Saturday 08.09.2018

Neptune's Staircase - Oban

I shall not dwell on the disappointing start to this our last day except to mention an altercation with the manageress of this 'posh’ hotel. I rarely complain but a faulty radiator in our bathroom had set up a banging which in my exhausted sleep, I had not heard for some time. When I became aware of the noise, I got up, traced the source and turned off the offending towel rail. At the same time the phone rang to let me know that other guests were being disturbed. All resolved. In view of the prestige of the Moorings Hotel, I had expected some small compensation for a very disturbed night. Not so. When I gently suggested this might be an appropriate gesture, the manageress went for me like a Rottweiler and suggested that I should have woken earlier and solved her problem. I had not expected much but I had not expected such aggression. I apologized to the young receptionist for starting her day badly and left to load my bike. Such a shame!

Still, all that needed to be put aside and get on with the job of riding. This was a truly lovely ride. Nearly all of it was off road and very varied and always accompanied by the beauty of the Highlands. We had to make it to the Camusnagual ferry for 10o’clock in Fort William. What a funny little boat - the bikes were strapped to the roof and the panniers had to be loaded separately! Despite its small size, it was full of walkers and cyclists (full was only about a dozen bodies). Weather still holding and, after reloading the bikes in the sunshine, we set off along the lockside - really lovely. The second ferry from Corran was altogether different - much bigger with cars but free for bikes! This well designed route continued to please and at 80 kms we were feeling cautiously elated - nearly there. THEN the final ten kms rose in a series of ups and downs to over 300 feet which doesn’t sound much but the day’s total was over 3000ft. To say we were tired would be to underestimate substantially our actual fatigue. BUT we had made it back to our campsite and our van. Group hugs, fizzy and pasta led to instant deep sleep.

Friday 07.09.2018

Foyers - Neptune’s Staircase

I was feeling somewhat trepidious about the climb this morning although Al had assured me that it was only 1000 feet and not metres! What was really unnecessary was the gravelly downhill followed by a steep uphill just to reach the road. It was quite a demanding climb with lots of false summits with a number of pushy bits (if we feel like crying on a steep bit that is the signal for a push). This was part of the Great Glen way and downhill into Fort Augustus was quick! Last time we were here was when we took Ynys Hwyl through the canal to Inverness and it had been heaving with folk that time as well.

The climb had taken quite a time and as accommodation was becoming increasingly difficult to find. All that was available was a further 58 kms but beggars can't be choosers. Off to go along the canal path with views of the mountains that had been obscured on our last visit. This flatness could not last and it didn’t. Off went the path up through the forestry on a track sure to loosen all your fillings. After 60 kms of pedalling we returned to the canal path and, would you believe it, a nostril wind arrived just to ensure we didn’t become too comfortable.

We did arrive before dark and the bikes were allotted their own bar! We had a super room overlooking the lock. (More expense but, by pushing on, we had reduced our ride by one day and thus another bed)

We hope to be back in Oban by tomorrow. Legs and lungs are looking forward to a rest.

Thursday  06.09.2018

Nearly Inverness - Foyers

After settling extortionate bill, we set off for the town of Inverness. You may remember how much we love big towns! Inverness was no exception to our preconception - everyone in a rush to get to their destination and no apparent concern for anyone else on the roads. (I’m sure they care about bit…..) It was our good fortune that Mr. Navigator was on the ball and unerringly led us on to the appropriate road out of he city. I’m sure Inverness is a lovely city and loved by all its citizens but we were not sorry to leave it in our same.

For some good few kms, we trekked our way along 'cycle paths’ which was heavenly as some of these we entirely bereft of traffic and others had clearly defined cycle lanes and it is remarkable how tension decreases with lack of vehicles. Sadly though, as all good things must, it came to an end and we were back on rather shabby single track with accompanied by the inevitable stop/start. The loch shone in on our right and we caught glimpses of it through the trees, then just at the perfect moment, a picnic site hove into view and the sun came out. What more could a body want? It transpires that the midgies wanted our bodies. Not to be beaten by the little blighters, we encased our heads in black netting. That had them beat! And, no doubt frightened a few holiday makers.

Blue sky lasted until we had stowed our waterproofs - then the heavens’ opened again.

I had booked a room in an inn and explained to the person on the phone that we would be arriving on push bikes: he could have forewarned me about the 1 in 10 drive of mud and gravel. Lovely when we had huffed our way to the door and the views over loch Ness were stunning in the evening light - a mix of sunshine and very black storm clouds which, in due course, released an abundance of hail stones.

Over the last bit hill tomorrow and despite Al’s assurance that 'it won’t be too bad’ it still looks like a Pen y Fan to me! Heyho.

Monday 03.09.2018

Galson - Button of Lewis -Stornaway

This is another delightful B and B with magnificent views of the sea and coastline which was entirely obliterated yesterday on our arrival. (Absolutely soaked). After such a difficult day, we passed a jovial evening in the company of our fellow guests of whom there were four at the meal table. The fifth guest, Keith, another cyclist had eaten earlier. He made up for his absence of the evening, with his very entertaining banter at breakfast.

Much of our gear was either soggy or downright wet but in total contrast to yesterday, the weather was set very fair so we wore our soggies and wrapped wets in plastic bags.

The Butt of Lewis was devoid of any sustaining cafe but magnificent ,massive rocks, a seething blue sea and a couple of seals (see photos, but not of the seals, they were too elusive).Then it was heads down for Stornoway. We stopped for a brief chat with Keith who had left after us so he was heading north as we were now heading south. We do hope to see him again. The ride was reminiscent of Trefil moors only much more extensive, surrounded as we were by peat bog and following a single road heading eastward into the distance. Quite a lot of traffic and a single cafe at the fuel station where we supped coffee and were entertained by the chef who was really a surfer.

Stornoway was something of a shock - traffic jams, school buses, traffic lights and a multitude of folk. The ferry port was easy to find - where land meets sea. So far, so good. Now for accommodation! Al did his best but everywhere was full! Just as we had resigned ourselves to a night in the tent if we could find the campsite, we acquired the last room in the most expensive hotel in town. Good job really as Al’s cough didn’t need a damp night. An added advantage was that food was served in the bar and quite by chance, Keith turned up so we shared the evening. He was braving the campsite - good man. So a fine end to the day.

Tuesday 04.09.2018

This was to be a day of rest as we had the ferry to catch in the afternoon which would not get us to Ullapool until early evening. We thought a lie in and a leisurely morning suited the mood but our hotel room was really not conducive to lolling for any hour, never mind a morning. I consider that we are not over demanding regarding accommodation working on the premise that you get what you pay for. This was a false premise in the case of the Royal: the staff were delightful and the food was good but the room was shi………...Due to an absence of heating, the bathroom and the bedroom windows were running with condensation. Everything we had hung was very damp. Had we been residents of a hostel, the facilities would have been adequate but in the poshest hotel in Ullapool, I don’t think so.

Thus we were quite early for the ferry which allowed us time to swap stories with other bikers waiting for the same ferry. At least two couples had been bussed from Tarbert as the ferries for Uig were not running and so when they reached Ullapool, they had to undertake a second bus ride to Skye. The ferry company had provided the transport but the inconvenience was something else! As a result of the cancellations from Tarbert, our ferry to Ullapool was choc a bloc. Bikes were lifted over already packed cars and were finally squidged in. The poor lady in the car parked by the bikes was completely unable to open the drivers door to make her exit.

Imagine our delight when after a five minute pedal we arrived at our fantastic B and B. It could not have been more different from the previous night. It was called bijou and unlike many others claiming the description, it had everything and more - it even had a cafetier in the bedroom with proper coffee. It had been carefully and tastefully renovated and Terry and Shirley were warm and cheerful.

We hadn’t expected Ullapool to be a hive of activity but we could not have been more wrong. What was worse was that all these people expected to be fed by too few eating establishments. Thus, the waiting time for our table was an hour and a half! Tummy touching back time! He warned, if you visit Ullapool, book a table!

Wednesday 05.09.2018

Had a fabulous breakfast and a long chat with Terry about his motives for moving from the south of England to the north of Scotland. He was clearly delighted with his choice. We were unrushed this fine morning as we intended to allow the traffic from the incoming ferry, time to be on their way. The road is single file in each direction and so two side loaded bikes have the propensity to cause a bit of a following queue of impatient drivers. The hill onto the moors was long but quiet and the plateau wild and barren: devoid even of sheep. It was relatively traffic free until we got nearer to Inverness. Not a lot of fun for a few kilometres while we searched for our turning into something less busy. Finally, it appeared and with some relief, we left the big stuff.

It had been quite a tiring day but the fatigue had crept up on us and I managed an undignified fall, having misjudged the angle of a pile of gravel at the side of the road. A bit hurty! In our minds we were looking for the Ord pub - in fact what we found was Ord House Hotel. A real gentleman’s residence with a history going back three hundred years. The host who welcomed us may have been part of that history! This was shabby chic which had over the years, forgotten the chic. Not quite what we had planned but neither of us was going to pedal back along the mile long track to search for the pub!

Sunday 02. 09. 2018

Balallan - South Galson

I know we are essentially on a bike ride but it has to be said that we have experienced some interesting situations in our overnight accommodation. Two nights ago we found ourselves sharing our best on the planet B and B with another couple called Wilkinson (from Australia) so no relation and last night our host was from Newcastle and is in the process of trying to buy a property in the Limousin. Much discussion took place and although he insisted he didn’t want to hold us up, he just came up with more and more questions some of which we could answer and some we couldn’t. However, as it was blowing a gale outside, the delaying tactics were not unwelcome.

Isle of Lewis on a Sunday

How to describe today without sounding a tad negative? On the plus side, the very strong wind was, for the most part, at our backs or at least on the port beam. As for the day’s experience in general I would have to say it was not comfortable. The Scots would call it a dreak day, I cannot in fairness to any younger readers use the words that I would have used. Rain soaked us to the skin and obscured any glorious bits. As it is Sunday, nothing is open except the churches and they don’t score highly on the coffee for sale stakes. We re-acquainted ourselves with the “ bus shelter “! We have made good use of these in a number of countries and the Scots score quite highly………..kept the wind and rain at bay and offered a basic seat. Still, a cobbled together lunch is better than no lunch.

It seems that I was somewhat presumptuous in my description of the flatter topography of Lewis. It is clearly not flat, it's not that hilly but the term undulating is to underplay the effort required to reach the top of any undulation. But we just love an adventure and we are now in a small guest house, dry and warm and with a fair weather forecast tomorrow, we shall reach the end of the islands and return to Stornoway for the ferry to Ullapool.

Saturday 1. 09. 2018

We left probably the best B and B on the planet this morning. Everything was perfect and the breakfast was outstanding. Our grateful thanks to Shona of Taylor Hill B and B in Leverburgh.

The wind of yesterday had finally subsided to just a waft which was not quite strong enough to deter the midgies who took seconds to locate our body heat and munch away. Along with the dying wind, the sun had hidden behind fluffy clouds which were definitely no longer fluffy. They sat brooding over the hills descending almost to the road. So a bit of a gloomy start but a perfect day for hill climbing!

The start of the climb over the hills between Harris and Lewis was not a disappointment. We love walking! After about 1km of pushing, we remounted and slowly pedalled onward and upward. The mist evaporated slowly and the scenery that emerged was spectacular. It does take your mind off complaining muscles. In this vacant mindset you may imagine my surprise when a voice cried Old Bones still rule! Our three aquaintances from our first overnight stay had pulled into a lay-by to say hi! Thank goodness we were actually riding (it was a very steep bit of hill). We now feature in photos which will travel back to America. Fame at last.!

The true upside of climbing up is that there is a going down bit to be unreservedly enjoyed - and we did. We have now arrived in Lewis and the topography has changed and gentled out a bit.We have arrived in Balallan and tomorrow should see us almost at the end of this magical set of islands.

Tuesday 28.08.2018

We are on the move again. A second short trip leaving Oban tomorrow, by boat, for Castle Bay on the Outer Hebrides to cycle the aptly named Hebridean Way! An odd choice you may think - wet, windy and probably not all that warm - but a whole set of new experiences and views (if we can see the latter). If all goes to plan, we shall leave the Isle of Lewis for Ullapool, thence to Inverness and to complete the wobbly circle, ride the Caledonian Way to Fort William and then home to Oban …..

Sadly,  during our last trip this year, the tour de Manche, one of our staunch followers, Sue Trescott, died from a sudden and unexpected illness. She was our friend and her input and encouragement will be missed.

Actually getting to Oban to begin our adventure, was of itself, quite an adventure. A day to Caen and the overnight ferry and then what should have been a five hour journey to a site near Keswick! It will probably come as no surprise that we encountered continual traffic jams often with no apparent cause, so eight hours later we landed in Threthkeld. The frustration of endless vehicles was somewhat mitigated by a very splendid meal in the Horse and Farrier. The drive, the following day of three and a half hours, extended to sixish. We gave up counting and the will to live after the third encounter with endless roadworks. Sadly, no super meal at the end of this day, just motor home fare - pasta and something! Aren’t roads in Scotland north of Glasgow really narrow! Quite tense! Nine hours sleep restored normal service.

When we arrived, two days ago Oban was bathed in sunshine and full of T shirted visitors, not so today. Normal weather has returned and the T shirts are hidden underneath waterproofs. Bags are packed and ready to be loaded onto bikes for our voyage in the morning.

Wednesday 29.08.2018

Oban - Castle Bay

Super start - van safely stowed, bikes packed and off we go. 500 metres along the road we realise, simultaneously, that we have left the 12 v on in the van and the water pump. So back we go! Second start still super and this time we make it to the quayside in Oban. Propping up the railings, as one does when waiting for a ferry, we fell into conversation with another cyclist about to journey to the islands. An interesting chap who had been an engineer and swapped it for courier delivering by bike in Glasgow. He was riding around 60k each day and had well developed calf muscles to prove it. He was carrying about a tenth of our gear which consisted of not much - waterproofs, bivvi bag, sleeping bag and a pullover. Still, he had youth on his side and in view of his obvious prowess and light load, I think we shall not see him again.

The crossing was relatively tame except for the hour or so that we chose to find something to eat. Rolled around a bit but the eating was fortunately no problem. Calmed down as we neared Castle Bay and we disembarked up the inevitable hill.  It had been a crossing with stunning views and for the most part bathed in sunshine.

Our hostel was very near and adequate for our needs if a bit on the basic side. Settled into our room and hotfooted along to the local bar. (a real, old fashioned bar but not with old fashioned prices).

We have an early start in the morning so off for an early night.

Thursday. 30. 08.2018

Castle Bay - Eochar (South Uist)

Our very adequate hostel woke at around 05.30 so I dozed for another hour! Up early then and consequently away early after an appetising bowl of muesli and a cup of tea!

Yet another fabulous day. Sun shining, little wind and pretty, fluffy clouds spoilt only a little by them pesky midgies who dance and bite around your face. They do disappear as soon as you get on the bike and create a bit of wind. Our ferry was around 17 kms away and left, we thought, at 11.15. so we had plenty of time to admire the scenery and the sea in particular. We were so far ahead of ourselves, that we arrived at the ferry terminal (I use the term loosely: just a ramp) at 08.45 to discover the next ferry was leaving at 09.30! Not according to our timetable but who am I to argue with lots of chaps in high viz jackets and a large sea going vessel.

By 10.20, we had arrived in Eriskay and I was ready for a bacon buttie (muesli only goes so far). An hour or so later our eating fairy turned up a cafe serving lots of butties. So Al had bacon and I had black pudding. Thus revitalised and with the sun still warm, I finally divested one layer of clothing - still not T shirts.

We have seen this island in all its glory today and it is hard to over emphasize the beauty of the lakes and the mountains. If we only get this one day, it will have been worth the visit. We have been able to watch the wildlife and the seashore with the only sad views being the many deserted crofts which have been abandoned. They are crumbling into ruin with vacant doorways and windows and two chimneys like fingers pointing skywards. To compensate there is restoration and new building if a little sparse. It has been a thoroughly enjoyable ride and we live in hope of the continuation of this weather.

After a night/morning of sharing clean but scant facilities, Al has found a B and B (well a pod actually with all facilities just for us)  and an evening meal thrown in. Cost to follow! As I write, I am looking out of the door onto a small loch with hills in the background and the sun still shines - magic!

(P.S. - The ferry timetable did state a crossing at 0930. We had simply overlooked it as being impossibly early! My apologies to the Caledonian MacBrayne ferries!)

Friday  31.08.2018

South Uist - South Harris

I described yesterday as glorious. Today has been challenging with bits of glorious. The glorious bits have been being privileged to delight in the exquisite colours of the beaches. I just hope the photos when they are blogged will present an accurate picture.

However, the dominant feature of the day, has been the wind; and I mean wind! It was blowing some when we woke but as it was likely to be a whizzy wind we were relatively unconcerned and, indeed, for a few hours we bowled along nicely. Our buttie fairy presented us with an excellent buttie stop which topped up nicely our breakfast of the inevitable muesli. (Oh, I have forgotten to mention our superb three course evening meal served up by our host of the pod. Salmon pate, beef bourgingnon, chocolate torte and a bottle of wine for good measure.) (Angler’s Retreat _ highly recommended)

Where was I? Oh yes - the wind! We had to change direction and the wind did not! A cross wind of some 30 - 40 miles an hour was very hard work. One gust unseated me and unceremoniously dumped me, unhurt, into the ditch which was thankfully dry. Blissfully unaware of my injured pride, Al checked my status and sensibly advised me to stick to the middle of the road and allow for wobble room. Thus , we proceeded, very slowly in my case, to the top of just one of several hills. (Not even hills really). Unfortunately, in these conditions we had to direct most of our attention to staying upright so sightseeing took a second place.

Our intention out the outset of the day, had been to get to, and take, the ferry to Harris. And we did! As with ferry times yesterday, there was an element of uncertainty as to when the next boat was due - the sign said 17. 35 and the timetable said 16.00. While we were deliberating which was the most likely, a very large group of very large chaps in full lycra made a noisy arrival and the discussion turned to their ride (much longer than ours) but what was so gratifying was their difficulty with the cross winds. We felt so much better as these young things were carrying no gear and were on super bikes! Old Bones doing okay so far!

It seems that our lads had commandeered all the accommodation in the bunkhouse, so we opted for a B and B with all modern cons and a lovely hostess who has just plied us with coffee and cakes.

Lots of hills tomorrow so maybe not so many kilometres.

Sunday  27. 05. 2018

Plougasnou - Roscoff

Well - hoorah and hooray, we have made it to Roscoff. We had hoped to make Morlaix last night but it was not to be. It turned out to be a good decision and not only for reasons of fatigue. Today, the weather has cleared, returning to sunshine and the views from our route have been superb. We continue to plunge onto beaches, but are rewarded with stretches of golden sands and/or blue seas punctuated with small islands. Yesterday’s fog would have obscured all the wonder.

When we left Lannion on Friday, the route signs for Morlaix read - 42 kms (a bit of a surprise as I had calculated a distance of nearer 80kms). After 27kms of cycling, the signs for Morlaix said 45kms! Mmm….. Wonder who thought that one up. Clearly not a mathematician.

Last night’s accommodation, although very welcome after our drenching, was truly stuck in a sixties time warp - all browns, beige, oranges and net curtains. Madame hailed from around the same era but kindly dried all our sopping gear.

The route designers couldn’t resist just a couple more massive hills just before Roscoff!  The town is very picturesque, if very commercialised and busy with folk wandering the streets and wharfs. However, the best accommodation get - Hotel la Residence des artistes - one Street away from the front. Highly recommended it you should find yourself in Roscoff.

So, we are nearly done and we wish good luck to all the couples we have met who are just commencing their adventure with some trepidation.

Monday/ Tuesday  28/29 05. 2018.

Arrived in good time for the ferry as we were less than 15 minutes away! Plenty of time for a coffee break. On our outbound crossing there were only three of us on push bikes; not so for the return. Initially, we spotted just one other couple with a trailer which actually had a baby inside! In order to keep the little one quiet the father was riding in a continuous circle while we chatted with mum. Our conversation revealed that they were on a three day break with a four month old daughter. They were resident in Falmouth although dad was from Poland and mum was from Greece. Both highly qualified, they had found rewarding work in the university but felt it was important to continue to expand their horizons - hence their visits to other countries. As we were not due to dock until 20.15 they still had to find a train home we could only stand in awe of their courage and determination. Truly inspiring.

Otherwise, the crossing was tranquil until it came time to disembark. After we had left our bikes to the tender mercies of the crew, some thirty other bikes had boarded and been stacked three deep. Hence ours were at the bottom of the heap. After a bit of a bun fight, owners were reconciled with their vehicles and a mass exodus ensued - most only going as far as the car park to load cars and return home. We pedalled frantically and cleared the dock area without mishap and after Mr. Navigator had performed his magic, we were being welcomed into our b and b.

Just the run up to Tavistock and the van. And so, the following morning we set off. Knowing that Tavistock was considerably higher geologically, than Plymouth, I had in mind another epic of steep climbs. Not so. Much of the run, after leaving Plymouth in our wake, was along green lane and much of it following the path of an old railway and thus, climbed at a steady and very acceptable gradient. It crossed moorland and dipped into forest and was altogether very attractive and clearly, much used by cyclists of all ages and abilities. It was only when we reached Tavistock itself that the climbs returned but, by then, we were like ponies on their return from a hack. - increasing speed with the anticipation of a pleasant return to food and comfort.

The camper was still where we had left it. So our journey ends without injury or serious mishap. Instead, have accrued memories and experiences which continue to stimulate our existence. This blog is, essentially, a personal record but if it has afforded pleasure to a few readers, I am content. Until the next venture………….

General comments:

1: There is a great difference between the route in the UK and that in France:- on the French side, every effort has been made to enable the cyclists to ride on traffic free roads and tracks. The latter can sometimes be a challenge and the terrain is certainly undulating. The signing is excellent if in need of a little gardening (requiring the odd bit of foraging in the hedges). What road use is necessary is on quiet roads or those with a substantial cycle lane.

The same cannot be said of the UK side (probably due to the general shortage of roads and a greater number of road users). Roads were often single track with traffic flowing in both directions and room for only a single vehicle, certainly not for bikes as well. Many drivers are patient and courteous but, sadly, some are not and it only takes one to ruin your day. Signing is intermittent and often non existent.

2: We felt that the promotion for this route - Tour de Manche - was misleading. It had been advertised as a family friendly route showing, apparently, carefree cyclists riding beside a beautiful coastline. While this may be true of very small sections, the route as a whole is decidedly unsuitable for small children and physically much more challenging than indicated, particularly when carrying a heavy load.

3: We made the decision to dump our camping gear, taking only  basic survival equipment. It is clear that there is little problem in finding accommodation if one is prepared for the occasional extra mileage and the added expense! In general, our bikes and equipment were first class - the bike stands were really useful and the Rohloff gears were unaffected by the sand and dust and allowed for easy changing.

4: On your bicycle is unquestionably the best way to take in the awe-inspiring coast of Brittany.

Friday 25.05.2018

Treguier - Lannion

Going down our turret stairs was almost as hairy as the ascent, laden as we were with large bags. These mediaeval folk must have been on the thin side with commendable fitness levels. .

Today has been a beautiful day following the coast and continuing to dive down to sandy bays and sheltered harbours. I now have a question for any geologists who may be following this blog. Lying in amongst the beaches and the adjoining countryside and randomly strewn around were these huge rounded blocks of very smooth pink granite. How they came to be stranded thus, we could not fathom. Any suggestions would be much appreciated. So impressed were we with this section of the ride that it is likely we will return but maybe with the camper!

It is an oddity with this coast that some of the towns/villages in the bays are very well loved and others need a real sort out. One that was less than beautiful, was Trebeurden where we thought we might overnight. However, a surly landlord said his establishment was full and that was sufficient to spur us on to Lannion with some trepidation. (We are still doing lots of ups and downs and it was another 20 kms). When we reached Lannion it was HUGE. The signs for our route were abundant and without them, I suspect we might still be circling the city. Eventually, after a tour of the many backstreets, we arrived in what seemed to be the city centre, judging by the number of cars, motorbikes and one way systems. Quite tired now and a bit overwhelmed, we asked of a passerby by where we might find the Ibis hotel - we were almost next to it! Dooh! We didn’t stay there but it was opposite to a much cheaper option. We discovered why when we were assured that our bikes would fit in the lift - no: that we could carry them down a flight of steps - no. As a last resort to getting them down to the garage, we unloaded completely, left the panniers in the hallway, upended the bikes into the lift! Mission accomplished!

It was now quite late so we took advantage of the offer of a ready meal from reception. This arrived in a kilner jar to be heated i e microwave of our tiny kitchen. Assuaged the hunger though. Just need a good night’s kip.

Saturday  26.05.2018

Lannion - Plougasnou

Thankfully, this morning when we went to check on the bikes, and after a short exploration of the underground car park, we found a much easier exit system than the previous evening’s fiasco. Took command of a lift and ferried all the baggage to the garage.

Sadly, it is not the weather we have become accustomed to - it being very foggy and not warm. The forecast is a mixture of clear skies by eleven and/or thunderstorms throughout France. Ever optimistic, we opted to believe the clearing up one. Silly billys - without any warning at all not even a murmer of thunder, the heavens chucked a downpour onto our unsuspecting bodies. In the seconds that it took to don wet weather gear, we were soaked, the roads were running with water and we found ourselves paddling in the gutter as we pushed sodden bikes up the steepest hill of the day! Thankfully, this all occurred nearing the end of our day.

Hitherto, it had been misty and views from the cliffs were obscured,but we nonetheless, saw enough of the coast to be impressed. At a particularly pretty inlet at Locquirec, we met up with a group of guys from Cornwall who had come over to Brittany for the bank holiday and to ride the area. We exchanged comments on bicycles and for a short while we were envious of the fact that they were on lightweight road bikes with no luggage - but only momentarily. Do I lie? Nooo. It was, however, generally agreed that Sustrans found the longest and hilliest route between any two points. Today, I have to point out that they also find paths, which at high water, would be impossible to wade through. Fortunately. our passage coincided with low water!

Now that Roscoff is so close, we had been contemplating where to stop. The thunder storm made the decision for us. So two very soggy cyclists arrived in Plougasnou and found a bed and a meal for this night.

In a world full of selfish people

I know who I'd rather be with

"The Uninvited"

Wednesday 23. 05.2018

Erquy - Binic

Our departure was straight uphill and I smiled all the way up giving cheery waves to all the courteous drivers. The courteous bit is a little generous but it was the start of another day of sunshine and cycling. Once out of town, the coastline was simply stunning - sweeping bays, rocky outcrops and the bluest of seas. Yes, the sun was still shining. At the bottom of today’s downs, and before the ups, we found marinas full of boats and not much water, it being low tide.

We apparently crossed two viaducts. during the day; the first of which had been entirely resurfaced and given over for the exclusive use of walkers and riders. Very spectacular. The same cannot be said for the second as I didn’t notice it at all. Al was most impressed and waxed lyrical on its height and spectacular views - all of which I had missed occupied, as I was, with an irritating Spaniel which was determined to either unseat me or race me!

Another interesting and exhausting day, which concluded in a bar/hotel in Binic. Our host was a man of very few words in any language so it came as no real surprise that his nearby garage for the bikes was actually a goodly hike of 500metres - but the most secure parking we have ever had. They were finally left inside a garage behind a locked up and over door, an electric entrance door and an electrically operated external gate! Beat that! All this achieved with a few grunts. This taciturnity applied to all his associates and so we took no offence.

Thursday 24.05 2018

Binic - Treguier

Mr. Cheery might have been very cheerless, but the food was excellent and we enjoyed a substantial breakfast once he had collected the bread from the boulangerie over the way. Certainly fresh!

The sun has disappeared today and the sea mist has obscured much of the outstanding loveliness of the area. But it is dry. It has been a bit difficult to dress appropriately cos one minute one is stifling in several layers climbing the ups and then shivering on the downs. Just like the Tour de France! Not. Mr. Master Navigator made a welcome appearance today after negotiating many ups, he located a couple of points where both the downs and ups could be eliminated and replaced with a nearly flat. It did feel a bit like cheating but we have made a lot of demands on lungs and legs. I think we were not the only ones. We have passed a very few people going in the opposite direction as loaded with panniers as we are. With one exception, they have been couples of advancing years whose mood has depended largely on the gradient of the local road. Uphill, a grimace; downhill, a wave and occasionally a short conversation. Quite encouraging to know that we are not the only mad bastards.

View from our 6th floor bedroom!!

The run into Treguier was without event. (And not very hilly until we came to locating our bar for the night). Being positioned, as it is, next to the cathedral, it occupies a high point! The cathedral is magnificent and our little attic room is at the top of a spiral staircase which was built at around the same time. Very steep and narrow.

We are closing in on Roscoff and I don’t know whether to be pleased or sorry. Doubtless, we shall find out sooner or later.

Monday 21.05. 2018

Roche Torin - Tremereux

The passage through St. Malo was every bit of awful as we thought and more. Those details will have to wait because first I have to tell you that our hotel wanted 17 Euros for breakfast! Taking the proverbial or what? One can enjoy a three course lunch for less and having spyed on what was available, it was nothing out of the ordinary. So we forewent breakfast deciding to collect croissants on the way (less than two Euros!)

Famous but best avoided

Our route this very early morning took us on an unnecessary tour of local villages which had nothing to offer, not even a boulangerie. Nine kilometres of wasted pedal power. We did, however, see the sea and this has been a very rare occurrence indeed. We shared this view with tens of motor homes all seeking a free holiday.

Bearing in mind St Malo is a good sized town, our route meandered all over the place finally losing us in the middle of nowhere. Might have been better had we stayed lost: St. Malo was a nightmare! Thousands of people had descended down to the harbour to make the most of the fine weather, the seaside and the holiday. Now, we are used to pushing our bikes up hills but pushing on the flat really went against the grain. But push, we did in order to save the general public from a battering from an overweight bicycle!

We thought we were doing pretty well to reach the other side of the town but more trauma was in store. We knew we had to cross a barrage called Rance - we saw it and took the slip road and oh my, the traffic was hurtling passed. The barrage had no cycle lane, only a narrow pedestrian walkway accessed by steps. With Hurculean effort we heaved the bikes behind the barrier and walked across. If we thought we had succeeded in a successful traverse, we were wrong! The bridge was up and so traffic was held behind the barrier for some fifteen minutes so there was a lot of it! The bridge came down, the motor bikes revved up and the pent up drivers roared ahead. We had to walk this road for some three hundred metres (worse than the A 35). Terrifying doesn’t adequately describe the ordeal.

But we survived so that we could get a little bit lost in Dinard.

After over ninety kilometres, we arrived at our B and B, greeted by several exuberant dogs and their human companions, and offered a beer. We managed to get to our room just before we keeled over. Just enough energy to consume a pizza before teeth cleaning and bed.

Quite a day!

Tuesday 22. 05. 2018

Tremereux - Erquy

After yesterday, anything was likely to be an anti climax but a very welcome one. Our host hovered while we are our breakfast (in case we walked off with it?) and determinedly made conversation in French which is fair enough but was a bit of a brain stretch for first thing in the morning.

We covered lots more meandering on very quiet roads. The route planners have certainly chosen roads and byways with little or no traffic which is relaxing. The price paid is lots of hilly bits and some pretty challenging terrain. We have done a lot of trekking along rough paths which would have been possibly too demanding for our other bikes. Thanks to the dry weather the surfaces are bumpy but generally hard; after heavy rain the going would be a good deal soggier and heavy going. Our bikes have withstood all the bumps, stones, gravel, tree roots and sand without disgorging us into the ground.

We really have seen the sea today and are actually by the sea for our overnight accommodation. A less strenuous and nerve racking day all round. Still fabulous weather!

No idea what tomorrow holds so watch this space.

Friday 18.05.2018

Carentan - Tessy sir Vire

The day started with an interruption to our breakfast by a couple who wanted to pick our brains - their mistake! They had hoped that we might be able to help them locate a good cycle route but as they were heading for Paris, we could offer little except encouragement.  They had undertaken a charity ride from Dublin to Paris with even less preparation than we had made. She was Irish and he was French;- she had done little biking and he had done quite a lot! He had a 'cargo’ bike which had a massive bath like carrier on the front (very heavy) and unusual. We had only ever seen them in Sweden with small children in the basket. Hers was a good ordinary touring bike with a couple of small panniers. We had to leave them to the mercies of Google maps!

Our day was grand. If yesterday was very green, today was very watery. Carentan is in the middle of the Marais (marshes) and we continued to follow a voie verte - pretty flat, alongside the river, with a whizzy wind and lots of sunshine - a good day to be alive!

We had a small hiccup in the town of Carentan where the hitherto marvelous signing, disappeared. Spotting another couple having similar problems we added two more brains? and in a trice, we were all on our way.

Flowers on the roof

By mid afternoon, we reached Tessy sir Lire where we planned to overnight. Betwixt Garmin and Al’s phone, we managed a great confusion! Ultimately, a phone call ascertained that we could have a bed  for the night in a 'posh’ B & B as long as we could wait for our hosts to return from a shopping trip! With little/no alternative, we agreed to wait. It was VERY posh with extraordinary attention to detail. We had a door into the garden, an enormous bathroom, a stunning lounge area and a first class meal. None of which came cheap so we decided to mitigate the expense by making it the celebration of our ruby wedding anniversary. As we spent so much time admiring our surroundings and making all the right noises, there remained no time for the blog. Being polite and interested is very tiring!

Saturday  19.05.2018

Tessy sir Vire - Soudeval

The nice flat voie verte of yesterday lasted a very short time! We waved to our friends from yesterday, Mo and John, as they were putting the final touches to their decamping. Pretty soon, the inevitable hills reared up and pushing became inevitable as well. On summiting the fourth   such incline, we collapsed onto a picnic bench to speak nicely to various body parts and take a cup off coffee. A short while later, we were, once again, joined by Mo and John looking equally puffed. At this point Mo apologised for having kept us in ignorance of the 'mountain chain’ she knew we must cross as her research had said so. Our research was non existent but hills are all part of the fun!

We had been following signs for the site de viaduct Soulevre, about which we knew nothing except what a viaduct actually was - a bridge spanning a deep valley. It transpires that, sadly, this viaduct extended only about 100 metres and stopped which meant (yes, you guessed it), we had to plunge the depths and then haul up the other side. However, the passerelle which hung over the valley was being used for bunjy jumping. We stopped at the bottom to listen to the terrified shrieks of the jumpers as they yo - yoed up and down. Didn’t really look much like fun to me. In addition to the jumping were many other, less scary, activities - zip wide, toboggan run and high and low ropes courses which we admired while pushing our cycles up another hill. I’m not moaning, it was a very nice hill!

We reached the town of Vire around three thirty - not a specially nice town and one where we would almost certainly get lost. So, we made a phone call and a decision to carry on to Soudeval and Murphy’s chambre d’hote. “Only 20 more kms and mostly downhill on another voie verte”’ he said. Twenty eight kms, twenty of which were uphill! Nonetheless, we were welcomed by Sean and Schnitzel (the dog). Although, we hadn’t expected it, Sean rustled up the best sausage and cheesy mash I have tasted in a long time and washed it all down with can couple of glasses of wine. Now , it was passed bedtime, so still no blog! Sleep instead. (I forgot to mention, that even with the hill we exceeded 70kms for the first time this trip)

Sunday 20.05.2018

Soudeval -. Mont St. Michel

By contrast with yesterday, it will be a challenge to keep you entertained with today’s exploits. Nearly a full day on an old railway line in perfect weather with a following wind, is super cycling but, generally, uneventful.

We shared our breakfast with the other guests a family of three from Paris. Unbeknown to us, they had commenced their meal by saying grace, so we were grateful to have been spared that experience by arriving late at the table. Sean,our host, absented himself to feed the chickens (yeah) so our meal progressed in a mix of French and English.

We were en route by nineish after bidding farewell to the chickens and horses and determined to reach Mont St. Michel with enough time to relax and catch up with washing, planning and blog writing.

Tomorrow will see us fighting our way through St. Malo on a French bank holiday! Bon courage I say.