#148 | Winchester, UK, to Decize, France

Cycling east, towards China.

Tuesday 22nd August

Slept on the ferry, a cross between a retirement home and Wes Anderson film. Why has no one made a film about crossing the English Sleeve? — Perhaps they have. Plot: Murder on the Brittany Ferry, where Hercule Poirot, on a return trip from France after Christmas with his British in-laws, murders his wife for being forgetful. 

I met Johanus at the ferry terminal as we boarded in Portsmouth. He was completing a wet 3,500 km cycling tour of Europe. Johanus told me my ferry was due for Caen, not Le Harvre. This news incinerated all my plans (admittedly there were few). I slept three hours in the cinema room on a half-recline chair and had full English alongside the British tourists. I’ve made the most of English food after a fish and chips last night, and 2,000 calories of pork, eggs and beans this morning. 

Today started at 6 a.m. and followed the estuary south into Reville. As it turns out, this little village, while nondescript, was the first French village to be liberated by the Allies. On June 6th 1944, the British parachute regiment landed, secured it, and paved the way for D-Day. Two thousand two hundred men were memorialised in the cemetery. I stopped and cried. The boys’ names were instantly familiar and could’ve been boys of our generation - Henderson, Heywood, Butler. We were a fortunate generation not to be caught up in world war.

I’ve been taking the day slowly. My big concern is getting injured with Achilles tendinitis or something equally debilitating. I’ve done no training. And so, being gentle, I stopped off for a coffee. A café au lait, s’il vous plaît? I asked. Sure, would you like to pay with a card or cash, mate? Said the waiter in a thick French accent.

Later. Beautiful flat lanes past stables and stables. Horses playing in the fields. The odd Château. I stopped in a town for boulangerie, but it was closed, so I went to the supermarket and made the tragic error of buying comfort food. Lays crisps, peanuts, hard bread, and Nutella: lunch, and I immediately felt sick. Must remember that, although I’m exercising, my body needs quality food, not junk. I have had to stop in a town, 7 km further, along for a jambon and Emmental baguette, which is delicious and removes the nausea.

Wednesday 23rd

Thiron-Gardais. Just set up a tent next to a stunning, shallow lake that spans 350 m into the distance. It’s a no-kill lake; fish are caught and returned, so the carp get big here. It’s also a no-swim lake, and the proprietor eyes me suspiciously when I ask her. 

Lovely day cycling following a long cycle route, presumably a disused railway; long, straight, tree-covered. The path spat me out in the middle of a national park. Got sunburnt yesterday. Pain worsens when I look in the mirror and see how red it is. Given it’s on my back, the burn is impossible for me to aftersun without dislocating my shoulders, and I feel it would be too much of an ask of a stranger. 

Nutrition is much better today: steak and chips for lunch and, soon, again for dinner. There is nothing else to eat but steak and chips. Being August, it’s holiday season and France is closed. Today I didn’t cycle past one cute French café where I could’ve stopped for a coffee. Fortunately, I picked up four croissants in the first boulangerie, keeping me going. 

Felt strong, cycling 700 m ascent over about 110 km. Time for supper, getting off my phone — it’s addictive and always in my face when cycling. 

Thursday 24th

I left the lake this morning at 8:30 and waved goodbye to Margot. Was she hitting on me? I guess I’ll never know. Her English and my French were hardly good enough to ask more than how each other’s cycles were. Try explaining Yokeru in French — c’est impossible!

Extremely flat day as I entered the Loire Valley. It’s just started raining, the first shower of the trip, but I think it will blow over. I’m heading to Orleans, about 60 km of cornfields away. The corn, which is head-hight, is diced and sliced by tarmac roads, which I ride along under a big sky. I can’t see hills in any direction.

Considering how many more hours I have in the saddle. Perhaps 2,000. Shall I learn to meditate? Is it possible to meditate on a bike?

Later. I am not meditating, just thinking about if the rain will stop. Big skies can rain big. Now sheltered under a bus stop named Rue de la Mairie. Phone soaked.

I am deciding whether I should put my waterproofs on. If I wear them, I get very hot; if I don’t, I get very wet. Under this shelter, the rain sounds much worse than it is, but as I look to the horizon, there’s no end to it. I’ve been cycling towards a flock of wind turbines all day, each blinking a white light. Heavy lightning in the direction I’m going in. I hope the storm is outpacing me — surely it will. I’ll put my lights on, given that it’s so damn dark; it’s only 12.49 p.m.

Still later. La Capitainerie Hôtel, Château de Châteauneuf-sur-Loire. One can only be in France for about four days before getting caught up in a protest. I just enjoyed my first. I was wearing a high viz yellow vest because of the rain, and so was one of them. Fittingly, the protesters were all bike tourists and had cycled through France to demonstrate outside the municipality office in Orleans.

Met Elenor, who told me it was either against the building of a vast reservoir, or in the protection of a reservoir. I asked for clarification, but I still don’t know. She said we were all eco-terrorists. A surprise to me! There were hundreds of police around the thousands of protesters. When we pulled outside the municipality office, and put down our kick-stands, the police encircled us; the demonstrators covered their faces. Some of the demonstrators had two-year-old children with them. I thought this was not my fight to fight and cycled off.

I’m tired but happy with 140 km today. My God, it rained. A good test of my panniers — they are not entirely waterproof, so (yay!) will hide from the rain from now on. I am writing from my hotel room which I booked during the storm’s peak. I need not have booked because the weather is divine, but this town — Châteauneuf-sur-Loire — is stunning. It lies to one side of the Loire River, looking east, and is very romantic.

Friday 25th

Châteauneuf-sur-Loire. Just spent the morning walking around the Château Gardens, which were built as early as the 1200s but have been destroyed and rebuilt numerous times. They are described as a mini Versailles. I am planning to cycle 100 km today, but we will see how we do following the Loire upstream towards Lyon.

Later. Endless peace along canals filled with lily pads. Magical. I am just getting to bed — I’ve not eaten enough, though Charlie kindly cooked a veggie stew. Eddie and he took me in. Sunburn better. It was a wonderful flat ride, one downpour, and did an extra 16 km loop for no reason. “I recognise that cemetery,” I thought, “perhaps I’ve been here in another life”. Oh no! I had been here an hour earlier.

111 km in total — again, a good day. Legs are a bit tired. 

Saturday 26th

Decize. Writing from Bar De L’Hotel De Ville. It sells enough cigarettes to support a small city, top-shelf pornography on the middle shelf, and croque monsieurs. It’s mid-afternoon, and the crowd is exactly what you’d expect to be in a back-of-town French cafe. Full ashtrays, the horse racing is on TV. It’s the first place I’ve found an alcohol-free beer, however. “Bier sans alcohol, s’il vous plait?” usually gets the response, “but... beer is alcohol hahaha!!” - in perfect English.

Left Charlie and Eddie’s camping spot at 8.30 a.m. They were eating cold porridge because their stove had broken. Today, more crisscrossing the Loire, and cutting up cornfields and pursuing canals. I’ll be begging for these long flats in a few days time. Perfect cycling conditions: No rain, not too much sun, steak and chips for lunch in pretty Nevers. It was market day, so I picked up some cheese and sausage, and I’ll grab a baguette now before heading to a wild camping spot to hide out.

Enjoying this new email format: It’s fun to write during the week and even more fun to top and tail, as I am doing now, before sending it out. So many little memories would slip by! I’ll try and keep to a weekly cadence where signal allows. Currently reading The Cosmic Game by Stan Groff, but I'll share more about it next week. As always, please keep sending me your book recommendations. I love receiving them, and then reading them. Also, Wandering Lex has released a new song — it’s awesome, listen to Today We Live here.

Live well,

Hector