All Change

Thursday 31.05.2012.   Basle – Waldshut  72.9 kms

Well, no thunder storm transpired and we got off to another good start, in terms of time. The same cannot be said for the ease of navigation. Quite soon, we were dislocated and Mr. Master Navigator was really put through his paces. More by luck than design, we found ourselves following the German bank of the Rhine, but where we have been used to gentle asphalt paths, we now found ourselves presented with a much more diverse challenge. Before lunch, we had negotiated terrain very alien to this trip. We have been up…down, up……down, we have pedalled along tarmac, gravel and cobblestones!(yup back in Germany). We have ridden over bumps, lost our wheels in potholes and had to climb more hills than we have seen in three weeks. Mmm…………….bit of a wake-up call. But we have risen to the challenge although I have to admit the poor old elephant is looking a bit dog-eared. After 70 plus kms, we were a tad weary, and just at that moment there appeared a hostel, a campsite and a restaurant. Wow, who could ask for more. We have opted for a room indoors and as it is now pi……ing down it would seem to have been a good choice; we have eaten and I have just about run out of every last drop of energy writing up this blog. So, I bid you all good night and we await the morrow as ever. 

Organs for Breakfast

Wed 30.05 2012        Dannemarie – Basle  64.4kms

This morning has to be the highlight of our journey so far. We descended the stairs for our breakfast to the sound of music! Monsieur was playing a very up to the minute organ and very well too. For us though, it was the first time we had ever been serenaded at breakfast. Lots to eat, lots of coffee and the most genial host you could imagine and all for 37 Euros and that included the beer. If you ever find yourself in Dannemarie, which of itself is not without charm, it would be a sin to stay anywhere else.

It was impossible not to feel energised by this overnight stay and so we were once again, off to a flying start, somewhat hindered by visits to La Poste, the boulangerie and a card shop. Nonetheless, we were on our way by 09.45 and heading for Mulhouse with some trepidation (another big town). No need for all that angst; the signing through the town was faultless. Just when things are going well……………………all the signs disappeared – again! Mr. Master Navigator appeared from nowhere and made a valiant attempt. Scratching our heads at yet another unsigned junction, our rescuer appeared from a nearby driveway. We explained where we were trying to go and he directed us with a cheery gesticulation. Something, it seems, he has done many times before for the benefit of lost cyclists. Come on planners, sort it out! Back on route, (which it is unlikely we would have found unaided) I had to swallow my words on cheery folk in the morning; these we met this day were a grumpy bunch with just two responses from dozens of oncoming cyclists. Mind you, when you see that rictus smile on the face of the racing cyclist, you just know he has no reserves left for speech.

Having made the decision to stay just inside the French border before tackling Basle, we finally located the campsite after several false efforts. Our host, Mr. Must You Really Stay Here had missed the day of lectures on customer care but the site was clean with all the essential facilties. We shared our little enclave with a number of other touring veloists although they were all German speaking and my German vocabulary is a very stunted affair. A thunder storm threatens as we head for bed!

What a Find

29.05.2012        Baumes les Dames – Dannemarie   94.2 kms

We made a good start from our chalet this morning although we did have to stand by our beds for morning inspection to ensure that we had left everything as we found it! As if we wouldn’t! I reclaimed my 50 Euro deposit and we were off. This is just such a beautiful part of the Jura and the kind of ride that anyone could enjoy. The sun shining helps, but there is so much to see with the wildlife on the river/canal and the barges and leisure craft which make use of the facility. For the most part ,the riding has been a breeze, although we have had to climb two hills! Quite significant ones, if not very long. Almost worth all the puff for the views. Otherwise the track has been a gentle climb. However, at some point we must have reached a high point on the canal, for it suddenly ran downhill through a series of about ten locks just one after the other.

We /Alan had noted that there was a paucity of accommodation on this section so we had made a note of one of the few possibilities that seemed to be available. Having failed to rouse them on the phone, we were not holding out much hope of this particular auberge being open. After 92 kilometres of joyous riding, we arrived at Dannemarie, a town purported to have a tourist information centre. Not a chance! Next best thing – accost a local. The lucky one we chose was just leaving the hairdresser (excellent haircut by the way). He knew of said auberge but when he checked with the invisible hairdresser, the consensus was that it was, indeed, closed. Undaunted, our helpful local explained the location of a chambre d’hote. Tired, and with nothing else presenting as an alternative we sought the rooms suggested. What an excellent move! M. Dietmann will remain in our memories for all time and for all the right reasons. We received an enthusiastic welcome into the kind of house you will visit only once in a lifetime. It had been built by his grandfather in the 1800s and really defies description (hopefully the photos will tell a better story than any description I can detail). We had a room, with shower and toilet on the floor below. We unloaded our luggage to the accompaniment of a lot of teeth sucking and a benevolent eye and a non alcoholic beer.

It was a day somewhere near our wedding anniversary (never quite sure when it is) so we indulged in a posh nosh Alcacienne style. No chance after that of blog writing but a great day. Can’t wait for breakfast!

Spot the Two Marys

Sunday 27.05.2012   Dole – Baume les Dames   96kms

We are sharing a magnificent ranch, which overlooks swathes of verdant countryside punctuated with areas of limestone outcrops. Horses are galloping freely along the cliff tops. We are lounging in a bedroom with two double beds and white voile curtains blowing gently in the breeze……………then I wake up!

Now, last night’s accommodation may not be to everyone’s taste. It requires a special person to appreciate the crumbling concrete, the rusting ironwork and the flaking paint not to mention the retro vinyl floor which would have benefitted from a good scrub. However, the small room we shared was clean and we both enjoyed a full and undisturbed night’s sleep. Our evening meal was shared in the company of several families who had seen better times but were apparently making the best of what was available to them. (Gives one an appreciation of our good fortune). Our meal was nourishing if basic and still an improvement on that which was served up the rest of the company. We found ourselves quite alone for our breakfast at 08.30 and a pretty meagre offering it was. Bread and jam to munch, but copious quantities of orange juice (vit C for Al) and excellent coffee. Nothing here provided any sort of incentive to linger and so by 09.30 we were on the road! Better than our average. And what a morning! Beautiful weather, stunning countryside, a slightly mucky and sluggish canal, birds tweeting and the whole world bidding each other a joyful ‘bonjour’. Must be that morning people are better disposed towards their fellow man. What say you, dear reader?

At some point during the morning, we met/almost collided with another cyclist who recognised our Welsh flag. “Oh, my husband was originally from Wales although we have lived in Canada for forty years.” We exchanged pleasantries and, I like to think that it was because they were un- accompanied by Sherman and Herman, that they disappeared into the distance along the canal path. But no matter, we were to meet them again at a turn in the canal. A tunnel had been cut through the hillside for the benefit of the barges, although we had to ride over the top! On this far side it had been decided to make a feature of the entrance or exit depending on your direction of travel. A veil  of water cascaded over the aperture, accompanied by lights and mirrors in the tunnel. Rather than try and describe something so beautiful I shall ask Mr. Technician to include a photo. Anyway, it was here than that we met again our Canadian friends an exchanged a more meaningful conversation. We left them with our card and if they do get around to reading this, we would love to hear how your journey progressed.

As a result of our early start and easy, pleasant riding, we had reached Besancon by lunch time! So, no stopping there then. A quick consultation and we made the decision to risk another 40kms in the hope that the campsite named in our magic book, would live up to expectations. Whoopee doo, it has. We are ensconced in a delightful wooden chalet with views up the gorge. I can stand up to cook, we have our own bathroom and even a ‘fridge! This will be our day off stopover.

Today, we have cycled through some of the most breath-taking scenery in the Jura. Pedalling along dedicated cycle tracks alongside either the river or the canal, we have watched the river traffic; we have passed by well-appointed housing with the river in front and massive limestone cliffs to the rear. (I could have lived in one of those). And the sunshine has not failed. We have also made up some of the mileage lost yesterday. (My elephant lives to fight another day – no bits missing).       

On the Dole

Saturday 26.05.2012    Seurre – Dole  (Not very far) 50kms

The plan today was to arrive early in Dole and spend a day to catch up with washing, shopping etc. Hmmm….best laid plans and all that. We got off to a good start and the route and the weather were glorious. We bowled along in a very slight head wind wishing the world ‘bonjour’. We even cycled past a Weldoms which, on further investigation, provided us with much needed gas cylinders which we had found difficult to source. Wow, what a start. It continued thus until we arrived in said ville. Our plan was to spend the night in the Youth Hostel which came highly recommended from someone else’ blog. What do they say about plans and recommendations. Not repeatable here anyway. We cycled from rural tranquillity into traffic chaos (Whit weekend!) Dicing with death, we rapidly wished we were somewhere else. With no idea of the hostel’s  location, I rang and tried to make some sense of the directions I received. To make a bad situation worse, the biggest fair in the world was parked alongside the canal making the usual unpleasant fair noises which even Alan can hear. It was also very hot and very busy – need I say more?! In desperation, I accosted a gentleman who was fortunately, a local, and he gave very concise and clear directions. I thank him very, very much. These directions did require a challenging hill climb but finally led us…………….where? We found the church and the street but had to ask again for the building. Not what I would have recommended, but here we are. We have a room which is clean and likely to be very noisy and we have enjoyed a substantial, cheap and nourishing meal (with vit C). I am thinking posh hotel tomorrow. Watch this space. Certainly won’t be a day off. 

A Reminder

Friday 25.05.2012  Sateney – Seurre  65.2 k

I may be that, today, I am suffering from ant poisoning. Instead of water from my water bottle, I had treated myself to a can of lemonade for the night. I left it just beyond the zip, by my head, where I could reach it easily; which I did. In the light of the morning, I thought to finish the can, only to find that the ants had taken possession and many had drowned in the process thus providing me, no doubt, with an extra dose of protein. That being the case, the croissants and bread I had ordered for this morning were going to provide the antidote. Mmm…we lounged in the sunshine, already hot, drank coffee and discussed the day ahead. We have now become what I would like to call, casually organised in the morning, so in such manner, we pushed our bikes and packed trailers across the grass to the hardcore. The squishing noise that I thought was grass brushing tyres, was in fact, a flat! So, from casually organised, we became casually competent (actually the ‘we’ refers mainly to Alan). I passed the tools like any good theatre nurse and helped to unpack and repack the trailer. We were very grateful to the nice Dutch gentleman who came to offer his tools as the repair was completed! Only half an hour later we rode away into ………………………………NOSTRIL WIND. Now, Alan said I was not to make mention of my favourite topic as our readers must be tiring of hearing about it. BUT today it was impossible to ignore. It snorted at between 20 and 25 kms. This is a lot of pushing you backwards power especially when hauling Sherman and Herman. Did we let it get us down? Yes! After 65 kms we were well and truly bu……ed. The compensation was the sunshine and the beautiful countryside if we had only been able to lift our heads to view it. We did, however, lift them long enough to admire a memorial commemorating the shooting down of an allied plane in the second world war. Not only was the date mentioned but also each one of the crew who were four British, two Canadian, one New Zealander and one Australian. We have their names and feel sufficiently moved to try and search for more information later. I hope Mr. Technician will include the photo on this blog.

Having battled our way to Seurre, we set about following the map in order to find a campsite of which there were supposed to be two. Mmmm……usual story. Either our navigation is crap or the sites have moved. On arriving at a point on our map which suggested we should be welcomed to a site with restaurant, swimming pool and all the knobs and whistles, we found…………….a piece of waste ground, a young man with two very large dogs and a car kicking up gravel from a racing start at the top of a small slope. So, no campsite. Young man with two dangerous dogs was not a gangster but a very helpful young man who directed us to the campsite which he held in high regard. He was nonetheless somewhat nonplussed that we should enjoy riding bikes especially such a long way; he preferred his car. Thanking him profusely we retraced some distance, crossed the bridge as instructed and behold a campsite. Not quite the luxury we had come to expect, in fact no luxury at all. And no toilet paper. Still we could get the tent up, have a shower and cook another one pot meal. Alan worrying about scurvy as fruit is so difficult to carry without it getting squashed! Nice German couple camping alongside who were on their way to the Med pedalling bikes with battery driven motors. They reckoned they were good on the hills, but with 27 kilos of extra weight…… Apart from the road and the continual bird scarers every 30 seconds, it was fine. I am getting so I can sleep through anything and Al can’t hear it anyway. Off to Dole tomorrow for a rest.

No Mould on Us

Thursday 24.05.2012   Palinge – Sateney (Near Chalon sur Saone)  64.2kms

Hoorah, hoorah, the sun is shining . That teeny bit of blue must have developed overnight. I donned shorts this morning in spite of Alan’s derisive remarks about lasting not long before pulling on my longs. (It is still quite overcast.) Fresh bread delivered to the site was a welcome addition to chocolate muesli (Can’t think what the locals see in chocolate muesli – seems a bit like a contradiction to me). Croissants as well. A breakfast fit for a king.

Everything is still pretty damp but we were up and off in good time and looking forward to viewing France’ industrial past. It was interesting, if a little depressing, to see what must have been a very prosperous region along the canal, fallen into decline. Huge buildings, which were now  just skeletons of their former glory. It is impossible not to admire the abilities of the architects and builders of both the canal and the industry. It was an area reminiscent of the Welsh valleys after the closure of the mines and related industries.  Nonetheless we passed a cheery bunch of cyclists in a peloton who felt us worthy of recognition and waved enthusiastically. Well I think it was enthusiasm. Cycling fast racing bikes and pedalling bikes with Sherman and Herman attached, bear little resemblance to one another except the pedalling. One goes like sh.t off a shovel and the other lumbers along. As the lumberers, we are often ignored by our racing cousins, but not in this instance and much appreciated it was too.

Without paying much attention, we had gained quite a lot of height along this stretch of the canal. It’s a sort of flat and lurch-up a short steep bit type of ride. Having noted the paucity of stopping spots, we did eventually find one (I was still in my shorts and the sunshine was unbroken!) and took on much needed sustenance.  To our surprise and great pleasure, we now noted that the locks were downhill and that the countryside had metamorphosed. The topography (hope that’s the right word) had become much more undulating and even the cows had changed colour from white to brown. There was a general sense of prosperity.  As you might expect, the campsite we chose and finally located, was all that might be expected, set next to the vineyards at the foot of some hills. Apart from the dose of anti-fungal spray from the vineyard tractor and no loo paper, it was all very picturesque, and thus visited by shed loads of Brits and Dutch! We only saw one French car with caravan! Still a beautiful end to the day, sitting in the sunshine with wine in mugs tonight.

Almost Dropped the Bottle

Wednesday 23.05.2012      Decize – Palinge   98.5kms

We awoke to no rain  - well almost no rain – just a little drizzle, but very overcast. Refreshed, well watered and clean, we retrieved the bikes and trailers, paid a brief visit to the supermarket and took to the road. Just when things are looking up some chump decides to dig up a bridge thus rendering the road quite impassable without a raft. Seeing the deviation signs, I politely asked a Mr. Jobs Worth if the diversion applied to bikes. A disgruntled and unhelpful “oui” was the response. Deciding there must be a shorter option than the 10kms indicated, we ignored the sign and Mr. Jobs Worth and continued past the dire warning signs. As expected there was a much, much shorter way around indicated to us by a very nice motorist just as we reached the demolished bridge. Back on course we flagged down an oncoming pair of cyclist to alert them to the upcoming situation and what a nice couple they were. It transpired that they had run the Donau to Budapest last year and thoroughly recommended it. So good to know, and they were even older than us. Delightful people and grateful for our intervention.

Always up for a compromise, we took a slightly different route from the EV6 but still followed the canal path watching the shipping (pleasure craft) negotiating the locks. Not a great day for being on the water and it was difficult to tell the countries of origin as the flags just hung in their wetness. Always good for a laugh when it is other people fighting with the inrush of water which sends the boat awry just before the lock gates let you out!

We had planned to make a stopover in Paray le Monial but for some reason it induced in us a slight sense of discomfort, probably just because it was big and impersonal. What softees! However, before committing ourselves to another 18 kms, it seemed sensible to ring the campsite and ensure that at least some of it was open! It was, and on arrival we were greeted by a very effusive kampenmeister, who talked incessantly and explained, that in all his nearly sixty years of life, he had never experienced rain the like of which had fallen from the heavens the day before. I think we may have paid a few more Euros than was strictly necessary for the privilege of his recounting his experiences. A much more serious disaster was only just averted when Alan went to pick up the newly purchased bottle of wine, forgetting that his arm didn’t work too well, and it slipped from his grasp. Instinct, coupled with the thought of no wine, allowed him to move fast enough to retrieve the bottle at the expense of re-igniting his shoulder pain.  Said alcohol should numb it again. Our very nice Kampenmeister, spotting our lack of chairs and glasses! provided us with both. What a nice man. (I just spotted the teeniest bit of blue sky?!)

Did We Mention the Rain?

Tuesday  22.05.2012   Just south of Nevers – Decize  a mere 50kms

Did I really say that yesterday was wet? I didn’t know then what ‘wet’ really was. We do today! The weather didn’t seem too bad when we sat down to our fulsome but basic breakfast, served by our smiling hostess, but on exiting the bar to return to our room the rain was coming down in stair rods. It would be fair to say that it was a little daunting in its volume and ferocity, but we considered ourselves a match for it. Too conceited by half! Having taken a wrong turning from the hotel, (a whole kilometre), we returned to our start point already very, very wet. In optimistic frame of mind (it can only get better) we set off  again. It didn’t get better; it got much worse AND we had no provisions and only a flask of weak tea which was at best only luke warm yesterday so when we saw a huge boulangerie sign, it was a welcome sight. Turn right, straight up a 10% hill – hoorah- but sure enough at the top was a boulangerie. So, with bread, cheese, quiche and apple turnovers safely stowed on the trailer and accompanied by thunder and, presumably, lightning and another cloudburst, we descended the hill.

Not a Happy Bunny!

(Now my elephant has got off quite lightly this week but the last two days have required the odd munch.) By midday we had found no shelter when, finally, we sought divine guidance and made for a village church being assured that there would at least be a porch. NO. Not even an overhanging gargoyle. We did find a small wood store with just enough space to squeeze into and avoid the worst of the wet. We did, however, have to share the shed with biggest used condom Alan had ever seen. Quite put him off his cold tea (not even luke warm anymore).

Enough was enough, and we made the decision to call it a day at the next town and find shelter for the rest of the day and tonight. Having toured the town several times we found tourist information and arranged accommodation. So, here we are, disappointed at having completed such a short distance, but common sense must prevail and it is still coming down in stair rods! Tomorrow looks less wet, if still grey and miserable, so here’s to staying dry, or at least drier, on the morrow.  

Exciting Levees

Monday 21.05.2012 Belleville sur Loire – Just south of Nevers 82.4 kms


Well, well, well, or should that be wet, wet, wet? The met men are to be congratulated on accurately predicting an entire day of rain!

After a truly splendid breakfast, we left our hotel (Terre de Loire) in a persistent drizzle. Within half an hour it was pi…………ing down, and in another half an hour we were soaked. What joy. On the plus side, old nostril had been downgraded to starboard beam – so not quite behind but generally more supportive than not. Finding no shelter in which to stop and drink our luke- warm tea, we resorted to a café/restaurant for a coffee and a bun. Now, I have never thought we were mean, but 17 Euros for two coffees and two pieces of apple pie, is beyond reasonable in my book. If I could remember the name of the place I would name and shame.

The rain had now reached torrential proportions but here comes a point where one is sooo…. wet it really ceases to matter and that has been our state of mind all day. However, I do have one little quibble with our route planners. The surfaces and signing along the Loire route has been exceptional. The lack of provision for shelter is deplorable. Maybe they didn’t reckon on mad folk riding in the rain but the same could have been said of folk needing shade in the sun! So come on guys just a teeny weeny bit more thought. Not that we’re moaning just because we’re soaked…..

Much of our soggy pedalling today has been along the levees with small barriers to break up the boredom of endless trees on the left and crops on the right. The most excitement along the route was the appearance of a cement manufacturing plant, chuffing out dust by the shed load.

Not a campsite marked on this part of the route, so no guilt complexes. We were looking for a hotel. Nearing 80 kilometres and not wanting to go into Nevers we had spotted a place called Cuffy (great name) which boasted accommodation and food. Whoopee. Having already passed several hopefuls which were SHUT (after all it is not yet summer!), we had pinned our hopes on Cuffy. Access to the village entailed negotiating a bridge over the canal. Not any ordinary bridge, but one shaped like a hoop and constructed of wooden panels which were now very wet and very slippery. Slipping and slithering we took the bikes over first, and still slipping and slithering we returned and hauled over the trailers. A good effort we thought, looking forward to our nice warm hotel. Ha,ha, - nothing, zilch. No return over that bridge so off we set in the direction of Nevers. We are now ensconced in ‘The Frog’; basic but warm and dry with a bar! So, cheers all, until tomorrow.