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.