Bordeaux, so we made great time. We had hoped to have lunch beside the river, but most of the shoreline appears to be privately owned, so we forked inland at a promising green space and had lunch in a quiet spot away from the noise of the road that runs parallel to the river. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewri-RCwtsplEEaee5so1Fe8_pF6Fe2XsUVxrZfdG6HL1yf6igGJ523KWis7U_INDTxt4D-qfbTbeu6yYfvT_2etH7BXq_OWkc-DJWGdlmxKyLZ6V9vmA0nUMESaTn6WqZLcW4syR2Y81ENek9NL_ji_XitTvvtpb9E4dtryP-366XBmavA/s4032/IMG_1774.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewri-RCwtsplEEaee5so1Fe8_pF6Fe2XsUVxrZfdG6HL1yf6igGJ523KWis7U_INDTxt4D-qfbTbeu6yYfvT_2etH7BXq_OWkc-DJWGdlmxKyLZ6V9vmA0nUMESaTn6WqZLcW4syR2Y81ENek9NL_ji_XitTvvtpb9E4dtryP-366XBmavA/w400-h300/IMG_1774.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basilic Saint-Michel and the Pont de Pierre</td></tr></tbody></table><p>From there it was a very short shot down the river, across the Pont de Pierre—which allows only trams, busses, cyclists, and pedestrians, imagine that—and over to our Airbnb for the next two nights, a cute little apartment right in the old part of town. We may well need earplugs to sleep, but that's the price to pay to be where we are. </p><p>Tomorrow, the bikes will stay in the apartment (after being lugged up to flights of stairs) while we take a "rest" day and explore this ancient city. </p><p>I have updated the previous two days' posts, if you want to go back and look at some pictures.</p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-15123295794945480942022-05-06T15:17:00.001-04:002022-05-07T15:09:37.442-04:00Cycle Tour 2022: Day 5 – A long day with a satisfying ending<p>It's funny how sometimes the hardest days are the best days. </p><p>We awoke early, knowing we had a long day ahead of us. Waking up with the dawn chorus singing Hallelujah to the sun is a lovely change. We were on the road by 8:30 and eating second breakfast by 10:30 after 20 kilometres. Then, just south of La Réole, we forked off the canal, crossing the Garonne and climbing up into the town in search of groceries and lunch. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3hOpd7k3VRSObaD_XjvpCFHsf964kRYWH5Grd34ahV7rDFEy6R_TYx9lTzbq2ARVCro1rfuy_YlukE8Rrsd3GgfPAY2Jeiv0NZyjY8iAbtNd999xdebeHsDvWq7cxWuhbXQhpJ_QEguFIROZ5JwHUmGCoZ2UU9__QPElokqfJI9Ru-U-aw/s4032/IMG_1735.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3hOpd7k3VRSObaD_XjvpCFHsf964kRYWH5Grd34ahV7rDFEy6R_TYx9lTzbq2ARVCro1rfuy_YlukE8Rrsd3GgfPAY2Jeiv0NZyjY8iAbtNd999xdebeHsDvWq7cxWuhbXQhpJ_QEguFIROZ5JwHUmGCoZ2UU9__QPElokqfJI9Ru-U-aw/w400-h300/IMG_1735.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7fwimZaHQXKP7fd1VC_kafZPsavNesrGRKB77OuIEGJ4u2hnmkC_okEFnB5GwbpWoAlknK_cVceWBRBwDiJbA1008-LD-wB-a3omlgC7j0p0iVuuajLoOQn5_ioWYIMSDOoD/s4032/IMG_1736.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7fwimZaHQXKP7fd1VC_kafZPsavNesrGRKB77OuIEGJ4u2hnmkC_okEFnB5GwbpWoAlknK_cVceWBRBwDiJbA1008-LD-wB-a3omlgC7j0p0iVuuajLoOQn5_ioWYIMSDOoD/w400-h300/IMG_1736.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second breakfast in the sun</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Our constant companion for the past 5 days, the Canal de la Garonne is a lovely cycle route, but after a time, even people like us, who love riding along canals, begin to find it monotonous, so we were not devastated to say goodbye. That said, lined as it is with mature overhanging trees along most of its route, I can imagine that it would be a relatively cool and relaxing ride in the hot summer months, which would no doubt add significantly to its appeal. But the path along this part of the canal is not as pleasant as parts east. It is less well-maintained and fairly bumpy from tree roots. Another reason we were glad for something new. </p><p>We spent an hour or so in La Réole, most of it trying to find our way through the twisty up-and-down roads to the little grocery store. We kept running into the same group of cycle tourists, heading in the other direction, who seemed to be having no better luck finding things than we were. We happened upon a bakery and bought sandwiches, and eventually we got to the vicinity of the grocery store using Google Maps before asking a local where it actually was. Shopping done, we were soon on our way. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4seFfgm6l6tYNXm2dt4b1gr_LooanPjjRwXwvvK0Dmfu4ISt7qN8KV9e18gbB1UWn-bTsgZ9tMC29UV2qb5BcECgxsxLqVtWLnQjUlq56tqeq1k1DplxnSeVzftzAtSM4pQtxcCuRtt9TBV6gzKwkXslkQLihul4doBR4aaKhJwy99o6Yw/s4032/IMG_1738.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4seFfgm6l6tYNXm2dt4b1gr_LooanPjjRwXwvvK0Dmfu4ISt7qN8KV9e18gbB1UWn-bTsgZ9tMC29UV2qb5BcECgxsxLqVtWLnQjUlq56tqeq1k1DplxnSeVzftzAtSM4pQtxcCuRtt9TBV6gzKwkXslkQLihul4doBR4aaKhJwy99o6Yw/w400-h300/IMG_1738.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pedestrian/cycle bridge over the Garonne into La Réole</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBMT79m_ZhFK48JgGooVBiicpvdea65ZnqKi0bchsyPTjakPHk-gs8LNVougY0PRveercUZzhibwtVCYAT6eaj3u1pvBZ6IdoMnvmi7j7hEKplcynkxXkMX8li7BQ_wxNegisfgpm8WOg2_qezax2-FBDcF5U-2o9nqrlY1zt052S5vicOA/s4032/IMG_1739.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBMT79m_ZhFK48JgGooVBiicpvdea65ZnqKi0bchsyPTjakPHk-gs8LNVougY0PRveercUZzhibwtVCYAT6eaj3u1pvBZ6IdoMnvmi7j7hEKplcynkxXkMX8li7BQ_wxNegisfgpm8WOg2_qezax2-FBDcF5U-2o9nqrlY1zt052S5vicOA/w400-h300/IMG_1739.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Réole</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The next leg of the journey was a 14 kilometre stretch along the fairly busy and hilly (by our standards) D670 to Sauveterre-de-Guyenne, a cute little town where we ate the aforementioned sandwiches in the town square with at least two other groups of cycle tourists. There was probably a quieter route to take, but it would inevitably have been longer, and our day was already pretty close to max. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Rh61i-m4Su0DXbYnzQpwJXTIJod5VC4lW5tKfMJY5IIis7WaJEKMRC1kcVvN7NqIk1pEMbsta09PaMvwxNaumKEtRWjsddI9VZIlKcGAdcQHDpfp59q5kLNHNdya68gOUBtCG8vTLC87srv9uo1f7zsbM_7EGty-thE66qUynV80rSBf1A/s4032/IMG_1743.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Rh61i-m4Su0DXbYnzQpwJXTIJod5VC4lW5tKfMJY5IIis7WaJEKMRC1kcVvN7NqIk1pEMbsta09PaMvwxNaumKEtRWjsddI9VZIlKcGAdcQHDpfp59q5kLNHNdya68gOUBtCG8vTLC87srv9uo1f7zsbM_7EGty-thE66qUynV80rSBf1A/w400-h300/IMG_1743.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhieFnYNiCd3PDiLemV_ZXmsz1mBAfXrawk53bu63ahm3gQMMxCpUxw03dNUPbFIeq9ghaRryvNvvlxgzaXieqS1sFLd7ymkFG1ktkmCd_qg_4Oo68jDTAqXNSj6lRSNRCWHD3ZfV5nWEs5TGiUiay1tzsklC0qUbEEkpFTyYtuAQnsavepfw/s4032/IMG_1744.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhieFnYNiCd3PDiLemV_ZXmsz1mBAfXrawk53bu63ahm3gQMMxCpUxw03dNUPbFIeq9ghaRryvNvvlxgzaXieqS1sFLd7ymkFG1ktkmCd_qg_4Oo68jDTAqXNSj6lRSNRCWHD3ZfV5nWEs5TGiUiay1tzsklC0qUbEEkpFTyYtuAQnsavepfw/w400-h300/IMG_1744.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p><span> <span> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTu8u-ru6FmYxpy3C38ZS494nsF-YlyCbYzIq5-ngCZq4Q4DGMHpZnutmmelEj2PH9huZkf4w8V_xY14BcJFDeh5HO9c8mkiwDP-bpaPL-pbnAWf7N251BXSDn1nDiUXZsJvXRX7-i6z1kymIbThyNvvP0c9W3zUdjzvYrGBrTuy0XFnHoWw/s4032/IMG_1745.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTu8u-ru6FmYxpy3C38ZS494nsF-YlyCbYzIq5-ngCZq4Q4DGMHpZnutmmelEj2PH9huZkf4w8V_xY14BcJFDeh5HO9c8mkiwDP-bpaPL-pbnAWf7N251BXSDn1nDiUXZsJvXRX7-i6z1kymIbThyNvvP0c9W3zUdjzvYrGBrTuy0XFnHoWw/w400-h300/IMG_1745.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch in Sauveterre-de-Guyenne</td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></p><p>Then it was onto the Piste Roger Lapébie, a rail-trail that runs from Sauveterre to Bordeaux. Lapébie was apparently a local cyclist who won the Tour de France in 1937. We had about 20 kilometres to do on this trail, and although its ups and downs were quite gentle, as is usual for a rail trail, our legs were beginning to feel the strain. We stopped a few times to rest and check our progress and pulled into our digs for the night at just about 4 pm on the dot. The bike computer said we had pedalled 68 km. Sonia performed like a champ.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkfT27VK1YUgzee-eYKtU5g1k_MQG0AdIpLL6ln9BGik-yjTU1qk-ZUqWgoRMGvOb83dSRPLcEFTmqoaeUvpNWBKPN0MaF-2cTgujKslI3C_MC6-DWUKhEVJfbZ08lpcn13FEuoyv3Vs2v-3Ix9rh7jYtri1tKLBNwZGScmGH6Al-pQg2SA/s4032/IMG_1747.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkfT27VK1YUgzee-eYKtU5g1k_MQG0AdIpLL6ln9BGik-yjTU1qk-ZUqWgoRMGvOb83dSRPLcEFTmqoaeUvpNWBKPN0MaF-2cTgujKslI3C_MC6-DWUKhEVJfbZ08lpcn13FEuoyv3Vs2v-3Ix9rh7jYtri1tKLBNwZGScmGH6Al-pQg2SA/w400-h300/IMG_1747.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIpPtxTPFz7mc5_kb9TxIIXbNJ2AcdQIseHx-QYlP3S_jF41dqiIlpaXgGM6oqSLCYDkbz8pQDQ_smBMfsVPioQ--NOKzW9Iz3FyX83hhSH-Cq3EuFDCn9rUAmKf7aWavayNsbG71gkmK2oHoCYFEiSeDkeYDRZcZX5nnMahdxYoGWOI1hiQ/s4032/IMG_1749.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIpPtxTPFz7mc5_kb9TxIIXbNJ2AcdQIseHx-QYlP3S_jF41dqiIlpaXgGM6oqSLCYDkbz8pQDQ_smBMfsVPioQ--NOKzW9Iz3FyX83hhSH-Cq3EuFDCn9rUAmKf7aWavayNsbG71gkmK2oHoCYFEiSeDkeYDRZcZX5nnMahdxYoGWOI1hiQ/w300-h400/IMG_1749.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcLfPwFc15XYBv05wDu5VSzoWm0Rx1TbQ7SDLQ8byHmrfHL2lcInX0wJwKtd0YJkYyBAzsYpXgVokgJCUuFRIInMMUcA99H2hMt-iG_-PUTDC3j5GREMT3vs3PHVJgBcInmPdVCNn9hyZxOdWj6b40I7KslRGH3IoFSM8S8T6_OOZ2R6Wsw/s4032/IMG_1750.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcLfPwFc15XYBv05wDu5VSzoWm0Rx1TbQ7SDLQ8byHmrfHL2lcInX0wJwKtd0YJkYyBAzsYpXgVokgJCUuFRIInMMUcA99H2hMt-iG_-PUTDC3j5GREMT3vs3PHVJgBcInmPdVCNn9hyZxOdWj6b40I7KslRGH3IoFSM8S8T6_OOZ2R6Wsw/w400-h300/IMG_1750.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p>Fortunately, Sonia had also brilliantly booked us into a lovely bed and breakfast in a newly renovated estate. There are several rooms, but thus far, we have the place to ourselves. I write this beside a lovely pool overlooking a fairly wild hedgerow, beyond which vineyards stretch to the horizon. Our hostess is providing us with supper and breakfast tomorrow, so there's not much to do except savour the day and reflect on the misfortunes of having to deal with slow wifi and poor cell reception. </p><p>The humanity!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyqbQC7W5WjxeE-zjfus-aN8EUKuFeFC_rLRSsoDynelZHU_1yZvclzk4QvJHK8R6O_AIwsHEVRHC_iT6_lnVbrMQ2KmVHM6-k7N_Bu65R1VGOMDMbfjdPNj4vE5pcmFPmwU9hBsAUXFahdyza3dpNB8xdttpGpIpiLSbMPlW2jK7tTpZYA/s4032/67354780306__A41E7D84-312E-4DAC-BFD2-C7ABCC5FDC3E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyqbQC7W5WjxeE-zjfus-aN8EUKuFeFC_rLRSsoDynelZHU_1yZvclzk4QvJHK8R6O_AIwsHEVRHC_iT6_lnVbrMQ2KmVHM6-k7N_Bu65R1VGOMDMbfjdPNj4vE5pcmFPmwU9hBsAUXFahdyza3dpNB8xdttpGpIpiLSbMPlW2jK7tTpZYA/w400-h300/67354780306__A41E7D84-312E-4DAC-BFD2-C7ABCC5FDC3E.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRH6GSe0x9b63T0Lp3c3FYWq8I_-OoGwlWukqFyBkrlsOXvsRZAmVcX9BPilUJUG486DxMmzan3cnTgT5L8uUGTf9msbatPCW_3aEVU0bol36x6y_QsLOukStNqMi9yjMfuJU8C3uLsrkK1ZDzHhybdereTrrU0xkq0ype5qQekqpvVbrBkA/s4032/IMG_1753.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRH6GSe0x9b63T0Lp3c3FYWq8I_-OoGwlWukqFyBkrlsOXvsRZAmVcX9BPilUJUG486DxMmzan3cnTgT5L8uUGTf9msbatPCW_3aEVU0bol36x6y_QsLOukStNqMi9yjMfuJU8C3uLsrkK1ZDzHhybdereTrrU0xkq0ype5qQekqpvVbrBkA/w400-h300/IMG_1753.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi74zqpsfGefjnzW5oVgUzcxlns-HkXS-toDIIHhXcQ164oaiJzKlVhLLc49KtbiRcGkEFP_X7JGxyNAZiZqpB4IW_9AM9jbO2OcRXJxeInMvxEklH-222QMYTFhl7st1kouvsFTpA0B-p3E1W1SnEFS3ymQcmj8QGwLQTQ-rp3MiHWVmo_w/s4032/IMG_1760.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi74zqpsfGefjnzW5oVgUzcxlns-HkXS-toDIIHhXcQ164oaiJzKlVhLLc49KtbiRcGkEFP_X7JGxyNAZiZqpB4IW_9AM9jbO2OcRXJxeInMvxEklH-222QMYTFhl7st1kouvsFTpA0B-p3E1W1SnEFS3ymQcmj8QGwLQTQ-rp3MiHWVmo_w/w300-h400/IMG_1760.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-70877189200042211852022-05-05T15:25:00.003-04:002022-05-07T14:41:41.229-04:00Cycle Tour 2022: Day 4 – Zen and the art of bike ridingAnother day riding along the Canal de la Garonne. It sounds boring when I say it like that, but the canal does manifest different personalities as you go along. Today, after finding our way out of Agen, the banks of the canal tended to be much higher. So we were not riding right along the water, and it was more like riding in the forest. We stopped for tea and second breakfast at a lock somewhere after Sérignac-sur-Garonne and then pushed on to Buzet-sur-Baïse, where we found an open bakery to buy some sandwiches for lunch. The main street had been dressed up in preparation for the village festival the next day. The carnival rides were all set up and ready to go, including one decorated in a sexist style that I remember from my youth but that I haven't seen in North America in over 50 years. Oof. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC8HZYqR_KG8t_NxtQoxDnCRhvGckoRlfol6_qNXUEbNEcQcoqtt56y8uzWEZWSG-9uHIEEPnBcBUL_B1mXd_gcA6m3wb91PtDedXCE5nBcoT8Uh5DP0QDx0O5phVbuDr29Pq7b8E3Y1biH96ITIEeBpeRDg42gJZ122ZwRlExBp6uIY4Cg/s3088/IMG_1719.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC8HZYqR_KG8t_NxtQoxDnCRhvGckoRlfol6_qNXUEbNEcQcoqtt56y8uzWEZWSG-9uHIEEPnBcBUL_B1mXd_gcA6m3wb91PtDedXCE5nBcoT8Uh5DP0QDx0O5phVbuDr29Pq7b8E3Y1biH96ITIEeBpeRDg42gJZ122ZwRlExBp6uIY4Cg/w400-h300/IMG_1719.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyq32h83m2m2u77YrGpW9dQt4BM_JftcjZAOn5nECpXVqFTHSwL_4tBII5vUl9kn1UjcVJQzpwqEoFg4Tq9YmSXxsva9mAxZCIbVWMW1VxPYT_MywtZz5IAMKGUjY6yExVudhEaGwOndiYuVN9DH6f0w3Dv6ydcXh4JET0DZ17zP7HVXjXA/s4032/IMG_1725.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyq32h83m2m2u77YrGpW9dQt4BM_JftcjZAOn5nECpXVqFTHSwL_4tBII5vUl9kn1UjcVJQzpwqEoFg4Tq9YmSXxsva9mAxZCIbVWMW1VxPYT_MywtZz5IAMKGUjY6yExVudhEaGwOndiYuVN9DH6f0w3Dv6ydcXh4JET0DZ17zP7HVXjXA/w400-h300/IMG_1725.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, France? </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>We had intended to eat at the lovely little port there, but the town workers decided just then to start doing some noisy construction work, so we rode on 5 kilometres down the canal to Damazan at a strange little hillside park with two dilapidated iron benches and a sign warning people and cyclists to stay off grass. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMhye8dUA7li-FDOq1pxjTnHb6gbvY68Pe60P9BCzwxfTuJzh91XkuIrSraGdtKtr7DBxqyrXixMeljvTt80DOfGDKiw-Z0ooALilPCLHPf2BvbaoAbve_FuKLaet4Z24rCqtP__4dkJkhklLnStG37RiYrnIj3bWvI-U5YUliq5KNEaIOQ/s4032/IMG_1729.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMhye8dUA7li-FDOq1pxjTnHb6gbvY68Pe60P9BCzwxfTuJzh91XkuIrSraGdtKtr7DBxqyrXixMeljvTt80DOfGDKiw-Z0ooALilPCLHPf2BvbaoAbve_FuKLaet4Z24rCqtP__4dkJkhklLnStG37RiYrnIj3bWvI-U5YUliq5KNEaIOQ/w400-h300/IMG_1729.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Canal de Garonne is lined with plane trees, which are, alas, threatened by disease.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJK2dMI-0kg0UxJ5JmWbBJ1d-_RRFfGtfoDyh-WeEsbMzKsocYuoP3OqC7fMKBtjA2CfWJESrN-vAh63bHedw3yh5e_XTHZYMnAC_suqx5yf4U9jzHw51aWDANJhMYoRMO8R5J42hmLIEi0fG0zI2d1HNlagxqH3Y8sCXngQ3gcXFAZLWdw/s4032/IMG_1732.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJK2dMI-0kg0UxJ5JmWbBJ1d-_RRFfGtfoDyh-WeEsbMzKsocYuoP3OqC7fMKBtjA2CfWJESrN-vAh63bHedw3yh5e_XTHZYMnAC_suqx5yf4U9jzHw51aWDANJhMYoRMO8R5J42hmLIEi0fG0zI2d1HNlagxqH3Y8sCXngQ3gcXFAZLWdw/w400-h300/IMG_1732.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plantations of what appear to be poplars are seen all along the canal</td></tr></tbody></table><div><div><br /></div><div>Then it was off to our Airbnb in Le Mas-d'Agenais (I have no idea what this means), a cozy little pool house with shitty wifi. As the Stones once sang, "You don't always get what you want..." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84GfoDuBU9lF2HH_MW_jladBlbCknZX7hqwLdNEujasftzstJemoXxHFxVECvQMdY0msivOLscR5nSGomBYhhJbo2Z8BcgVti5LBPlFdbmnXeYDoIjvTm9FVHSUy-smBYjK3YU5MX7nxwWIvXRZstR2NFh5Vc98wgWmIYlRK3nKI1bot-RA/s4032/IMG_1734.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84GfoDuBU9lF2HH_MW_jladBlbCknZX7hqwLdNEujasftzstJemoXxHFxVECvQMdY0msivOLscR5nSGomBYhhJbo2Z8BcgVti5LBPlFdbmnXeYDoIjvTm9FVHSUy-smBYjK3YU5MX7nxwWIvXRZstR2NFh5Vc98wgWmIYlRK3nKI1bot-RA/w400-h300/IMG_1734.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>Our lazy beginning days have now caught up with us, and we have been sort of forced into a pretty big day tomorrow, so we're going to try and get an early start. Then it's on to Bordeaux for the weekend, where we have already booked an Airbnb for two nights. So though we have a long day ahead, we also have the great luxury of not having to think about the next days lodging for a couple of nights. </div><div><br /></div><div>The weird wifi means that I'm using my data plan to write this, so I'll edit this post tomorrow with pictures. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-83733370808292527392022-05-04T14:53:00.000-04:002022-05-04T14:53:45.006-04:00Cycle Tour 2022: Day 3 – Just another day in paradise<span style="font-family: arial;">Today was the first day I truly reconnected with the joy of cycle touring. After a solid night's sleep in Moissac (we woke up at 9!), we were on the road by 10:20, riding along the canal with the mist of the morning still upon us. As I mentioned, Moissac is on the Chemin de Compostelle, and there were many more people walking the Canal de la Garonne than cycling; but cyclists and walkers had two things in common: a smile on their face and a hearty <i>bonjour</i> for their fellow travellers. Riding in the fresh spring air, birds singing, the love of my life rolling along beside me—what more could a man ask for?</span><div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">At one point, we stopped to take a picture where the Garonne and canal come quite close together, and Sonia struck up a conversation with some pilgrims. Turns out, everyone was heading to the town of Auvillar, which had been on Sonia's list of possible places see and/or stay at. So, although it is a a few kilometres off the canal route, we decided to head "on road" to check it out. </span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE9XK9GW_RIC6JyJ8SoMfOtPBGCkgw8Jcj0Hw9Zz87LTkmPL5ttiqEzJiByulQsw2MvX41XOBLT-WRtGHZqu5klaqT7f0O7bRTcMgSxeJ4JN2XDPmfSxQ6lcdKCMQiwP80zxMlE2QDpK17jFUNy56fUre6RhXys2jpv8k_vIjyZ5XHdYGeEw/s4032/IMG_1691.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE9XK9GW_RIC6JyJ8SoMfOtPBGCkgw8Jcj0Hw9Zz87LTkmPL5ttiqEzJiByulQsw2MvX41XOBLT-WRtGHZqu5klaqT7f0O7bRTcMgSxeJ4JN2XDPmfSxQ6lcdKCMQiwP80zxMlE2QDpK17jFUNy56fUre6RhXys2jpv8k_vIjyZ5XHdYGeEw/w400-h300/IMG_1691.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: arial;">La Garonne</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEJ0u5__qPS85XYm86XbehoL0FnWSthFodYeJYI-Gzv-TqsUJoxjF9IShzn0Xb-QFquE-5jtQZYOectGjlVTcsE3WceUVgodQp4HqEuAvnOLys5Uax2vAq4Nwouehv9v22FFXAGYHcfqwAYw7sgJpf3059RkUk6hgadDAR_B3qoTisXfvgg/s4032/IMG_1692.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEJ0u5__qPS85XYm86XbehoL0FnWSthFodYeJYI-Gzv-TqsUJoxjF9IShzn0Xb-QFquE-5jtQZYOectGjlVTcsE3WceUVgodQp4HqEuAvnOLys5Uax2vAq4Nwouehv9v22FFXAGYHcfqwAYw7sgJpf3059RkUk6hgadDAR_B3qoTisXfvgg/w400-h300/IMG_1692.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Sonia chats with some pilgrims</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;">Auvillar is (of course) perched atop a hill (can't let the pilgrims have it too easy), so getting there was a rude awakening for our legs, which had not encountered much incline at all thus far. But it was an effort well-rewarded. Auvillar is one of those lovely well-preserved Medieval fort towns that one finds in Europe and that never seem to disappoint. We looked in the Église Saint-Pierre and trundled around the old town, where we came across the cutest little postage stamp of a park that absolutely commanded us to stop and have our lunch there. </span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoCi9_5fU5oXMEczeCZBwVY_qsj2k0WrdKAqjfZL5ufFvzOMheAuacOoe4Nh7oT9MYKB4H8cyNZEY79FUNj4qE5K1K-K7DSEa-6BGOGF0hDdW5Iwuc5uCecmlkotDzZhof6xJPTfI-x6zD1YPoISZnHWbDZ8L3N2fWIAVS4fWZ0FbDRLPJQ/s4032/IMG_1701.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoCi9_5fU5oXMEczeCZBwVY_qsj2k0WrdKAqjfZL5ufFvzOMheAuacOoe4Nh7oT9MYKB4H8cyNZEY79FUNj4qE5K1K-K7DSEa-6BGOGF0hDdW5Iwuc5uCecmlkotDzZhof6xJPTfI-x6zD1YPoISZnHWbDZ8L3N2fWIAVS4fWZ0FbDRLPJQ/w400-h300/IMG_1701.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">L'église Saint-Pierre</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYc7QfHJh9w8bN7EH0PjjKpr9jyj-L_l9wgn6galhgwz5o9_ypQ-DlHRtyYBxb9ZIgHHXMsg4zzLo-ktIzIViqDMIcBUGOgiuHfJGYZ8q4nYMc13vqs3Unf_Wu060r_-kqHrYPRQYsD8MbQ6BC9MX69eU18qzN2Nsa0cZL1Ms-1enQVMtPA/s4032/IMG_1706.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYc7QfHJh9w8bN7EH0PjjKpr9jyj-L_l9wgn6galhgwz5o9_ypQ-DlHRtyYBxb9ZIgHHXMsg4zzLo-ktIzIViqDMIcBUGOgiuHfJGYZ8q4nYMc13vqs3Unf_Wu060r_-kqHrYPRQYsD8MbQ6BC9MX69eU18qzN2Nsa0cZL1Ms-1enQVMtPA/w300-h400/IMG_1706.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The clock tower at Auvillar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuPm_R66V3LXTiz_kt3XvvAVj7DX0ROZFURKXIxrEA2bqFieHhVkoEds8OlliTcmjoTRm5-jk8wE3nn1Uh7jwqf5FMd6VlkXY2mbvPOI-xcsuS7_s7-QxCYZ-p6rrX92XBOT41P7kwXKkzXgxiURW8yWiYYKhssePCV12Dsh36ifezBhIFQ/s4032/IMG_1708.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuPm_R66V3LXTiz_kt3XvvAVj7DX0ROZFURKXIxrEA2bqFieHhVkoEds8OlliTcmjoTRm5-jk8wE3nn1Uh7jwqf5FMd6VlkXY2mbvPOI-xcsuS7_s7-QxCYZ-p6rrX92XBOT41P7kwXKkzXgxiURW8yWiYYKhssePCV12Dsh36ifezBhIFQ/w400-h300/IMG_1708.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The perfect picnic spot</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;">Then it was back down the hill and down the road to Valance d'Agen (where we had planned to sleep last night, if you recall), and onto to the canal once more. From there, we rode past the Golfech nuclear station and several other little towns, stopping occasionally to rest, until we reached Agen and the exquisite little Airbnb suite we had rented for the evening. After showering and settling in, we went to explore the lovely old section of town, much of which is blocked from car traffic, which always makes things more pleasant. Then it was back to the apartment to make a simple supper, drink a glass of wine (graciously provided by our host), and begin the search for tomorrow's digs; and of course writing this chronicle. </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14WbjiUNfJUrtSYKM2W1nm2No89h_rtBJGYXh46uoQYgGpBz0hHxipZL0s7hCvLe1DQXO6NJXTxkMEwwecfcn8t01kp0-s69OWjjfdcfEYuEne4i7vztRXSs_NfQjLy2_8ZMwdOokEmvvV8YHbAeYSF_ejTp6Qwmwf6IWB8fubb_2rF7wFw/s4032/IMG_1693.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14WbjiUNfJUrtSYKM2W1nm2No89h_rtBJGYXh46uoQYgGpBz0hHxipZL0s7hCvLe1DQXO6NJXTxkMEwwecfcn8t01kp0-s69OWjjfdcfEYuEne4i7vztRXSs_NfQjLy2_8ZMwdOokEmvvV8YHbAeYSF_ejTp6Qwmwf6IWB8fubb_2rF7wFw/w400-h300/IMG_1693.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJHVBn7odufn-jonYa4ZEiFavMtZ68V4qT4Rz9Y6Cx49f8Jr3pC8V_99gcKqgsLx55c5dY8c8GqN23Ap3Fq3_N0jZrOMPn6WyWvGDJiKMiUt04V6mxfB_KyR82ZVYKFMUwsPcBniWq1haXHFStoSzismXj89Qle1WgeNGhluAiousuLbhWOQ/s4032/IMG_1713.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJHVBn7odufn-jonYa4ZEiFavMtZ68V4qT4Rz9Y6Cx49f8Jr3pC8V_99gcKqgsLx55c5dY8c8GqN23Ap3Fq3_N0jZrOMPn6WyWvGDJiKMiUt04V6mxfB_KyR82ZVYKFMUwsPcBniWq1haXHFStoSzismXj89Qle1WgeNGhluAiousuLbhWOQ/w400-h300/IMG_1713.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Sans commentaire</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;">It feels like this tour is well and truly underway now. </span></div></div>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-51765084979614247782022-05-03T15:23:00.002-04:002022-05-03T15:23:54.645-04:00Cycle Tour 2022: Days 1 and 2 – a very pleasant "route canal"<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And so another cycle adventure beings. I tend to combine the log entries for days 1 and 2 because the first day is inevitably a jet lag-induced haze; no one wants to read that. Even today, I’m not sure how poetic I’ll be able to wax, but my brain has not shut down at the mere thought of writing a blog post. So there’s that. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Our flight from Montreal to Toulouse was at the ungodly hour of 11:40 pm, and there were clearly many other flights leaving around the same time, because line for security was 50 minutes long. Fortunately, we had arrived at the airport in plenty of time and were not in any rush. Getting the bikes in bags and onto the oversize conveyor went smoothly; having done it 3 times previously takes all the stress out of it. The flight took off a good 30 minutes late and we landed in Toulouse 45 minutes late on a smooth flight and a spare seat between us… ideal conditions to get some sleep on the plane, except for the baby that basically cried the whole flight. I sympathize for the mother, but, yeah, very little sleep. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; text-align: left;"></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlSUOUvLfbFfoh-MX-g5RNLm3RwpEJ7HrTqVxCyTOxSLfh2NOjuSY2SslkF1fWKAMUXIWUUK3UuLOLQltE2YcShx7Y68KfDl8x3q-cbkXr1lYrISBDhhHMbVeDvBBA1dFtmp1OXZjYavGe_jpo1IzSWyv3CBgbfn8zfKYVv_EGxNYQeAOvQ/s3088/IMG_1655.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlSUOUvLfbFfoh-MX-g5RNLm3RwpEJ7HrTqVxCyTOxSLfh2NOjuSY2SslkF1fWKAMUXIWUUK3UuLOLQltE2YcShx7Y68KfDl8x3q-cbkXr1lYrISBDhhHMbVeDvBBA1dFtmp1OXZjYavGe_jpo1IzSWyv3CBgbfn8zfKYVv_EGxNYQeAOvQ/w400-h300/IMG_1655.jpeg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPm1rdyMqh621YYei2KIBl4gjlQ5XTIS4YwO7JoItLNqX4_1TS4PsgkPwcAIGby5DqLIB1wIc9YJkD-Yz5u74g6Wsvs5qI8-mNLgSZ29MBFTFieBr4OU4_b4A7iMKFHulO6wDYnvb1VFjgebd9W9500oFt88tvaDNZjRWSKQ-gWbDP0HnfaQ/s3088/IMG_1656.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPm1rdyMqh621YYei2KIBl4gjlQ5XTIS4YwO7JoItLNqX4_1TS4PsgkPwcAIGby5DqLIB1wIc9YJkD-Yz5u74g6Wsvs5qI8-mNLgSZ29MBFTFieBr4OU4_b4A7iMKFHulO6wDYnvb1VFjgebd9W9500oFt88tvaDNZjRWSKQ-gWbDP0HnfaQ/w400-h300/IMG_1656.jpeg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Getting ready</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The bikes arrived safe and sound. The chains were even still on the gears. Got them set up, changed clothes, got out of the airport, and had a bite to eat (a couple of emergency sandwiches packed just for this purpose). Then it was off to a nearby Decathlon (a French sporting-goods store) to pick up a canister of gas for our little burner. We had hoped to immediately get an eSim plan for Sonia, but after inquiring, it seems like that may be more complicated than we thought. I bought a data plan for my eSim slot, but it’s nice to have an actual phone number to use as well. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0efXyxug64Pe0dr7yaXOAhCRFTvC-R3fpbLau0ieuzCUJN_ts8q0LG_L-jdjfJvhqd_D0SzCSamrOzunKmJ0XCkP3X7ULI7FdWPJOTu9IdWzqHaNTQOU5yiGAe5oI-1dXKMZimpaTqHn-fk3df5WgeazvYLeHg2-rQITYhCD7O-OCK_zlWQ/s4032/IMG_1657.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0efXyxug64Pe0dr7yaXOAhCRFTvC-R3fpbLau0ieuzCUJN_ts8q0LG_L-jdjfJvhqd_D0SzCSamrOzunKmJ0XCkP3X7ULI7FdWPJOTu9IdWzqHaNTQOU5yiGAe5oI-1dXKMZimpaTqHn-fk3df5WgeazvYLeHg2-rQITYhCD7O-OCK_zlWQ/w300-h400/IMG_1657.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The French greeted us with mounted police!</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Then it was a matter of wending our way through the outskirts of Toulouse to the Canal de la Garonne, which will be our companion for the next little while. After that, it was a really easy and quite lovely 30 km to our AirBnb for the night in Grisolles. We checked in, went to get some groceries before the shop closed at 7:30, made supper, made some half-hearted attempt to get our panniers somewhat organized before we collapsed.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvyEyNGhh0sUQr8JAEwWGEFJKLLzCkQm1U_ihjQxuO24_ycD_qB3c0tI3G77UOpZHAa_D-II9DPZ64BN39YIvHOhTuiq_5f722Ekt8srF5LIDIUjKACfV4SxmJzIb2jJReV_nYWnom-gMnXRumAwFOLt2CE_lcqSGQXf7BPjdD1GBObSmLg/s3088/IMG_1665.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvyEyNGhh0sUQr8JAEwWGEFJKLLzCkQm1U_ihjQxuO24_ycD_qB3c0tI3G77UOpZHAa_D-II9DPZ64BN39YIvHOhTuiq_5f722Ekt8srF5LIDIUjKACfV4SxmJzIb2jJReV_nYWnom-gMnXRumAwFOLt2CE_lcqSGQXf7BPjdD1GBObSmLg/w400-h300/IMG_1665.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin68x929SeX5khO17-INdTW10h0x-Btd2iayM2D5gkXWv5HCY1Kfz5gS-UW4uMShUXXcigbUYOJfsVYHUpY0qN47BJJxwAGqA-yUI-TjoZrR2FtEGxuGDsSrDtXV_vL484ucRTckuXQyqeQe1fw-fqUU8Fs1P8QLfVylFmTTRn1ROG2NcWBw/s4032/IMG_1671.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin68x929SeX5khO17-INdTW10h0x-Btd2iayM2D5gkXWv5HCY1Kfz5gS-UW4uMShUXXcigbUYOJfsVYHUpY0qN47BJJxwAGqA-yUI-TjoZrR2FtEGxuGDsSrDtXV_vL484ucRTckuXQyqeQe1fw-fqUU8Fs1P8QLfVylFmTTRn1ROG2NcWBw/w400-h300/IMG_1671.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Today we got a rather late start; after breakfasting, making a few more inquires about places to stay tonight, and organizing our panniers, we were out the door by about 11. Then it was a day of fits and starts, stopping to take pictures quite often, going to explore the canal-side towns and attractions, and being generally lazy. We rode into Montech in search of a patisserie and found one about a kilometre off the path. After picking up a rustic baguette and a couple of Jésuites (a kind of almond pastry—totally forgot to take a picture), we had lunch beside the canal and performed this tour’s first tea ceremony. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4xl8X2PWnh5QtB47bcr4wC-yMHi_pOOrprQSwLI5yrDvJc_LJiAY-5wUWA-D24gQBJP-zGPb3DNPNRiybtKFAWKw0ftVUiNbalOfgxkrTEmp-vwWDLMtvcCJoyv7JqXUsGkOuSJOy3izpFvOVQD4PmBxEaXzj6Bp8V7O_oKZGLzsr5W3GAQ/s4032/IMG_1673.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4xl8X2PWnh5QtB47bcr4wC-yMHi_pOOrprQSwLI5yrDvJc_LJiAY-5wUWA-D24gQBJP-zGPb3DNPNRiybtKFAWKw0ftVUiNbalOfgxkrTEmp-vwWDLMtvcCJoyv7JqXUsGkOuSJOy3izpFvOVQD4PmBxEaXzj6Bp8V7O_oKZGLzsr5W3GAQ/s320/IMG_1673.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumpUFNDsl2DMCo43_Mv7fWwR9dxf5JYCtAaf-1haBV19m5dLTf21_SHyGYVGPVcua08LVhiUL_cF8kGc8avNJZKmoXHYHZ-n2FYpTvdJX4YZwXmcql-0gRoZx6OCXmNAULZaiwe01KVThRW98cbhyvZMV-YkOpeQ3Ab4fUbpGWAxnM3tbEQ/s4032/IMG_1674.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumpUFNDsl2DMCo43_Mv7fWwR9dxf5JYCtAaf-1haBV19m5dLTf21_SHyGYVGPVcua08LVhiUL_cF8kGc8avNJZKmoXHYHZ-n2FYpTvdJX4YZwXmcql-0gRoZx6OCXmNAULZaiwe01KVThRW98cbhyvZMV-YkOpeQ3Ab4fUbpGWAxnM3tbEQ/s320/IMG_1674.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIhRBGevuaVP6UBuZyOJIW3Ds5jbPr8w7NhSTRMtFw1ZPSQu0OFCaiRimzyAs2hnZUUqKX6nxYxSOPDIiOo5nkA7D2eMg1XEQJdk3u4AOc793bzkYZ9wTuvTCSJh2kpSMFxIDiSS_Q8esHgdL7ghKMN9xAVpoD7NKn-hY_NxF8YARxaIalQ/s3088/IMG_1677.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIhRBGevuaVP6UBuZyOJIW3Ds5jbPr8w7NhSTRMtFw1ZPSQu0OFCaiRimzyAs2hnZUUqKX6nxYxSOPDIiOo5nkA7D2eMg1XEQJdk3u4AOc793bzkYZ9wTuvTCSJh2kpSMFxIDiSS_Q8esHgdL7ghKMN9xAVpoD7NKn-hY_NxF8YARxaIalQ/s320/IMG_1677.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDukm1DZK83nqM9DlTlxLOU8DoyL-vLwBEVFHMMZUd7RWVmVhijKVtvu95MblOdS-6xp3kk0WIlX5_32xoA2Ib7LShJ5j7sfzyWMTtcdf8Cm5j4A9FRNcTeVABN4BmfSfhg7Gda7U8VZfapFwb-7ZTw5idCFWHBTHdj_dVv8VH_9V2tgDesw/s4032/IMG_1679.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDukm1DZK83nqM9DlTlxLOU8DoyL-vLwBEVFHMMZUd7RWVmVhijKVtvu95MblOdS-6xp3kk0WIlX5_32xoA2Ib7LShJ5j7sfzyWMTtcdf8Cm5j4A9FRNcTeVABN4BmfSfhg7Gda7U8VZfapFwb-7ZTw5idCFWHBTHdj_dVv8VH_9V2tgDesw/s320/IMG_1679.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Then it was off down the canal, past the Pente d’eau de Montech, one of only two “water slopes” ever built, a sort of lock with a movable gate that takes ships up or down a slope. After that, we rode through Castelsarrasin and finally our digs for the night in Moissac. We had originally thought to make it to Valence d’Agen, but we wisely decided that the extra 18 km would be a bit too much in our still jetlagged state. With all the fitting and starting, we did about 49 km today, up from 38 yesterday. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjTBoWFZBg1p1tc6DxA0aIUf12Uasjtxy9QK9PT0sfwFLgMs6b6O4nfWU6dV02hRjShTB7WoiTFP6xOEGXgFespmONbK7SDvaHALaCJJ9GIU0kounqe1XDgy2iNCTMmXcJTMxSi5XRuivrnvPI-hHvmUbFwM9tLkn3Q24SRAX5Ruw2_yRTQ/s4032/IMG_1681.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjTBoWFZBg1p1tc6DxA0aIUf12Uasjtxy9QK9PT0sfwFLgMs6b6O4nfWU6dV02hRjShTB7WoiTFP6xOEGXgFespmONbK7SDvaHALaCJJ9GIU0kounqe1XDgy2iNCTMmXcJTMxSi5XRuivrnvPI-hHvmUbFwM9tLkn3Q24SRAX5Ruw2_yRTQ/w300-h400/IMG_1681.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pente d'eau et pente d'horison</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIc-WnzIxWiJUo2W2XoszY9CugQsNSg8Rs9Znmrf1gt_CLyBGfxmcNYpqhtwsI3e-w6AlhHLhJQhYhoi8uSs1Hig1HdtNHby3yv044xo1qWUOaThQ0j-_DPtI8_CiDNcZ20wpTFkjb9NX41PINi0l5c7vtaBqyW9eFLHaJfV1VmiQp4ax7Fw/s4032/IMG_1682.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIc-WnzIxWiJUo2W2XoszY9CugQsNSg8Rs9Znmrf1gt_CLyBGfxmcNYpqhtwsI3e-w6AlhHLhJQhYhoi8uSs1Hig1HdtNHby3yv044xo1qWUOaThQ0j-_DPtI8_CiDNcZ20wpTFkjb9NX41PINi0l5c7vtaBqyW9eFLHaJfV1VmiQp4ax7Fw/w400-h300/IMG_1682.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castelsarrasin</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXwhA_7QIZF8vIM-aNiiyKPhAzXpI1iivJ1tcRrYQjmpq686TqsrZ4Td_n0BPfRywfArAV0EEe_Z5Q4VrHmKsCzTFQ_Nq-ZczKhjflXxtMHoqbesm98XxhCg5bJYLSrFdf2oaAZ0qs7Q7Hxa17WiCgNTErQbVHHx7KoeAdbnBOW3G8OPUFA/s4032/IMG_1684.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXwhA_7QIZF8vIM-aNiiyKPhAzXpI1iivJ1tcRrYQjmpq686TqsrZ4Td_n0BPfRywfArAV0EEe_Z5Q4VrHmKsCzTFQ_Nq-ZczKhjflXxtMHoqbesm98XxhCg5bJYLSrFdf2oaAZ0qs7Q7Hxa17WiCgNTErQbVHHx7KoeAdbnBOW3G8OPUFA/w400-h300/IMG_1684.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le pont-canal du cacor – very weird to be crossing a bridge with a canal in it<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard;">!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div></span><span style="font-family: arial;">Moissac is a lovely little town on one of the Chemins de Compostelle (or Camino de Santiago), with its impressive 7th-century abbey, which managed to survive attacks by both Moors from the south and Norsemen from the north over the years. We have a cozy Airbnb in the old part of town and went for a walk after supper (of course it started to rain). That afternoon, we noted quite a few pilgrims walking through the town and even ran into some Montrealers making the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. </span><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNeXDPQUW20COxXOSqCFzGlBlhHU0eoDiANwJor8zJK3L9uZ4iyVv8AETmHDQw67ItxddKi-5lOcOw2pNqaV7eOA8petyjUmAPi759UhfbxXo8-L9r9UCkzaJ9pnM4l-E4Te_7C_emOBKH_iqHGJLNNxmAoU34g9xWVFCEEV-OUms-NofGeQ/s4032/IMG_1689.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNeXDPQUW20COxXOSqCFzGlBlhHU0eoDiANwJor8zJK3L9uZ4iyVv8AETmHDQw67ItxddKi-5lOcOw2pNqaV7eOA8petyjUmAPi759UhfbxXo8-L9r9UCkzaJ9pnM4l-E4Te_7C_emOBKH_iqHGJLNNxmAoU34g9xWVFCEEV-OUms-NofGeQ/w300-h400/IMG_1689.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abbaye Saint-Pierre de Moissac</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Tomorrow, our destination is Agen. Another short étape</span><i style="font-family: arial;">, </i><span style="font-family: arial;">but we hope to get an early start and get into our accommodations a little earlier so we can relax a bit and explore the town. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><br /></div>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-29932401662872514812021-07-01T08:31:00.001-04:002021-07-01T08:31:54.198-04:00<p>My friend and excellent choral conductor <a href="https://johnwiens.com">John Wiens</a> has been writing an entertaining blog about the Montréal Canadiens called <i><a href="https://habspectator.com">Habs Spectator</a></i>, and he kindly asked me to contribute an entry for game 2 of the Stanley Cup Final series. Alas, the game was a little hard to watch, but it <i>was</i> fun to write about something other than cycling, music, or poetry. <a href="https://habspectator.com/2021/07/01/hope/">Give it a read</a>.</p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-50636628101841858422021-06-02T15:15:00.000-04:002021-06-02T15:15:08.790-04:00CycleTour2021 Wrap-up<p>After reading through my posts for this tour, a couple of things become clear. First, we <i>really</i> needed a vacation. After a stressful 14 months dealing with not only the pandemic, but also the stress and sadness of losing Sonia's parents, this tour was so necessary to remind and reassure us that we could rekindle the sense of adventure a bicycle tour brings.</p><p>But on a related note, it was simply too short. We were happy to have a day off after Day 8, but normally, our return home would have been only the midway point of a tour, and while it's always nice to come home, I think both of us would gladly have continued on indefinitely. And indeed, we are planning for an even longer-than-usual tour once the world opens up again. If Sonia and I have learned anything from our experience together, and from the last year in particular, it is that life is too short to "wait until retirement." </p><p>This morning, I read through my blog entries for the 2019 tour, and it is clear that the 2021 tour, while really lovely, just doesn't compare. Quebec is an astonishingly beautiful province, and even though it has one of the best bicycling networks in North America, exploring it by bicycle is much more challenging than Europe, and simply not as pleasant. For sure, one part of this is that we are from here, so it seems less exotic; but another but part is the infrastructure (both cycling and railway), the greater distances between towns, and the fewer accommodation options. On our European tours, we have been able to change plans on a whim, which, in my opinion, really adds to the "make your own adventure" feel of the trip. In Quebec, while we did not book anything in advance, we were more or less confined to a fixed route. I shouldn't blame it all on the province, though. Stronger, braver cyclists willing to stealth camp or endure more dubious lodgings would probably have the time of their lives. </p><p>But I also don't want to make it sound like we didn't enjoy the trip. We absolutely had an amazing time—by far the best of the three tours we have done in North America. Touring in the spring is the best. We started just as the leaves were coming in, many of the flowering trees were in full bloom, the sound of migrating songbirds was a constant soundtrack, the air was clean and fresh, and the sense of renewed optimism was palpable throughout the trip. The landscapes were truly breathtaking; we crossed what seemed like hundreds of bridges over waterways large and small; with a few exceptions, the bike paths we travelled on were extremely well maintained; we encountered some lovely people; we camped successfully for the first time in years; we challenged ourselves physically; and we returned home mentally refreshed, with nary a thought of work to disturb us.</p><p>A couple of highlights: the 75-kilometre stretch from Rivière-à-Pierre to Quebec City is exceedingly beautiful, especially the northern section. If you want to feel like you're in the middle of nowhere on a bike, this is a pretty good spot for it. And the 150-kilometre stretch between Quebec City and Richmond—with the exception of a few stretches where the bike path runs parallel to Route 116—is unfailingly lovely and at times, an absolute delight. I would do either sections again in a heartbeat. </p><p>Other observations: the camping was not an unmitigated success, but nor was it disastrous. I'm not sure we will want to go on a tour where this was the only sleeping option, but I could see us doing it again on a similar kind of trip. The gear (NEMO Aurora 2-person tent and NEMO lightweight inflatable sleeping pads) worked very well. But setting up camp after a long day of riding turned out to be a little more work than our middle-aged bodies prefer. One thing we did enjoy was having the Crux Lite camping stove available to make tea. I think that this will become part of our regular touring kit, even in Europe. The stove weighs almost nothing, and a single fuel canister (which are readily available everywhere), for the purposes of making tea at least, would probably last weeks.</p><p>And so we turn our attention to planning the next trip, which will take place in the spring of 2022 with any luck.</p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-82214967247293280812021-05-23T19:53:00.000-04:002021-05-23T19:53:29.767-04:00#CycleTour2021 Day 9: A familiar road home<p>After a relaxing day off on Saturday, we awoke this morning to drizzle and rain, which was forecast to end by mid-morning. So we had a lazy morning and packed our panniers one last time. The rain ultimately ended at around 10:30, and we were on the road by 11. </p><p>Today's route from Granby to Longueuil was one I know well, having ridden it numerous times over the years, and many times last year in particular. So I knew full well that it would be a long ride for Sonia, but I also felt confident that after her show of strength in the hills on Thursday and Friday, this relatively flat ride was eminently feasible for her, even with some forecast headwinds. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMTc6jP0HizYmjaLtvnlPoFG072wBYc2lS0xsizRib5yIGAasH8g4s4QyRPsX_ezG7sLf_pm_8JLP-lLLargikz5IOfEaKXG7h7DljEDZNAYuFWsTxpIeZojYk0WnsTBzXcI6/s2048/IMG_1336.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMTc6jP0HizYmjaLtvnlPoFG072wBYc2lS0xsizRib5yIGAasH8g4s4QyRPsX_ezG7sLf_pm_8JLP-lLLargikz5IOfEaKXG7h7DljEDZNAYuFWsTxpIeZojYk0WnsTBzXcI6/w640-h480/IMG_1336.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOtLRrABDhtdKJyTyab8eEG2DSO4myHWksqw5C7BOxvZ2WVKWzUymo9y4lHu3yi-cdEwclsmC_4vJPAPYdDBVeuEwQ8emDw5xZkWTgr3sAlRBS5WMCUSULN9PZH7wr7YaYWeFK/s2048/IMG_1337.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOtLRrABDhtdKJyTyab8eEG2DSO4myHWksqw5C7BOxvZ2WVKWzUymo9y4lHu3yi-cdEwclsmC_4vJPAPYdDBVeuEwQ8emDw5xZkWTgr3sAlRBS5WMCUSULN9PZH7wr7YaYWeFK/w640-h480/IMG_1337.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>Once again, Aeolus was smiling on us, and, aside from a few stretches where the path tacked closer to the wind, we mostly had at worst a fairly hefty crosswind and for long, glorious stretches, a slight tailwind. The weather was still cool and overcast when we made our first stop for lunch and final tea ceremony of the tour in Saint-Césaire. Then it was on again into the heart of Québec's Montérégie region, passing Rougemont on the right and Mont Saint-Grégoire on the left. By now, the clouds were beginning to clear, and as we passed through Marieville and Richelieu, the sun was shining in earnest. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFgL35S5DJ_wCRYB6NSziDRRP3JGB4B0U7Pyb-yfsAjAxuq7UVGQ6vOBejoZDcU6o_S6fSVmqothuavQm0gvhHAcCLBZPNTeJ5sn88CeQY9Lr5VrOhbARwpbJW7JU0L0j7sFqi/s2048/IMG_1340.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFgL35S5DJ_wCRYB6NSziDRRP3JGB4B0U7Pyb-yfsAjAxuq7UVGQ6vOBejoZDcU6o_S6fSVmqothuavQm0gvhHAcCLBZPNTeJ5sn88CeQY9Lr5VrOhbARwpbJW7JU0L0j7sFqi/w640-h480/IMG_1340.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEjsxSBU5D79nl3ZSLu0gKvyKWngpmQn97DKRyCbpPQCMx4RXb_xK8jYYSL41e-z9RwrzNBpIC9txK6H3PncMFqsZxPrO-IftpZbouqC693Ww7a4YUSUr-25reNpV_tZXb0yxs/s2048/IMG_1344.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEjsxSBU5D79nl3ZSLu0gKvyKWngpmQn97DKRyCbpPQCMx4RXb_xK8jYYSL41e-z9RwrzNBpIC9txK6H3PncMFqsZxPrO-IftpZbouqC693Ww7a4YUSUr-25reNpV_tZXb0yxs/w640-h480/IMG_1344.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>We took another good break at Fort de Chambly park, where the Richelieu River tumbles over the Chambly Rapids into Chambly Basin. I've seen it many times, but it's still an impressive sight. Despite the coolish and windy weather, the park was full of families and young people enjoying the spring weather, and the sense of collective optimism that this wretched pandemic might finally be coming to an end was palpable. </p><p>Over the course of the final 25 kilometres from Chambly to Longueuil, we played leapfrog with a group of six or eight 20-something cycle tourists, and it was a delight to see them and their enthusiasm. We finally rolled down our street around 4:30, clocking in at 75 kilometres—Sonia's longest ride ever, and my longest ever tour day. We are tired but happy to be home. I'll put my thoughts about the tour overall in a separate post in a few days, once I've had some time to digest it all, but I can say that this was a very good tour. Not quite as magical as our European tours, but by far the most enjoyable one we've done in North America. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw0gwP8FfDM0smOyKJgcWZ9MvXiu9CVomX6T9umyjeQ9PejeQWYDWmnh_tu7jpmAv2Jm_DhlLl7BRTxPoZEVf6a6OtGNKUe6izCOttoxmOh56YwR-72qSeKGruV480LqkOGbI3/s3088/IMG_1348.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw0gwP8FfDM0smOyKJgcWZ9MvXiu9CVomX6T9umyjeQ9PejeQWYDWmnh_tu7jpmAv2Jm_DhlLl7BRTxPoZEVf6a6OtGNKUe6izCOttoxmOh56YwR-72qSeKGruV480LqkOGbI3/w640-h480/IMG_1348.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-53559014825117269952021-05-21T19:37:00.001-04:002021-05-21T19:37:01.628-04:00#CycleTour2021 Day 8: Opposite day <p> While Day 7 started with an easy 20-km ride and ended with numerous challenging hills, today started with 20 kilometres of hills and ended with an easy downhill run from Waterloo to Granby. From the very first instance of planning for this tour, years ago, I knew this day would be challenging. The Route Verte here passes along the local bike route known as “La motagnarde,” which should give you some idea of the kind of relief we were facing. In particular, the Chemin de la diligence is an old coach road that cuts straight across the terrain like a Roman road, with no consideration whatsoever for making things easier for future cyclists. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwZ2h8YSghz5xaTW1PQktlI6EBKrk2zvg8lA3UXnLzau_SPHT_VheIwgGobv37BkhMtmCIfSg4HibIOw0shUjVSGsH0MjD_nRujnQPYJezTSdMmoGfdXC8puG9pRLDq1qHYiP/s2048/789AD844-ABC1-4C87-B7B9-64BE665C4904.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwZ2h8YSghz5xaTW1PQktlI6EBKrk2zvg8lA3UXnLzau_SPHT_VheIwgGobv37BkhMtmCIfSg4HibIOw0shUjVSGsH0MjD_nRujnQPYJezTSdMmoGfdXC8puG9pRLDq1qHYiP/w480-h640/789AD844-ABC1-4C87-B7B9-64BE665C4904.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2TlYF_8qLho3JU_1pHQMtDQrCYmQ0J4m7gp3G37l13t_aVU6nNKh1vj6NwsdhHiRfLOzaKd5h-E5FVQJcoyQ0u4QMAeszbp36jI6u9W5TrQdURzNkeB05UyqL_RTxaGZSB9W/s2048/34147CD1-35A7-45FD-BC48-2BF5ECD72E1C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2TlYF_8qLho3JU_1pHQMtDQrCYmQ0J4m7gp3G37l13t_aVU6nNKh1vj6NwsdhHiRfLOzaKd5h-E5FVQJcoyQ0u4QMAeszbp36jI6u9W5TrQdURzNkeB05UyqL_RTxaGZSB9W/w640-h480/34147CD1-35A7-45FD-BC48-2BF5ECD72E1C.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Last night, we slept quite well for almost 11 hours. And still, if legs had eyes, mine would be looking at me with an expression that conveyed, “you really want to do this again?” We had a few sprinkles in the night, the first precipitation we have seen on this trip, but the morning was bight and warm and showed no signs of becoming overcast, as the forecast had been predicting for days. We were on the road by 9:40 and the path from the Lac Stuckley campground up to the Route Verte was a truly sadistic way to start the day. The RV through the parc was no better, and I actually had to push my bike up one particularly diabolical grade. </p><p>Then it was downhill into the town of Eastman, which is is where the real fun started. We embarked on the Chemin de la diligence and soon realized that the next 13 kilometres was going to be a challenging hour. The road features three big climbs and an equal number of thrilling descents. I got Yul over 50 km/h for the first time, but that was too much even for me and I hit the brakes. But ultimately, we got to the top and were all smiles, knowing that our day was about to get a lot easier. </p><p>We rolled into Waterloo just before noon, and I stopped at Au p’tit poulet for some well-deserved fries, which went very well as an appetizer for our lunch. The rest of the day was spent zooming down the truly lovely bike path between Waterloo and Granby, the Estriade. Our digs for the night is the home of Sonia’s recently late parents in Granby. Tomorrow is a rest day, and, since the forecast for Sunday is looking like rain, we may not get home until Monday. My legs just gave me a look of gratitude.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZ8_JAU4fhhwUXuRMcltg0ZzZ-pKLtsIvxma7MsYAxMpT5sFBBp0UiOf_2GpKkUxHsgHpnH6FYiZPUpUqNQ3j4h_0WKY3qobIDIkKw8GyX6GFmrTL5AdaAQv3SaZKFs2-f9_Y/s2048/8851B5DF-B8C0-4FE3-88CF-86227F3A1D62.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZ8_JAU4fhhwUXuRMcltg0ZzZ-pKLtsIvxma7MsYAxMpT5sFBBp0UiOf_2GpKkUxHsgHpnH6FYiZPUpUqNQ3j4h_0WKY3qobIDIkKw8GyX6GFmrTL5AdaAQv3SaZKFs2-f9_Y/w640-h480/8851B5DF-B8C0-4FE3-88CF-86227F3A1D62.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJO3thYyagYWxb7xiIWQy3p9hqL570_VCaDwG9nj1V6OiHLnbpZ2toe_7ckjq12YNF-XWZbATvhlcJIXHqKiRJHY4RqRyII3Lv2DaQKGyIjzivvwG4BOzdYgrlte4aXElM1Z5G/s2048/EA34FEDC-E150-46CA-9C38-0004D2F9B1C3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJO3thYyagYWxb7xiIWQy3p9hqL570_VCaDwG9nj1V6OiHLnbpZ2toe_7ckjq12YNF-XWZbATvhlcJIXHqKiRJHY4RqRyII3Lv2DaQKGyIjzivvwG4BOzdYgrlte4aXElM1Z5G/w640-h480/EA34FEDC-E150-46CA-9C38-0004D2F9B1C3.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-75950434112514782462021-05-20T20:18:00.000-04:002021-05-20T20:18:15.246-04:00#CycleTour2021 Day 7: Hot ‘n Hilly<p> Today was a good day, despite it being much longer and even harder than yesterday. At least the ride went relatively smoothly, even if it did have its literal ups and downs. It was also the hottest day of the tour, </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtGg4qTmDXKzRd2txjM9fbrezS3gi1P3vwW2Knd82VLIhALrF4oIfar5gdLP6iEVchgo4HoQy-e98v95ve2dE3luljEIsw8jao-4UfUoHg9bUl7OfPeT6GvZH6lT4ZYmnZUIDj/s2048/9CCA9A3A-24AE-4B64-BFBA-91F12B138DF4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtGg4qTmDXKzRd2txjM9fbrezS3gi1P3vwW2Knd82VLIhALrF4oIfar5gdLP6iEVchgo4HoQy-e98v95ve2dE3luljEIsw8jao-4UfUoHg9bUl7OfPeT6GvZH6lT4ZYmnZUIDj/w640-h480/9CCA9A3A-24AE-4B64-BFBA-91F12B138DF4.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXFQ0FRK5cUUPf8Gjas202MI7CLRIhKioJLadnbFRSIwMRjmEJyE8f8ZYy1ijZo_SnVRH72Vs5d0p-Av8LPkv_Ih_2m2za98iy35kqWQYIH6wJ6psw95Y6GsN10Z0sCJxkW-JA/s2048/A67FAE5C-2F20-490B-8F7F-D3E05022FA71.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXFQ0FRK5cUUPf8Gjas202MI7CLRIhKioJLadnbFRSIwMRjmEJyE8f8ZYy1ijZo_SnVRH72Vs5d0p-Av8LPkv_Ih_2m2za98iy35kqWQYIH6wJ6psw95Y6GsN10Z0sCJxkW-JA/w640-h480/A67FAE5C-2F20-490B-8F7F-D3E05022FA71.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Knowing it would be a hot day, we got an early start and were rolling by 8:30. The first 20 kilometres of today’s ride was along the bike path that follows the lovely Rivière Massawippi from Lennoxville to North Hatley, a path we had taken a few years ago with my nephew Kyle. This part of the ride went by in a flash. We stopped in picturesque North Hatley for second breakfast and to rest a little, knowing that the easy part of the day was behind us, and it was only 10:30! We also know North Hatley well. Sonia’s late father, Jean-Guy, played saxophone for 60 years in the Harmonie de Granby, and they would often give summer concerts at North Hatley’s cute bandstand. Indeed, the last time we were in North Hatley, it was to come and hear Jean-Guy play.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hXvP7zRPcPRH880HRKpwlkos0Tkwc-yUbVxnbHg_aCAgqOLzvuXs3JnQOU5qA376BRUu3j33vqhiEd0A-zQqc7R0GfF3-9N2sp3qlaqzMNs6GhEVaA-eExjuG-nHAj9PEvj1/s2048/AD289EA1-C1C0-4985-A0FB-93E4B214AAA4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hXvP7zRPcPRH880HRKpwlkos0Tkwc-yUbVxnbHg_aCAgqOLzvuXs3JnQOU5qA376BRUu3j33vqhiEd0A-zQqc7R0GfF3-9N2sp3qlaqzMNs6GhEVaA-eExjuG-nHAj9PEvj1/w640-h480/AD289EA1-C1C0-4985-A0FB-93E4B214AAA4.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Then it was up and away, with emphasis on the up. The Route Verte follows the road out of North Hatley, and it is a famously steep grade. I had to stop halfway up to give my legs a rest, but ultimately, it was easier to pedal that to push the bike up. The Route Verte turns off the road after several hundred metres, but keeps climbing, albeit on quiet country roads. What goes up must come down, and there was a lovely long descent down the other side. Flying 40-km/h down a gravel country road on a loaded touring bike is not for the faint of heart, but I recommend it! This up-and-down theme continued all the way to Deauville, at the top of Lac Magog. (Confusingly, there is a town in Quebec called Magog too, and it also is at the top of a lake: Lac Memphrémagog). Deauville has a cute little public beach, and it seemed the perfect spot to stop for lunch and, in Sonia’s case, for a refreshing dip in the lake. We had lunch, performed our tour tea ceremony, and had a little lie-down in the shade before topping up the water bottles and heading out 90 minutes later. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgun1UKugElcdJN9rU_zf3HPm1fMFroGvaTiF_WfKU4G8nSvkfWCJxt8wYnyTfaLrGPHnJ8gRGji3O3ZR0kMsB3TDItgrTwKamttvWFFpUVSO3wVzmz3QE84RUFRKThPCl3ULDB/s2048/D2770FA0-527F-49FD-91E1-FF46D4556E62.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgun1UKugElcdJN9rU_zf3HPm1fMFroGvaTiF_WfKU4G8nSvkfWCJxt8wYnyTfaLrGPHnJ8gRGji3O3ZR0kMsB3TDItgrTwKamttvWFFpUVSO3wVzmz3QE84RUFRKThPCl3ULDB/w640-h480/D2770FA0-527F-49FD-91E1-FF46D4556E62.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Hi We followed the Route Verte through some lovely forest land toward Magog, still very much in up-and-down mode, but we left the RV early and skirted the northern end of the town to save quite a few kilometres off our day. Magog is a lovely town, but we’ve seen it many times. Our shortcut took us instead through the industrial part of town and along some fairly busy roads, but this was the only way this day was going to happen, and it all went smoothly, aside from a school bus driver who decided to give me a scare. </p><p>Our destination was Parc du Mont Orford, where there were still many available campsites on this Thursday before the May long weekend. We rolled up to the service centre and got a site booked and then were on our way again, with another 5 or 6 kilometres through the park to get to our site. A grand total of 70 kilometres and, more significantly, 745 metres climbed. Nothing special for the serious cyclist, but both touring records for us. </p><p>We found our site, dug into our panniers for whatever swim gear we had, and immediately walked down to Lac Stuckley for a swim. The water was bracing but a welcome refreshment on this hot day. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZP0ttfYvicnaogE_4sGOH4Hr6sHaH_JKdDhMyU5UzxZFQLRfclT4-OwflpQhwQz7Q75H98clbL_F2CU696bZqCwzOLdYaoDRn49OiInTFEGMJrT34d3mFE_qPEgSCFPrGrKjR/s2048/C657B2F8-2B86-4411-93D0-9B17B67D8DBD.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZP0ttfYvicnaogE_4sGOH4Hr6sHaH_JKdDhMyU5UzxZFQLRfclT4-OwflpQhwQz7Q75H98clbL_F2CU696bZqCwzOLdYaoDRn49OiInTFEGMJrT34d3mFE_qPEgSCFPrGrKjR/w640-h480/C657B2F8-2B86-4411-93D0-9B17B67D8DBD.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729048.post-3213220575555018562021-05-19T18:49:00.001-04:002021-05-20T19:25:37.798-04:00#CycleTour2021 Day 6: Voie barrée – détour (ou non)<p> Today ended up being slightly shorter than yesterday kilometre-wise, but it was oh-so-much harder, partly because it was hillier, but mostly because of a seemingly never ending series of detours, and because our route took us almost due south, between the lovely Rivière Saint-François and the noisy Autoroute 55. And gone also was the well-maintained bike path of the previous five days. Today, we were often on soft, ill-loved bike paths, tire-shredding gravel roads<span style="font-size: 15px;">—or worse! (Including several hike-a-bike sections). On the other hand, it was distinctly not an arrow-straight rail trail; we rarely rode more than 100 metres in any one direction or on any given incline. [Insert left-right-up-down arrow key emojis]</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15px;">But enough wingeing! It was a beautiful day, I was riding my bike with the love of my life, and I am sitting at a quiet picnic table beside the river with a beer beside me. Life could definitely be worse! We got a fairly late start this morning. Our first night in a tent was... OK. Earplugs saved the day (or, to be more accurate, the night), and we slept reasonably well, but I don’t think either of us would say we slept soundly. I am confident that tonight will be better. This campsite is on an island in the Rivière Saint-François, and even now, at rush hour, the traffic noise is not distracting. The 9:30 curfew will be in effect for another week, so I expect the evening to be much quieter. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15px;">How to describe the ride today? Frustrating, perhaps. The Route Verte, which is usually very well marked is... less so in this area, for some reason. Maybe because it’s such a mishmash of hyper-local trails, right-of-ways on private property, municipal bike paths, and whatever side streets and back roads can be used to link everything up. But easy to follow, it is not! Especially with all the various detours occasioned by springtime road repairs and the like. Frustrating also because this is SUCH beautiful country, and it it could be exceptionally beautiful riding, but it would appear that industrial and commercial interests hold sway here. A bike-path/route along the Rivière Saint-François seems like a no-brainer, but I don’t see any 3indication that it is in the cards.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></p>petergarnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15187878132592207269noreply@blogger.com1