Well, that's the end of our riding for this holiday. I will be riding around Barcelona with Cam, and out to his studio, about 7 km from their flat, but that will be about it. Sue doesn't like riding around town, even though their are many bike lanes. I must admit it can be a bit chaotic and keeps the adrenalin moving. Dealing with pedestrians in bike lanes, cyclists going the wrong way in the bike lane, cars turning across the bike lanes, and getting used to the fact that cyclists seem to ignore traffic lights. At best, cyclists will wait until the warning light indicates that the lights are about to change, and then start moving, as do the motor scooters and motor bikes. At other times, cyclists move out into the intersection to see if their is any traffic moving with the lights. If not, they cross the intersection, even though they are facing a red light. Nobody seems too fussed by this behaviour, but I understand that you accept full responsibility if you are hit by a car when behaving in this fashion. I have to admit to a few close shaves when trying to ride like a local, but having difficulty in working out which direction the traffic is coming from. But I am still alive, so all is well. I sometimes ride the Birdy, but at other times use the 3 speed community bikes. These are free for the first 30 minutes and there is a charge of 30c per 15 minutes after that. There are bicing stations all over the city, and removes all concern of having your bike stolen. Cam uses 3 locks with his bike - U lock, a Dutch style lock on the back wheel (attaches to the rear fork. When activated, a bolt passes between the spokes near the rim, making it impossible to turn or remove the wheel) and another huge chain which is most commonly used with motor scooters. It is essential to lock the frame, the front and back wheels and also the seat. The streets of Barcelona are littered with bike frames minus wheels and seats, with the frame locked to a post.
We spent two weeks with Cam and Leila, and were to go to Croatia for two weeks, but as Leila was going to Italy to visit her parents and spend time with a friend, we cut our trip to Croatia to 8 days, enough to make us want to see more of the country. We stayed a week in Split and then had two days in Dubrovnik before flying back to Barcelona. We stayed at a time-share unit in Split, and went on three trips organised by the hosts, meeting some very nice Russians, one of whom spoke English, and enabled some communication between us to complement the smiles.
Back in Barcelona, we are spending quite a bit of time at Cam's studio, as he has convinced Sue to do a linocut measuring 1800x1200, three or four times larger than anything Sue has undertaken. We have less than a week before we had back to Australia, so all stops are out to finish the cut and for Cam to print it. Once Sue has completed the detailed cutting, Cam and I will be cutting out the blank surrounds of the print. We have also been attending life drawing with Cam at an artist's community workshop in Barcelona. There a three hour sessions each morning, afternoon and evening 6 days a week. Some rooms have fixed poses for the week, others shorter. The one we have attended most has poses of 3,5 and 8 minutes. It is very intense. There are some 900 members of the community. Sue and I attended as casual members, paying 4 Euros each per session.
This as been a fabulous holiday. It will be sad to say goodbye to Cam next week, but it will be good to go home and see the girls and their husbands/partners and our grandchildren - as well as our friends and to settle into the routine of home again. It will also be good to say goodbye to the humidity of Barcelona - and the crowds. It will also be good to get away from the endless stairs you have to climb in Europe. Leila has just bought two apartments in Barcelona which they will renovate into one apartment and thankfully it is only on the second floor.
See you soon, and I hope this blog has not bored you witless.
Iain and Sue
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
July 9 Barcelona
Cam and I went out to his studio today to fix Leila's bike in preparation for our ride this weekend up into the Pyranees. Sue spent a fruitless day looking around the shops for shoes. The humidity is quite high and Sue and I are feeling very tired a lot of the time - if we see a bed we seem to lie down and doze.
July 11 - 14 Ripoll to La Pinya (near Olot) to Girona by bike
Leila finished work early today so that we could load our bikes onto the 12.15 train for the 1.5 hour trip to Ripoll, the start of the rail trail towards Olot. Cam said that it would be an easy 15 km ride along the rail trail. When we got off the train we were stopped by the sight of the mountains immediately behind the town which seemed to head straight for the sky. Fortunately trains don't go straight up mountains. We had a sausage sandwich at a bar opposite the station before stocking up on water, bananas and chocolate. We located the start of the trail quite easily and were pleased to see that it was sealed. The trail headed along the side of the range, climbing steadily for 12 kms to the old station at Sant Joan de les Abadesses. The station now houses a coffee shop, so we stopped for coffee before searching for the continuation of the trail, which was on the road for the rest of the way.
The trail took a steep downhill towards the river and then crossed a strange cobbled bridge which sloped up to a ridge and down the other side. In town we had to stop and ask for directions a couple of times before finding a road which coincided with the map Cam had. The road climbed steadily for probably 8 km before reaching the Col de Santigosa at 1010m. The hard work of the climb was rewarded by a long downhill of perhaps 12 kms. We stopped part way down to admire the view into the valley. We knew that we had to turn off the main road to reach our destination. I was really enjoying the downhill, but did see a turn-off and fortunately decided to wait for the others about 300m past the road. Leila stopped with me. If we hadn't stopped, it would have added another 10 kms to the ride. The turn-off took us down a narrow, steep winding road past a number of very large haciendas. Soon after we were relieved to see the sign to our accommodation - Mars Garganta - even if the steep driveway was more suited to mountain bikes than to Birdys.
Mars Garganta is a very old attractive farmhouse sitting on the side of the hill, operating as a B&B. Parts of the original farmhouse remain, and date from 1350. Everything is old and rustic. In a room off the main entrance there is an old kitchen sink, old kitchen utensils, a large wooden table, a big open fireplace with curved high-backed wooden seats surrounding the fireplace. The timber on the seats is very worn with the carved sections barely recognisable. The flooring of the first floor in this old part of the building was huge slabs of timber, without tongue and groove, making it possible to look up through the gaps in sections. Our bedrooms were family suites in a newer section of the house. Being summer, meals are served on a huge open verandah overlooking the mountain ranges. We had arranged to have our evening meal at the house as well as breakfast. It was very relaxing sitting around the mealtable, looking over the hills and listening to the tinkle of the cow bells. On the way up the trail we had noticed that many of the cattle were wearing bells around their necks, making a very romantic continuous sound as even when they were lying down, they were shaking their heads to disturb the flies. This sound also put us to sleep and also wakened us in the mornings.
On Saturday it was overcast with bursts of drizzle. After a sumptuous breakfast on the balcony, enjoying the view through the arches, we lazed around until around midday in case it rained. With optimism we hopped on our bikes and rode the 7kms into Olot, along undulating rural roads and then on railtrail into town. There are a lot of old volcanoes in this area, so after lunch in the town square, we rode to the base of one of the volcanoes, and Sue minded the bikes while Leila, Cam and I climbed up to the rim, walking around the old monastery and inspecting the defense towers spaced around the rim. We headed home and stopped at a small cafe along the trail for a coffee, before having a look in the Parc de Pedra Tosca. This was an area of communal gardens, the small irregular sized and shaped plots being marked out by stone fences, and planted with different crops - beans, lavender, corn.
It was looking a little overcast when we went into the park, so we didn't stay very long- but we did stay too long as on the way home it started to thunder and then rain became progressively heavier. Sue was the only one with a raincoat, but even she was pretty wet when we arrived back at Mars Garganta. The lady of the house delighted us by offering to put our clothes into the drier.
Another good night's rest and an even more extensive breakfast, before heading into Olot. Leila has to go back to Barcelona tonight, so we had to arrange her bus trip. We thought that she could go at 4.30 to Girona and then catch the train to Barcelona, but found that this bus wouldn't take the bike, even though it was not fully booked and there was very little in the luggage compartments when it departed. At 7.30, an identical bus took Leila and the bike back to Ripoll to catch the last train for the day. With only 20 minutes between the ETA of the bus and the departure of the train, Cam was anxious about Leila's welfare, and we were all relieved some 1.5 hours later to receive a call from Leila to say that she had caught the train.
On the way back into town, we again visited the Parc to search out a hillock from which there was supposed to be good views over the area. We eventually found the hillock, after a bit of trailbashing, only to find that trees well and truly blocked any view that might have been had. We then set out to find a restaurant which had been recommended to us. We ended up on some dirt track with wet patches, and as I attempted to avoid the water, my front wheel did a right turn, throwing me down the embankment. It was a soft landing, but I came up a bit grubby, so when we arrived at the restaurant, to be greeted in the car park by an attendant in black pants, white shirt and vest, we wondered whether we would be acceptable clientele. No problem - we were shown where to put our bikes and shown into a large marquee, where we enjoyed lunch together.
After lunch, we rode around town to fill in time before the bus left. Being a Sunday, there was little traffic. The river El fluvia runs through the centre of town, so there was some pleasant paths to ride.
Back to Mars Garganta for another big evening meal, bed and up to another big breakfast before heading off for the 64 km ride to Girona. The trail today was rail trail, flat good surface out of Olot before a 3 km climb to the Col d'en Bas and then it was all downhill to Girona - apart from a couple of sections which bore no resemblance of a railway track and involved several short but steep downhills with steep rocky uphills, again far more suited to mountain bikes, but which I am pleased to say, didn't daunt the Birdys.
About 20 kms into the ride we pulled in to a small village, crossing the river on a quaint stone bridge, winding up narrow one-way streets to the square where we sat outside under the trees and enjoyed our coffees. On the way out of town, I stopped to take some photos on Leila's camera. I turned the corner to see a crowd of people around Sue who was picking herself up off the footpath. The wheel of her bike must have been parallel to a raised section of tarmac, and when she went to turn the wheel, the surface resisted and she lost her balance, hitting her head and shin on the way down. After dusting herself off and checking that nothing was broken, we headed out of town. It was a beautiful sunny day, the via verde was downhill, and even a short period of being lost and Sue's sore shin couldn't detract from a great day's ride. On arriving in Girona we located the station with minimal difficulty. Fortunately the train was running late, so we had time to buy our tickets and find the station, heading back to Barcelona with little delay.
The end of a wonderful week-end away with Cam and Leila.
Cam and I went out to his studio today to fix Leila's bike in preparation for our ride this weekend up into the Pyranees. Sue spent a fruitless day looking around the shops for shoes. The humidity is quite high and Sue and I are feeling very tired a lot of the time - if we see a bed we seem to lie down and doze.
July 11 - 14 Ripoll to La Pinya (near Olot) to Girona by bike
Leila finished work early today so that we could load our bikes onto the 12.15 train for the 1.5 hour trip to Ripoll, the start of the rail trail towards Olot. Cam said that it would be an easy 15 km ride along the rail trail. When we got off the train we were stopped by the sight of the mountains immediately behind the town which seemed to head straight for the sky. Fortunately trains don't go straight up mountains. We had a sausage sandwich at a bar opposite the station before stocking up on water, bananas and chocolate. We located the start of the trail quite easily and were pleased to see that it was sealed. The trail headed along the side of the range, climbing steadily for 12 kms to the old station at Sant Joan de les Abadesses. The station now houses a coffee shop, so we stopped for coffee before searching for the continuation of the trail, which was on the road for the rest of the way.
The trail took a steep downhill towards the river and then crossed a strange cobbled bridge which sloped up to a ridge and down the other side. In town we had to stop and ask for directions a couple of times before finding a road which coincided with the map Cam had. The road climbed steadily for probably 8 km before reaching the Col de Santigosa at 1010m. The hard work of the climb was rewarded by a long downhill of perhaps 12 kms. We stopped part way down to admire the view into the valley. We knew that we had to turn off the main road to reach our destination. I was really enjoying the downhill, but did see a turn-off and fortunately decided to wait for the others about 300m past the road. Leila stopped with me. If we hadn't stopped, it would have added another 10 kms to the ride. The turn-off took us down a narrow, steep winding road past a number of very large haciendas. Soon after we were relieved to see the sign to our accommodation - Mars Garganta - even if the steep driveway was more suited to mountain bikes than to Birdys.
Mars Garganta is a very old attractive farmhouse sitting on the side of the hill, operating as a B&B. Parts of the original farmhouse remain, and date from 1350. Everything is old and rustic. In a room off the main entrance there is an old kitchen sink, old kitchen utensils, a large wooden table, a big open fireplace with curved high-backed wooden seats surrounding the fireplace. The timber on the seats is very worn with the carved sections barely recognisable. The flooring of the first floor in this old part of the building was huge slabs of timber, without tongue and groove, making it possible to look up through the gaps in sections. Our bedrooms were family suites in a newer section of the house. Being summer, meals are served on a huge open verandah overlooking the mountain ranges. We had arranged to have our evening meal at the house as well as breakfast. It was very relaxing sitting around the mealtable, looking over the hills and listening to the tinkle of the cow bells. On the way up the trail we had noticed that many of the cattle were wearing bells around their necks, making a very romantic continuous sound as even when they were lying down, they were shaking their heads to disturb the flies. This sound also put us to sleep and also wakened us in the mornings.
On Saturday it was overcast with bursts of drizzle. After a sumptuous breakfast on the balcony, enjoying the view through the arches, we lazed around until around midday in case it rained. With optimism we hopped on our bikes and rode the 7kms into Olot, along undulating rural roads and then on railtrail into town. There are a lot of old volcanoes in this area, so after lunch in the town square, we rode to the base of one of the volcanoes, and Sue minded the bikes while Leila, Cam and I climbed up to the rim, walking around the old monastery and inspecting the defense towers spaced around the rim. We headed home and stopped at a small cafe along the trail for a coffee, before having a look in the Parc de Pedra Tosca. This was an area of communal gardens, the small irregular sized and shaped plots being marked out by stone fences, and planted with different crops - beans, lavender, corn.
It was looking a little overcast when we went into the park, so we didn't stay very long- but we did stay too long as on the way home it started to thunder and then rain became progressively heavier. Sue was the only one with a raincoat, but even she was pretty wet when we arrived back at Mars Garganta. The lady of the house delighted us by offering to put our clothes into the drier.
Another good night's rest and an even more extensive breakfast, before heading into Olot. Leila has to go back to Barcelona tonight, so we had to arrange her bus trip. We thought that she could go at 4.30 to Girona and then catch the train to Barcelona, but found that this bus wouldn't take the bike, even though it was not fully booked and there was very little in the luggage compartments when it departed. At 7.30, an identical bus took Leila and the bike back to Ripoll to catch the last train for the day. With only 20 minutes between the ETA of the bus and the departure of the train, Cam was anxious about Leila's welfare, and we were all relieved some 1.5 hours later to receive a call from Leila to say that she had caught the train.
On the way back into town, we again visited the Parc to search out a hillock from which there was supposed to be good views over the area. We eventually found the hillock, after a bit of trailbashing, only to find that trees well and truly blocked any view that might have been had. We then set out to find a restaurant which had been recommended to us. We ended up on some dirt track with wet patches, and as I attempted to avoid the water, my front wheel did a right turn, throwing me down the embankment. It was a soft landing, but I came up a bit grubby, so when we arrived at the restaurant, to be greeted in the car park by an attendant in black pants, white shirt and vest, we wondered whether we would be acceptable clientele. No problem - we were shown where to put our bikes and shown into a large marquee, where we enjoyed lunch together.
After lunch, we rode around town to fill in time before the bus left. Being a Sunday, there was little traffic. The river El fluvia runs through the centre of town, so there was some pleasant paths to ride.
Back to Mars Garganta for another big evening meal, bed and up to another big breakfast before heading off for the 64 km ride to Girona. The trail today was rail trail, flat good surface out of Olot before a 3 km climb to the Col d'en Bas and then it was all downhill to Girona - apart from a couple of sections which bore no resemblance of a railway track and involved several short but steep downhills with steep rocky uphills, again far more suited to mountain bikes, but which I am pleased to say, didn't daunt the Birdys.
About 20 kms into the ride we pulled in to a small village, crossing the river on a quaint stone bridge, winding up narrow one-way streets to the square where we sat outside under the trees and enjoyed our coffees. On the way out of town, I stopped to take some photos on Leila's camera. I turned the corner to see a crowd of people around Sue who was picking herself up off the footpath. The wheel of her bike must have been parallel to a raised section of tarmac, and when she went to turn the wheel, the surface resisted and she lost her balance, hitting her head and shin on the way down. After dusting herself off and checking that nothing was broken, we headed out of town. It was a beautiful sunny day, the via verde was downhill, and even a short period of being lost and Sue's sore shin couldn't detract from a great day's ride. On arriving in Girona we located the station with minimal difficulty. Fortunately the train was running late, so we had time to buy our tickets and find the station, heading back to Barcelona with little delay.
The end of a wonderful week-end away with Cam and Leila.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
July 6 Bilbao
After a good sleep and a pleasant, cheap coffee and croissant breakfast, we went to the station to book our seats on the day train to Barcelona for tomorrow. Cam became unofficial interpreter for a number of non-Spanish speaking tourists and the booking officers, and we had left the station before realising that we had not asked about the bikes, so back to the station to check this out. As bikes were not welcome on the day train we changed our booking to sleepers on the night train, with assurance from the booking officer that there would be plenty of room for the bikes and luggage under the bunks. Cam was again interpreting, and Iain put the camera down on the counter while signing the bank card slip. We left the booking office before Iain realised that he did not have the camera. We had only walked about 30 metres from the counter, but when we returned of course the camera was gone. It had not been handed in, and a quick check of the station precincts for someone selling a camera was unseccessful. This was a devastating loss. The 400 photo visual record of our tour in France was gone. Sue always keeps a detailed diary, but I had concentrated on the visual record, with many photos of the route and the wonderful things that we had seen, including many shots of the stone and wooden carvings adorning the houses and buildings that we had passed along the way. It took me many hours to settle down after this loss.
After another coffee, we headed off across town to visit the Googenheim Museum. The road out of Bilbao sweeps onto a bridge high above the river and overlooking the Museum. It is a spectacular sight. The vertical and square surfaces are made of stone and the huge curved surfaces of sheets of titanium. Inside, I found the most attractive section was the sculptures of Richard Serra. The largest space in the museum houses his huge steel structures, panels of 50mm steel 3.6m high, freestanding sweeping curves and spirals through which you can walk, experiencing varying sensations as the walls are not parallel or matching, so that sometimes the walls seem to close over you, and in other places open your view up to the roof. This description does his work no justice, so I suggest that you look it up on the internet. Sue also really enjoyed the surrealist exhibition, but it didn't do much for me. There were a couple of other interesting installations, one room with a couple of dozen male figures in different stances but with the same face, positioned in groups, amongst whom you could walk. In another room, the floor was of lino in a geometric pattern of yellow and black, designed to give the illusion of box shapes, with a brass strip across the room. I was blithely walking across the room looking around the blank walls when an attendant asked me not to walk on the brass strip as this was part of the installation. I somehow missed the point. I left Cam and Sue to the joys and wonders of modern art, and went for a walk, meeting up with them later.
July 7 Bilbao/ Bilbao to Barcelona
Our train didn't leave until 10.25 pm, so we had another day to look around Bilbao, leaving our luggage in the apartment of the owner of the pension we stayed at. After a fruitless check at the station to see if the camera had been handed in, it was off to the police station to file a lost/stolen report for the insurance company. The police were very polite and friendly, but even with Cam to do the talking, we spent over an hour getting the report made. The process must drive the police crazy.
Cam and I went for a ride on a finicula up to the top of the hills surrounding Bilbao and enjoyed almost a birds-eye view of the city and surrounding areas. Sue elected to stay at sea level and walked around the Guggenheim exterior and the river front until we returned. After some lunch, we bought a tram ticket and went for a ride to the end of the line and back, meeting a Swiss couple doing the same thing.
After dinner, we decided to go early to the station to pack up the bikes in a leisurely fashion and wait for the train, which we had been told was fully booked.
After a security check of ourselves and our luggage we found our carriage and carried the bags onto the train and along the narrow side passage to our cabin. The cabin was minimal size with 6 bunks providing only room for sleeping - no sitting up in bed and reading a book! As for storing the bikes under the bunks, there wasn't room for anything but very small bags. After some consideration of a sizeable dilemma, Cam and I removed the ladder and packed the bikes and bags behind the ladder and hoped that no one else was going to arrive to share the cabin. This feeling of apprehension was repeated each time the train stopped overnight. Although the train was full, no one arrived to fill our three vacant bunks. We suspect that the booking clerk somehow contrived to leave these bunks vacant in appreciation of Cam's assistance with interpreting.
We all slept well and arrived to the humidity of Barcelona at around 9.30 am. We then assembled the bikes, Cam got a 'bicing' (community bike) and we headed for Cam and Leila's apartment mostly along bike lanes.
We hadn't seen the apartment before, and despite it being only around 80 square metres in size, the fact that it is more square than rectangle, means that it is possible for four people to occupy the apartment without getting too much under each other's feet. The flat is bright and airy, with lovely patterned tiles. Of course, it is on the fourth floor with no lift, so we are back to climbing stairs.
After a shower and a change of clothes we headed into town to meet Leila for lunch. She is an architect, and starts work at around 10.30, has a lunch break from 2-4, and then works until 8 or 9pm. Consequently, dinner is very late, as is going to bed.
After lunch we headed for the Birdy dealer to try and get a replacement for the pin I had lost somewhere in France. The pin I fashioned out of a stick found on the ground at Cancale had lasted the distance - probably some 500 kms. As we were going to go for a weekend ride into the hills at the week-end, we were pleased when a replacement pin was available and able to be fitted without too much delay.
After a good sleep and a pleasant, cheap coffee and croissant breakfast, we went to the station to book our seats on the day train to Barcelona for tomorrow. Cam became unofficial interpreter for a number of non-Spanish speaking tourists and the booking officers, and we had left the station before realising that we had not asked about the bikes, so back to the station to check this out. As bikes were not welcome on the day train we changed our booking to sleepers on the night train, with assurance from the booking officer that there would be plenty of room for the bikes and luggage under the bunks. Cam was again interpreting, and Iain put the camera down on the counter while signing the bank card slip. We left the booking office before Iain realised that he did not have the camera. We had only walked about 30 metres from the counter, but when we returned of course the camera was gone. It had not been handed in, and a quick check of the station precincts for someone selling a camera was unseccessful. This was a devastating loss. The 400 photo visual record of our tour in France was gone. Sue always keeps a detailed diary, but I had concentrated on the visual record, with many photos of the route and the wonderful things that we had seen, including many shots of the stone and wooden carvings adorning the houses and buildings that we had passed along the way. It took me many hours to settle down after this loss.
After another coffee, we headed off across town to visit the Googenheim Museum. The road out of Bilbao sweeps onto a bridge high above the river and overlooking the Museum. It is a spectacular sight. The vertical and square surfaces are made of stone and the huge curved surfaces of sheets of titanium. Inside, I found the most attractive section was the sculptures of Richard Serra. The largest space in the museum houses his huge steel structures, panels of 50mm steel 3.6m high, freestanding sweeping curves and spirals through which you can walk, experiencing varying sensations as the walls are not parallel or matching, so that sometimes the walls seem to close over you, and in other places open your view up to the roof. This description does his work no justice, so I suggest that you look it up on the internet. Sue also really enjoyed the surrealist exhibition, but it didn't do much for me. There were a couple of other interesting installations, one room with a couple of dozen male figures in different stances but with the same face, positioned in groups, amongst whom you could walk. In another room, the floor was of lino in a geometric pattern of yellow and black, designed to give the illusion of box shapes, with a brass strip across the room. I was blithely walking across the room looking around the blank walls when an attendant asked me not to walk on the brass strip as this was part of the installation. I somehow missed the point. I left Cam and Sue to the joys and wonders of modern art, and went for a walk, meeting up with them later.
July 7 Bilbao/ Bilbao to Barcelona
Our train didn't leave until 10.25 pm, so we had another day to look around Bilbao, leaving our luggage in the apartment of the owner of the pension we stayed at. After a fruitless check at the station to see if the camera had been handed in, it was off to the police station to file a lost/stolen report for the insurance company. The police were very polite and friendly, but even with Cam to do the talking, we spent over an hour getting the report made. The process must drive the police crazy.
Cam and I went for a ride on a finicula up to the top of the hills surrounding Bilbao and enjoyed almost a birds-eye view of the city and surrounding areas. Sue elected to stay at sea level and walked around the Guggenheim exterior and the river front until we returned. After some lunch, we bought a tram ticket and went for a ride to the end of the line and back, meeting a Swiss couple doing the same thing.
After dinner, we decided to go early to the station to pack up the bikes in a leisurely fashion and wait for the train, which we had been told was fully booked.
After a security check of ourselves and our luggage we found our carriage and carried the bags onto the train and along the narrow side passage to our cabin. The cabin was minimal size with 6 bunks providing only room for sleeping - no sitting up in bed and reading a book! As for storing the bikes under the bunks, there wasn't room for anything but very small bags. After some consideration of a sizeable dilemma, Cam and I removed the ladder and packed the bikes and bags behind the ladder and hoped that no one else was going to arrive to share the cabin. This feeling of apprehension was repeated each time the train stopped overnight. Although the train was full, no one arrived to fill our three vacant bunks. We suspect that the booking clerk somehow contrived to leave these bunks vacant in appreciation of Cam's assistance with interpreting.
We all slept well and arrived to the humidity of Barcelona at around 9.30 am. We then assembled the bikes, Cam got a 'bicing' (community bike) and we headed for Cam and Leila's apartment mostly along bike lanes.
We hadn't seen the apartment before, and despite it being only around 80 square metres in size, the fact that it is more square than rectangle, means that it is possible for four people to occupy the apartment without getting too much under each other's feet. The flat is bright and airy, with lovely patterned tiles. Of course, it is on the fourth floor with no lift, so we are back to climbing stairs.
After a shower and a change of clothes we headed into town to meet Leila for lunch. She is an architect, and starts work at around 10.30, has a lunch break from 2-4, and then works until 8 or 9pm. Consequently, dinner is very late, as is going to bed.
After lunch we headed for the Birdy dealer to try and get a replacement for the pin I had lost somewhere in France. The pin I fashioned out of a stick found on the ground at Cancale had lasted the distance - probably some 500 kms. As we were going to go for a weekend ride into the hills at the week-end, we were pleased when a replacement pin was available and able to be fitted without too much delay.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
July 5 Irun to Miranda del Elba, Miranda del Elba to Bilbao to meet Cameron
Drizzling this morning, but fortunately it eased as we left to ride to the station. Station office staff indicated that we did not need to pack the bikes into the bags, but station staff advised otherwise, so we packed up before boarding the train to find very little baggage space. I left the bikes in the corridor as had been done on other trains. However, a very officious little ticket inspector attacked me in rapid French (fortunately, because it was very easy to appear dumb), before making me carry the bikes the length of the carriage to another storage area.
After a 3.5 hour journey we disembarked and had a 4 hour wait before our train on to Bilbao. Sue didn't favour the idea of unpacking the bikes and exploring the town, instead opting to read and guard our bags. Eventually, I did go for a walk into town - newer and not all that attractive.
The final leg of our journey to Bilbao took us into the Alps. We were surprised at the number of large industrial cities that we passed, with scores of high rise flats.
Arrived in Bilbao around 10 pm, having been unable to contact Cam to let him know of our later arrival time - he was expecting us to be there around 7 pm. We unpacked the bikes, loaded the panniers, and just a I was heading for an information map to try and locate our accommodation, we were greatly relieved to see Cam arrive. When he led us to the accommodation, I was even more thankful, as I would have had a lot of trouble finding the way. I was finding it difficult to stop thinking in French. Third floor rooms with community facilities, but clean and comfortable, and with an extra pair of hands to help with the carrying, not too bad a climb.
Drizzling this morning, but fortunately it eased as we left to ride to the station. Station office staff indicated that we did not need to pack the bikes into the bags, but station staff advised otherwise, so we packed up before boarding the train to find very little baggage space. I left the bikes in the corridor as had been done on other trains. However, a very officious little ticket inspector attacked me in rapid French (fortunately, because it was very easy to appear dumb), before making me carry the bikes the length of the carriage to another storage area.
After a 3.5 hour journey we disembarked and had a 4 hour wait before our train on to Bilbao. Sue didn't favour the idea of unpacking the bikes and exploring the town, instead opting to read and guard our bags. Eventually, I did go for a walk into town - newer and not all that attractive.
The final leg of our journey to Bilbao took us into the Alps. We were surprised at the number of large industrial cities that we passed, with scores of high rise flats.
Arrived in Bilbao around 10 pm, having been unable to contact Cam to let him know of our later arrival time - he was expecting us to be there around 7 pm. We unpacked the bikes, loaded the panniers, and just a I was heading for an information map to try and locate our accommodation, we were greatly relieved to see Cam arrive. When he led us to the accommodation, I was even more thankful, as I would have had a lot of trouble finding the way. I was finding it difficult to stop thinking in French. Third floor rooms with community facilities, but clean and comfortable, and with an extra pair of hands to help with the carrying, not too bad a climb.
July 4 Train from Vannes to Irun
As we had some time before the train was due to leave, we decided to have a look around the town on the other side of the railway. A boring one hour walk, cut short because it looked as though it might rain.
Wheeled our loaded bikes across to the station and enquired whether we could transport them assembled with panniers attached. OK for the trips from Vannes to Nantes and Nantes to Bordeaux, but we would have to pack them up before boarding the fast train to Irun.
Train left from platform 2, and we were not allowed to cross the tracks via the walkway (as we had at Auray) but had to carry them downstairs to the tunnel and then back up the stairs to the station. Fortunately, on all our train journeys we found many Sir Gallahads willing to help to carry the bikes and to load them on the trains. The first train floor was the same height as the platform, so loading was easy. Leant the bikes against others and found our seats for the journey.
At Nantes we only had 19 minutes between trains, but left from the platform we arrived at, so no problems. Problems started when the train arrived - two narrow steep steps from the platform into the train, and then through a narrow door to access the bike storage area. I made the mistake of wheeling the bikes into the room - when we came to alight, the area was full of bikes and it was very difficult to turn them around, let alone trying to get out against the tide of passengers trying to move into the narrow passageway. Fortunately, help was readily available. The journey from Nantes to Bordeaux took 4.5 hours and was quite enjoyable, seeing the changing countryside. Much of it looked as though it would be easy riding, but not as interesting as Brittany and Normandy.
At Bordeaux we packed the bikes and panniers into their bags. We had a carriage number, but no allocated seats, as it was the start of the holiday season and bookings were heavy. When the train arrived it had umpteen carriages and we were sent in the wrong direction. Carrying two 18 kg and two 15 kg bags is no laughing matter. Afraid of missing the train, and exhausted from the long carry, we climbed aboard a first class carriage, to find that the end section of first class carriages, the section over the wheels, is second class. Put the bike bags into any spare space. Sue got a fold-down seat next to our luggage; Iain had to go a couple of carriages away to find a similar seat. Arrived at Irun, at the border between France and Spain at around 10 pm. After passing through the border check, we loaded our bags onto a trolley and went to look for a taxi to go to our hotel. Plenty of taxis, but no drivers. After a while we decided to unpack the bikes and walk the 2.5 kms to the hotel. Sue got a local to draw us a map of the route. At the first intersection, I took a turn in the right direction, but the wrong road. Asked a very pleasant couple, who told us how to get to the hotel. It was a very pleasant evening for a walk, but as our route took us into a very commercial area, with few people, we were relieved to find the hotel, just in time to get a light meal from the kitchen before they closed for the night. We were able to lock the loaded bikes in the conference room. Slept well, despite all the excitement.
As we had some time before the train was due to leave, we decided to have a look around the town on the other side of the railway. A boring one hour walk, cut short because it looked as though it might rain.
Wheeled our loaded bikes across to the station and enquired whether we could transport them assembled with panniers attached. OK for the trips from Vannes to Nantes and Nantes to Bordeaux, but we would have to pack them up before boarding the fast train to Irun.
Train left from platform 2, and we were not allowed to cross the tracks via the walkway (as we had at Auray) but had to carry them downstairs to the tunnel and then back up the stairs to the station. Fortunately, on all our train journeys we found many Sir Gallahads willing to help to carry the bikes and to load them on the trains. The first train floor was the same height as the platform, so loading was easy. Leant the bikes against others and found our seats for the journey.
At Nantes we only had 19 minutes between trains, but left from the platform we arrived at, so no problems. Problems started when the train arrived - two narrow steep steps from the platform into the train, and then through a narrow door to access the bike storage area. I made the mistake of wheeling the bikes into the room - when we came to alight, the area was full of bikes and it was very difficult to turn them around, let alone trying to get out against the tide of passengers trying to move into the narrow passageway. Fortunately, help was readily available. The journey from Nantes to Bordeaux took 4.5 hours and was quite enjoyable, seeing the changing countryside. Much of it looked as though it would be easy riding, but not as interesting as Brittany and Normandy.
At Bordeaux we packed the bikes and panniers into their bags. We had a carriage number, but no allocated seats, as it was the start of the holiday season and bookings were heavy. When the train arrived it had umpteen carriages and we were sent in the wrong direction. Carrying two 18 kg and two 15 kg bags is no laughing matter. Afraid of missing the train, and exhausted from the long carry, we climbed aboard a first class carriage, to find that the end section of first class carriages, the section over the wheels, is second class. Put the bike bags into any spare space. Sue got a fold-down seat next to our luggage; Iain had to go a couple of carriages away to find a similar seat. Arrived at Irun, at the border between France and Spain at around 10 pm. After passing through the border check, we loaded our bags onto a trolley and went to look for a taxi to go to our hotel. Plenty of taxis, but no drivers. After a while we decided to unpack the bikes and walk the 2.5 kms to the hotel. Sue got a local to draw us a map of the route. At the first intersection, I took a turn in the right direction, but the wrong road. Asked a very pleasant couple, who told us how to get to the hotel. It was a very pleasant evening for a walk, but as our route took us into a very commercial area, with few people, we were relieved to find the hotel, just in time to get a light meal from the kitchen before they closed for the night. We were able to lock the loaded bikes in the conference room. Slept well, despite all the excitement.
July 2, 3 Vannes
Raining today. Our luck with the weather has been amazing - as I have mentioned before, everyday that it has rained we have been off he bikes. Walked in to the old town of Vannes, admiring the old half-timbered houses, many with wooden carvings on the main support posts of the house. At ground level, most of these properties are shops. Visited two museums, Chateau Gaillard (Museum of History & Archeology) and La Cohune (Museum of Fine Arts). Chateau Gaillard is in an urban mansion dating from the 15thC, still retaining the original layout. One room comprised beautifully painted panels depicting hermits and some of the saints. Wooden ceilings were also heavily carved. Collections of books, stuffed animals, birds eggs, ivory vessels, wooden and stone religious sculptures. La Cohune was not as impressive as the Chateau, but was well set out and contained some interesting prints and other works.
Museumed out, we bought a baguette to share and went into a bar for a coffee.
Spent some time in the huge centuries old Church of St Peter, admiring the furniture and artifacts, and thinking of the thousands of feet which have walked over the huge flat floor stones.
Walked around some of the newer parts of Vannes, eventually going back to the same restaurant as last night, the Macbal, for dinner.
Next day, after washing our clothes we headed back to the old city, taking a ride on the tourist train, which gave us a different perspective of the town, the commentary expanding our knowledge. After the ride we went back in to the gardens just outside the old town wall and looked at the wash houses along the river channel, built around 1820. Saw a couple of art exhibitions, before having lunch and returning to our hotel for a rest and to watch a bit of Wimbledon. TV was full of the news of the release of the French Columbian journalist, Ingrid Bidencourt, held captive by Columbian rebels for 7 years.
Dinner again at the Macbal, welcomed warmly by the owner and his wife, and given a free coffee to complete our meal. Food was good, atmosphere friendly - many locals dine there.
Raining today. Our luck with the weather has been amazing - as I have mentioned before, everyday that it has rained we have been off he bikes. Walked in to the old town of Vannes, admiring the old half-timbered houses, many with wooden carvings on the main support posts of the house. At ground level, most of these properties are shops. Visited two museums, Chateau Gaillard (Museum of History & Archeology) and La Cohune (Museum of Fine Arts). Chateau Gaillard is in an urban mansion dating from the 15thC, still retaining the original layout. One room comprised beautifully painted panels depicting hermits and some of the saints. Wooden ceilings were also heavily carved. Collections of books, stuffed animals, birds eggs, ivory vessels, wooden and stone religious sculptures. La Cohune was not as impressive as the Chateau, but was well set out and contained some interesting prints and other works.
Museumed out, we bought a baguette to share and went into a bar for a coffee.
Spent some time in the huge centuries old Church of St Peter, admiring the furniture and artifacts, and thinking of the thousands of feet which have walked over the huge flat floor stones.
Walked around some of the newer parts of Vannes, eventually going back to the same restaurant as last night, the Macbal, for dinner.
Next day, after washing our clothes we headed back to the old city, taking a ride on the tourist train, which gave us a different perspective of the town, the commentary expanding our knowledge. After the ride we went back in to the gardens just outside the old town wall and looked at the wash houses along the river channel, built around 1820. Saw a couple of art exhibitions, before having lunch and returning to our hotel for a rest and to watch a bit of Wimbledon. TV was full of the news of the release of the French Columbian journalist, Ingrid Bidencourt, held captive by Columbian rebels for 7 years.
Dinner again at the Macbal, welcomed warmly by the owner and his wife, and given a free coffee to complete our meal. Food was good, atmosphere friendly - many locals dine there.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
July1 Carnac to Auray 35kms
Last day of cycle touring today. After a shower and good breakfast we were ready to hit the road. I hadn't checked the road out yesterday, so with my great sense of direction headed out the wrong road. Saw a sign to where we wanted to go, but the road was closed due to road works, so it was back into town to start again. Fortunately we only travelled a couple of kms extra. The right road took us down to the beach road for a pleasant ride around the coast. The road became busier until we turned of to Locmariaquer to see more menhirs and dolmens. Visited and walked (stooped) into a couple of dolmens, and on the way out of town I detoured to view from the outside a huge dolmen. I caught up with Sue at the junction with the main road back to Auray. Again the traffic reduced the enjoyment, but apart from the last 4 kms, the road was easy. The last 4 kms contained a few hills to remind us at the end that cycle touring is not all easy.
Our riding ended at the Auray railway station. Almost 5 weeks and 1050 kms.
It has been a wonderful holiday, a good mix of riding and looking at the towns and villages we rode through, having coffees and relaxed lunches along the trail. On reflection 5 weeks has been a bit long for the amount of riding preparation that Sue was able to undertake and she has become fairly physically tired. She also has become a little sick of living out of panniers each day.
Next touring holiday we will probably select two or three places to use as a base and ride out to explore the surrounding countryside and then spend maybe a week on the road riding between base towns.
Although we have finished pedalling around France, I will continue the account of our travels in Spain and Croatia on the same blog.
We again were able to put the loaded bikes on the train for the short trip to Vannes, although this time we had to lift them up quite a height into a special carriage where they were locked. At Vannes we booked into a hotel just around from the station. We booked in for 3 nights before starting our train journey to Bilbao to meet son Cameron.
Although the owner is a bike rider, with a very nice carbon Colnago, he still charged us for parking our bikes in his secure storage area.
After tidying ourselves up we walked in to town to find the Information Centre, which is down on the waterfront. Used their internet to book in to an Ibis hotel in Irun - one of two reasonably priced hotels in Irun, although above what we would have liked to pay. On the way home we called in for dinner at a small restaurant recommended by our hotel manager, and enjoyed a very good, reasonably priced meal provided by a very personable owner and his cook wife who came out of the kitchen to greet us and shake our hand.
Last day of cycle touring today. After a shower and good breakfast we were ready to hit the road. I hadn't checked the road out yesterday, so with my great sense of direction headed out the wrong road. Saw a sign to where we wanted to go, but the road was closed due to road works, so it was back into town to start again. Fortunately we only travelled a couple of kms extra. The right road took us down to the beach road for a pleasant ride around the coast. The road became busier until we turned of to Locmariaquer to see more menhirs and dolmens. Visited and walked (stooped) into a couple of dolmens, and on the way out of town I detoured to view from the outside a huge dolmen. I caught up with Sue at the junction with the main road back to Auray. Again the traffic reduced the enjoyment, but apart from the last 4 kms, the road was easy. The last 4 kms contained a few hills to remind us at the end that cycle touring is not all easy.
Our riding ended at the Auray railway station. Almost 5 weeks and 1050 kms.
It has been a wonderful holiday, a good mix of riding and looking at the towns and villages we rode through, having coffees and relaxed lunches along the trail. On reflection 5 weeks has been a bit long for the amount of riding preparation that Sue was able to undertake and she has become fairly physically tired. She also has become a little sick of living out of panniers each day.
Next touring holiday we will probably select two or three places to use as a base and ride out to explore the surrounding countryside and then spend maybe a week on the road riding between base towns.
Although we have finished pedalling around France, I will continue the account of our travels in Spain and Croatia on the same blog.
We again were able to put the loaded bikes on the train for the short trip to Vannes, although this time we had to lift them up quite a height into a special carriage where they were locked. At Vannes we booked into a hotel just around from the station. We booked in for 3 nights before starting our train journey to Bilbao to meet son Cameron.
Although the owner is a bike rider, with a very nice carbon Colnago, he still charged us for parking our bikes in his secure storage area.
After tidying ourselves up we walked in to town to find the Information Centre, which is down on the waterfront. Used their internet to book in to an Ibis hotel in Irun - one of two reasonably priced hotels in Irun, although above what we would have liked to pay. On the way home we called in for dinner at a small restaurant recommended by our hotel manager, and enjoyed a very good, reasonably priced meal provided by a very personable owner and his cook wife who came out of the kitchen to greet us and shake our hand.
Monday, July 28, 2008
June 30 Lorient to Carnac
Breakfast this morning was served in the tiny, ordered back garden. Although it was a bit chilly, we enjoyed this start to our day.
This was going to another big day with over 40 kms of more hills and undulations, as well as riding on some more major roads to get out of town. To give leg-weary bodies a chance, and to give ourselves a more enjoyable day, we decided to take the train to Auray and then ride 20 kms to Carnac, giving ourselves plenty of time to look at the megaliths. Could take the assembled bikes on the train which was great.
Part of the ride was on a busy road, which was undulating, but with not too many challenging hills. Once off the main road the ride became much more enjoyable. Passed a couple of sites with a number of alignments of large rocks before coming to the Kermario Alignments in a field 1200 m long and 100 m wide with 1029 menhirs (large granite rocks) in 10 rows. Nearby was the largest menhir in the region - over 6 m high. As well as the menhirs, there are dolmens which are burial mounds built of huge slabs of rock and approached by a rock-walled and roofed tunnel. They were built by placing the wall rocks in place and then filling the area in with dirt before dragging the huge roof rocks into place, and then removing the infill soil to create the room. They all date back to at least 5000 years BC.
Arriving in Carnac, we booked into a cute, ancient inn, now a B&B, called 'Chez Nous', delighted to find that we had a ground floor room.
Visited the Museum, where we admired some skeletons which are around 6500 years old, then visited the ornate church of St Cornely, completed in 1657. Paintings, naves and altars everywhere, and beautiful stained glass windows and iron work.
Breakfast this morning was served in the tiny, ordered back garden. Although it was a bit chilly, we enjoyed this start to our day.
This was going to another big day with over 40 kms of more hills and undulations, as well as riding on some more major roads to get out of town. To give leg-weary bodies a chance, and to give ourselves a more enjoyable day, we decided to take the train to Auray and then ride 20 kms to Carnac, giving ourselves plenty of time to look at the megaliths. Could take the assembled bikes on the train which was great.
Part of the ride was on a busy road, which was undulating, but with not too many challenging hills. Once off the main road the ride became much more enjoyable. Passed a couple of sites with a number of alignments of large rocks before coming to the Kermario Alignments in a field 1200 m long and 100 m wide with 1029 menhirs (large granite rocks) in 10 rows. Nearby was the largest menhir in the region - over 6 m high. As well as the menhirs, there are dolmens which are burial mounds built of huge slabs of rock and approached by a rock-walled and roofed tunnel. They were built by placing the wall rocks in place and then filling the area in with dirt before dragging the huge roof rocks into place, and then removing the infill soil to create the room. They all date back to at least 5000 years BC.
Arriving in Carnac, we booked into a cute, ancient inn, now a B&B, called 'Chez Nous', delighted to find that we had a ground floor room.
Visited the Museum, where we admired some skeletons which are around 6500 years old, then visited the ornate church of St Cornely, completed in 1657. Paintings, naves and altars everywhere, and beautiful stained glass windows and iron work.
June 29 Pont Aven to Lorient 47 kms
After a restless night, enjoyed a very wholesome breakfast to ready us for the road. Longer ride today, so wanted to be away reasonably early. Loaded the bikes out the front, to the amusement of some Italians touring on motor bikes, and went to pay the bill. Bank card wouldn't work. Off the an ATM - same result; tried another ATM with same result. Tried to ring the bank's emergency number to be told that they were closed until Monday. It was Sunday, of course, when these sort of things always happen. Rang another number for lost and stolen cards, this time actually getting to speak to a real person, who was very helpful. Could tell me that my card had been blocked because I hadn't made a payment -eventually realised that I hadn't changed my SMS security service number from my mobile to daughter Megan who was paying all our bills while we are away. Fortunately the emergency girl was able to re-activate our account, so that when I got back to the hotel our card was thankfully working again.
On the road at 10.30 for a 3 km steady and sometimes serious climb out of town. Despite the rolling terrain, we had some good downhill sections on this ride. At the only serious down and up shown on the map, we decided to stop at the bottom at a lake to have our banana sandwich lunch, and continued on, arriving in Lorient at around 2.30pm. Information office closed; found a hotel - closed until 5.30pm; another - closed until 6.30pm. Did not improve our impression of Lorient, which we found as not very attractive, despite being a harbour town. Fortunately the window of the Information office contained the name and phone number for a B&B where we were able to book in. Downstairs in a couple of rooms in a family house. Very comfortable and run by a very pleasant woman.
Walked the couple of kms into town for dinner and home again. Watched Spain defeat Germany in the World Cup Tournament and Venus Williams playing tennis before hitting the sack.
After a restless night, enjoyed a very wholesome breakfast to ready us for the road. Longer ride today, so wanted to be away reasonably early. Loaded the bikes out the front, to the amusement of some Italians touring on motor bikes, and went to pay the bill. Bank card wouldn't work. Off the an ATM - same result; tried another ATM with same result. Tried to ring the bank's emergency number to be told that they were closed until Monday. It was Sunday, of course, when these sort of things always happen. Rang another number for lost and stolen cards, this time actually getting to speak to a real person, who was very helpful. Could tell me that my card had been blocked because I hadn't made a payment -eventually realised that I hadn't changed my SMS security service number from my mobile to daughter Megan who was paying all our bills while we are away. Fortunately the emergency girl was able to re-activate our account, so that when I got back to the hotel our card was thankfully working again.
On the road at 10.30 for a 3 km steady and sometimes serious climb out of town. Despite the rolling terrain, we had some good downhill sections on this ride. At the only serious down and up shown on the map, we decided to stop at the bottom at a lake to have our banana sandwich lunch, and continued on, arriving in Lorient at around 2.30pm. Information office closed; found a hotel - closed until 5.30pm; another - closed until 6.30pm. Did not improve our impression of Lorient, which we found as not very attractive, despite being a harbour town. Fortunately the window of the Information office contained the name and phone number for a B&B where we were able to book in. Downstairs in a couple of rooms in a family house. Very comfortable and run by a very pleasant woman.
Walked the couple of kms into town for dinner and home again. Watched Spain defeat Germany in the World Cup Tournament and Venus Williams playing tennis before hitting the sack.
June 26 Scaer to Pont Aven 29 kms
Our map showed that the last section of the rail trail - 13 km to the town of Rosporden - was under construction. Fortunately our information was out of date and the trail was in quite good condition. As I had been predicting for several days, the trail did go downhill, although there were 3 kms of uphill first, but then it was a breeze and most enjoyable. From Rosporden we had to return to the road for 16 km, the first time that we had been on roads for quite a few days. The fact that most of the way was down compensated for both the few hills and also the traffic. We arrived in Pont Aven down a long, steep hill (me thinking 'we've got to get out of here in a day or two') into a very pretty riverside village and booked into a lovely hotel where our room overlooked the river harbour and the opposite hills. Very relaxing and refreshing. Decided to stay for three nights to relax and have a good look around the town.
Gaugin and his school of artists put Pont Aven on the map last century, and today there are around 46 artists with galleries in town - all styles, including those copying the styles and works o.f Gaugin and others. Sue found a gallery that had some beautiful sculptures of horses and bears - flowing easy lines - costing 15000 Euros plus.
When we asked to lady who runs the hotel for directions to a laundromat, she said she would wash our clothes for us - very kind and unexpected touch.
Dined at the next door creperie.
June 27 Pont Aven
After a bit of a slow start we visited the Museum to see an exhibition of the work of an artist called Signac, who painted in the area in the first half of the 19thC.
Had a light lunch at a small cafe in town and then Iain decided to rest and read while Sue headed off to explore the area. Her meanderings took her out of town and into the countryside and she was soon quite lost. Met a man and asked for her location on the map she had. He seemed to indicate that she should keep going the way she was to reach town. After walking for some time with no sign of Pont Aven she met another man who told her to go back the way she had come and turn left twice. Following his instuctions she did find herself back in town and the first person she met was this man. The second person she met was the first man she had asked for directions!
Had our worst meal of the trip at a local hotel restaurant.
June 28 Pont Aven
Raining this morning when we woke, but cleared during the morning. On checking our emails learnt that the 20 year old youngest son of one of our close friends had died last week. Had dinner, sat in chair and went to sleep and didn't wake up. Devastating news. Phoned our friend, but are really feeling the distance between us. Wandered around somewhat shell-shocked for the rest of the day.
Our map showed that the last section of the rail trail - 13 km to the town of Rosporden - was under construction. Fortunately our information was out of date and the trail was in quite good condition. As I had been predicting for several days, the trail did go downhill, although there were 3 kms of uphill first, but then it was a breeze and most enjoyable. From Rosporden we had to return to the road for 16 km, the first time that we had been on roads for quite a few days. The fact that most of the way was down compensated for both the few hills and also the traffic. We arrived in Pont Aven down a long, steep hill (me thinking 'we've got to get out of here in a day or two') into a very pretty riverside village and booked into a lovely hotel where our room overlooked the river harbour and the opposite hills. Very relaxing and refreshing. Decided to stay for three nights to relax and have a good look around the town.
Gaugin and his school of artists put Pont Aven on the map last century, and today there are around 46 artists with galleries in town - all styles, including those copying the styles and works o.f Gaugin and others. Sue found a gallery that had some beautiful sculptures of horses and bears - flowing easy lines - costing 15000 Euros plus.
When we asked to lady who runs the hotel for directions to a laundromat, she said she would wash our clothes for us - very kind and unexpected touch.
Dined at the next door creperie.
June 27 Pont Aven
After a bit of a slow start we visited the Museum to see an exhibition of the work of an artist called Signac, who painted in the area in the first half of the 19thC.
Had a light lunch at a small cafe in town and then Iain decided to rest and read while Sue headed off to explore the area. Her meanderings took her out of town and into the countryside and she was soon quite lost. Met a man and asked for her location on the map she had. He seemed to indicate that she should keep going the way she was to reach town. After walking for some time with no sign of Pont Aven she met another man who told her to go back the way she had come and turn left twice. Following his instuctions she did find herself back in town and the first person she met was this man. The second person she met was the first man she had asked for directions!
Had our worst meal of the trip at a local hotel restaurant.
June 28 Pont Aven
Raining this morning when we woke, but cleared during the morning. On checking our emails learnt that the 20 year old youngest son of one of our close friends had died last week. Had dinner, sat in chair and went to sleep and didn't wake up. Devastating news. Phoned our friend, but are really feeling the distance between us. Wandered around somewhat shell-shocked for the rest of the day.
June 24 Carhaix Plougher to Scaer 39 km
The road from town was downhill. At last we had an easy start to the day! Our celebrations were premature, as we soon encountered a couple of serious hills before arriving at the start of the trail. Then the trail kept the theme going for most of the ride. 20 km into the ride we stopped in the little village of Gourin and had a hot chocolate at the Boomerang Bar. Name seemed to be accidental, as the bartender didn't know anything about boomerangs and Australia. When his wife arrived she greeted everyone in the bar - a kiss for those she knew and a handshake for us.
After another 10 km of uphill we stopped by the side of the trail for our lunch of yoghurt and banana. Uphill for another few kms before the track levelled out and then actually descended in the township of Scaer or should I say to the road into the township - which of course was uphill. I tried a caravan camping ground at the bottom of the hill but found no one home but a note saying pitch your tent or park your caravan and we will settle the formalities later. We had no tent so the only option was head off up the hill. Information office closed.
Unfortunately, the accommodation book we had been given did not show any accommodation in town. I rang one of the B&B's listed to be told that they were 4 kms out of town in the wrong direction for us. I booked us in, then we looked for some food before tackling the undulating trip. Sue asked the lady if there were any B&B's in town to be told yes, just at the top of the hill. Relieved we went to the place which was in a beautiful garden setting. I cancelled the other B&B. and we settled in to the most extraordinary room with fake roman columns at the end of the bed. Bedside lamps and a couple of sculptures were glued to the bedside tables and stands. Despite the eclectic selection of decor, the room was spacious, and very clean.
Madame spoke no English, but her sister came and told us in French that we could use the kitchen area of the dining room to make ourselves some dinner. Off to the supermarket and home with cold chicken, tomatoes, capsicum and cheese, as well as chocolate mousse and a bottle of cider brut. Sue only had one glass of the cider. I finished the rest of the litre bottle and knew about it that night. Developed something of a head-ache.
Pleasant end to another hard day, so it was off to bed for a good night's rest. Again debated about staying another day for recuperation, but decided against it as we didn't want to limit the time we had at Port Aven or have to cut the trip short in order to meet Cam in Bilbao.
The road from town was downhill. At last we had an easy start to the day! Our celebrations were premature, as we soon encountered a couple of serious hills before arriving at the start of the trail. Then the trail kept the theme going for most of the ride. 20 km into the ride we stopped in the little village of Gourin and had a hot chocolate at the Boomerang Bar. Name seemed to be accidental, as the bartender didn't know anything about boomerangs and Australia. When his wife arrived she greeted everyone in the bar - a kiss for those she knew and a handshake for us.
After another 10 km of uphill we stopped by the side of the trail for our lunch of yoghurt and banana. Uphill for another few kms before the track levelled out and then actually descended in the township of Scaer or should I say to the road into the township - which of course was uphill. I tried a caravan camping ground at the bottom of the hill but found no one home but a note saying pitch your tent or park your caravan and we will settle the formalities later. We had no tent so the only option was head off up the hill. Information office closed.
Unfortunately, the accommodation book we had been given did not show any accommodation in town. I rang one of the B&B's listed to be told that they were 4 kms out of town in the wrong direction for us. I booked us in, then we looked for some food before tackling the undulating trip. Sue asked the lady if there were any B&B's in town to be told yes, just at the top of the hill. Relieved we went to the place which was in a beautiful garden setting. I cancelled the other B&B. and we settled in to the most extraordinary room with fake roman columns at the end of the bed. Bedside lamps and a couple of sculptures were glued to the bedside tables and stands. Despite the eclectic selection of decor, the room was spacious, and very clean.
Madame spoke no English, but her sister came and told us in French that we could use the kitchen area of the dining room to make ourselves some dinner. Off to the supermarket and home with cold chicken, tomatoes, capsicum and cheese, as well as chocolate mousse and a bottle of cider brut. Sue only had one glass of the cider. I finished the rest of the litre bottle and knew about it that night. Developed something of a head-ache.
Pleasant end to another hard day, so it was off to bed for a good night's rest. Again debated about staying another day for recuperation, but decided against it as we didn't want to limit the time we had at Port Aven or have to cut the trip short in order to meet Cam in Bilbao.
Friday, July 18, 2008
June 24 Gouarec to Carhaix-Plougher 45 km
It would have been good to stop another day at this peaceful park, but we were running out of spare days if we are going to complete our planned journey to Vannes and on to meet Cam in Bilbao in early July. Walked down to the Boulangerie to buy some pastries and take them into the bar to have with some delicious hot chocolate.
We headed out of town and uphill to the rail trail, as we had been advised to take the rail trail to Rostren to visit the market and then take the canal path for the rest of the way. The rail trail was very undulating. Mark and Anne, the South African pastors, caught up to us, just as we passed a brightly coloured snake on the trail. Sunning itself and not threatening at all. Rode into town with them, with Mark showing us the way to exit town and find the canal path. Had a relaxing coffee with them beside the market. Talked with an English trio, probably in their 70's - woman and two men, who have pooled their pensions to buy a place in Rostrenen. In winter they rent a house in Portugal. She was pushing a pram containing two pekinese dogs. Real characters - could have chosen to stay in England and end up in a nursing home waiting for the kids to work out a way to get their money, so they decided to get up and go. The woman had just had a knee replacement and was using the pram instead of a walking frame. They and the other English people we met, including the fast food woman and her young teenage family, all lamented the decline in quality of life in England, the increasing violence and lack of respect. The French children are certainly polite and courteous, as were the fast food children.
Riding out of town it was up and down some steep hills as we headed for the canal path. Much further than I anticipated but we kept heading downwards as we figured that would be where the canal would be - eventually proving this theory correct.
The canal path was quite pretty, but proved a much longer route than anticipated, and much harder to follow on the map. I eventually found some people I could ask for reassurance that we were on the right path. Towards the end there were some wet and sloppy parts and others more rocky. I was relieved to reach the town of Carhaix-Plougher, even if it required negotiating several more hills an traffic on the 4 km ride into town.
I left Sue while I headed off following signs to the Tourist Information office. Eventually found it
and was surprised to see Sue walking towards me - I had followed signs right around the block to find the Tourist office at the point from which I started the search. They have just moved and were awaiting new street signage! This frustration at the end of the day was compensated for by a very helpful woman who gave me a lot of information about the trail ahead, as well as other riding options, as well as advice as to hotels. Booked in to the nearest hotel, bikes stored in the manager/barman/dogsbod's office, while we carried our bags up the narrow staircase to the second floor.
It would have been good to stop another day at this peaceful park, but we were running out of spare days if we are going to complete our planned journey to Vannes and on to meet Cam in Bilbao in early July. Walked down to the Boulangerie to buy some pastries and take them into the bar to have with some delicious hot chocolate.
We headed out of town and uphill to the rail trail, as we had been advised to take the rail trail to Rostren to visit the market and then take the canal path for the rest of the way. The rail trail was very undulating. Mark and Anne, the South African pastors, caught up to us, just as we passed a brightly coloured snake on the trail. Sunning itself and not threatening at all. Rode into town with them, with Mark showing us the way to exit town and find the canal path. Had a relaxing coffee with them beside the market. Talked with an English trio, probably in their 70's - woman and two men, who have pooled their pensions to buy a place in Rostrenen. In winter they rent a house in Portugal. She was pushing a pram containing two pekinese dogs. Real characters - could have chosen to stay in England and end up in a nursing home waiting for the kids to work out a way to get their money, so they decided to get up and go. The woman had just had a knee replacement and was using the pram instead of a walking frame. They and the other English people we met, including the fast food woman and her young teenage family, all lamented the decline in quality of life in England, the increasing violence and lack of respect. The French children are certainly polite and courteous, as were the fast food children.
Riding out of town it was up and down some steep hills as we headed for the canal path. Much further than I anticipated but we kept heading downwards as we figured that would be where the canal would be - eventually proving this theory correct.
The canal path was quite pretty, but proved a much longer route than anticipated, and much harder to follow on the map. I eventually found some people I could ask for reassurance that we were on the right path. Towards the end there were some wet and sloppy parts and others more rocky. I was relieved to reach the town of Carhaix-Plougher, even if it required negotiating several more hills an traffic on the 4 km ride into town.
I left Sue while I headed off following signs to the Tourist Information office. Eventually found it
and was surprised to see Sue walking towards me - I had followed signs right around the block to find the Tourist office at the point from which I started the search. They have just moved and were awaiting new street signage! This frustration at the end of the day was compensated for by a very helpful woman who gave me a lot of information about the trail ahead, as well as other riding options, as well as advice as to hotels. Booked in to the nearest hotel, bikes stored in the manager/barman/dogsbod's office, while we carried our bags up the narrow staircase to the second floor.
June 23 Loudeac to Gouarec 44 km
Fine weather and some beautiful views over the surrounding countryside as we gradually climbed higher. Crops, hedges, farm houses and buildings, hills and valleys, viewed from a quiet shady trail. Called in to the town of Mer de Bretagne for a coffee at a small bar. It doesn't seem to matter how early we go into these small bars, there are always a few older local men sitting on stools having a drink - mostly wine or beer, but sometimes a short black. Then in to a large supermarket to stock up on all sorts of goodies for the trail.
Back on the trail we met a young french couple on a tandem reading their map. They were riding from Brest to Nantes along a canal path, from which they had to make a short diversion. They told us that soon we would have the option of rail trail or canal path to Carhaix Plougher, which is the end of this trail.
Further up the trail, well into horse country, and we found a seat where we stopped to have lunch - another banana placed carefully into a baguette and sprinkled with sugar. The seat was fortuitous, as I noticed that a pin in the rear suspension of Sue's bike had started to come out. My trusty mini-tool and a rock soon rectified the matter and we were on our way.
A diversion occurred in the rail trail, taking us down to a gorgeous stop called Bon Repos. Had coffee at a small cafe overlooking a river and the ancient Abbaye de Bon-Repos, built in 1184.
From here we followed a very pretty canal path - shared with walkers, other cyclists, canoeists on the canal, water lilies along the banks - all this and sunshine.
5 km and we arrived in Gouarec and found the station hostel, but no one around. When we found people they weren't very helpful. A woman arrived and went into the station - but looked particularly unfriendly. After a while we went in to be met with a torrent of unpleasantness. She had lost money because of us and wasn't prepared to give us a bed tonight. As the book we had did not mention any other accommodation in the town (the only hotel had closed) this was a cause for concern until she told us to go down to the caravan park and see 'David'. We did and found a very helpful Englishman who rented us a caravan. We had our silk sleeping bag sheets with us so he said he would help out with blankets, even though they didn't usually supply linen.
Tonight a fast food van was going to trial visits to the park for the summer period, so we thought that we would support them - an English woman who is trying to educate the French to the delights of English fast food!
After dinner had a chat with David, his wife and some other park residents, including a couple who are Assemblies of God pastors in England. Also met another very pleasant English couple who regularly travel around France in their motor home. Exchanged email addresses with them and retired for a very good sleep in the quiet of the park, which was on an island in the middle of the canal/river.
Fine weather and some beautiful views over the surrounding countryside as we gradually climbed higher. Crops, hedges, farm houses and buildings, hills and valleys, viewed from a quiet shady trail. Called in to the town of Mer de Bretagne for a coffee at a small bar. It doesn't seem to matter how early we go into these small bars, there are always a few older local men sitting on stools having a drink - mostly wine or beer, but sometimes a short black. Then in to a large supermarket to stock up on all sorts of goodies for the trail.
Back on the trail we met a young french couple on a tandem reading their map. They were riding from Brest to Nantes along a canal path, from which they had to make a short diversion. They told us that soon we would have the option of rail trail or canal path to Carhaix Plougher, which is the end of this trail.
Further up the trail, well into horse country, and we found a seat where we stopped to have lunch - another banana placed carefully into a baguette and sprinkled with sugar. The seat was fortuitous, as I noticed that a pin in the rear suspension of Sue's bike had started to come out. My trusty mini-tool and a rock soon rectified the matter and we were on our way.
A diversion occurred in the rail trail, taking us down to a gorgeous stop called Bon Repos. Had coffee at a small cafe overlooking a river and the ancient Abbaye de Bon-Repos, built in 1184.
From here we followed a very pretty canal path - shared with walkers, other cyclists, canoeists on the canal, water lilies along the banks - all this and sunshine.
5 km and we arrived in Gouarec and found the station hostel, but no one around. When we found people they weren't very helpful. A woman arrived and went into the station - but looked particularly unfriendly. After a while we went in to be met with a torrent of unpleasantness. She had lost money because of us and wasn't prepared to give us a bed tonight. As the book we had did not mention any other accommodation in the town (the only hotel had closed) this was a cause for concern until she told us to go down to the caravan park and see 'David'. We did and found a very helpful Englishman who rented us a caravan. We had our silk sleeping bag sheets with us so he said he would help out with blankets, even though they didn't usually supply linen.
Tonight a fast food van was going to trial visits to the park for the summer period, so we thought that we would support them - an English woman who is trying to educate the French to the delights of English fast food!
After dinner had a chat with David, his wife and some other park residents, including a couple who are Assemblies of God pastors in England. Also met another very pleasant English couple who regularly travel around France in their motor home. Exchanged email addresses with them and retired for a very good sleep in the quiet of the park, which was on an island in the middle of the canal/river.
June 22 Loudeac
Not much to see around town. Everything was shut as it is Sunday. Rang the children and did the washing and generally relaxed.
In the evening we struggled to find any restaurants open, eventually coming upon a creperie where we had an enjoyable meal.
We had booked in to a hostel in the closed railway station at our next stop of Goureac, so this morning had to phone and leave a message that Sue was not well so we would not be arriving until Monday.
Not much to see around town. Everything was shut as it is Sunday. Rang the children and did the washing and generally relaxed.
In the evening we struggled to find any restaurants open, eventually coming upon a creperie where we had an enjoyable meal.
We had booked in to a hostel in the closed railway station at our next stop of Goureac, so this morning had to phone and leave a message that Sue was not well so we would not be arriving until Monday.
June 21 St Meen le Grand to Loudeac 54 km
This was the start of around 200 km of rail trail. It is very pleasant being able to ride side by side and enjoy the countryside without worrying about traffic. Although there were no steep inclines, about half of today's ride was uphill, and Sue was very weary when we arrived in the very unattractive industrial town of Loudeac. Information centre closed, so we booked in to the most attractive hotel, Les Voyageurs. Showered and walked around the town, but not much to see.
Despite this, we decided to stay an extra day to give Sue's body a chance to recover - a change of seat angle wasn't a very smart move, even for a reasonable short time.
This was the start of around 200 km of rail trail. It is very pleasant being able to ride side by side and enjoy the countryside without worrying about traffic. Although there were no steep inclines, about half of today's ride was uphill, and Sue was very weary when we arrived in the very unattractive industrial town of Loudeac. Information centre closed, so we booked in to the most attractive hotel, Les Voyageurs. Showered and walked around the town, but not much to see.
Despite this, we decided to stay an extra day to give Sue's body a chance to recover - a change of seat angle wasn't a very smart move, even for a reasonable short time.
June 20 Dinan to St Meen le Grand 52 km
Helpful young woman at the information centre in Dinan gave us a brochure of the Route Verte - rail trails in the region, so we are heading off-road today. Headed under the town wall on the cobbled road and lost the map. At the bottom of the steep hill I also lost the way. Went in to a bar for assistance to be met by a very frosty reception and no help. A more helpful man pointed us in the right direction, into the beautiful, picture book township of Lehon. Would have liked to have a better look around the town, but the trail beckoned - if only I could find the start. Asked a fellow working in his garden, who called his daughter to assist, as she could speak English better than I could obviously speak French. Actually, I think that father was just wanting to show us how clever his daughter is - she had been in Sydney for 6 months working as an au pair. Nice girl who walked us to the start of the trail.
Easy riding alongside the river for about 8 kms which was followed by about 3 kms of country road, much of it uphill, to the small town of Trevron, where we located the rail trail. The trail was shady and pleasant, but Sue's legs were having a holiday today. Around 1 pm we headed off the trail into a small township called Plouasne, which seemed somewhat depressed. Had a coffee at a small, unusually unclean bar attached to a bakery. As we were having our coffee, the owner came over and presented us with 4 small pastries as a gift.
Another 4 km and the rail trail ended so it was back on to the road for the last kms into St Grand where we booked in to Les Trois Pliers, in the centre of town, which was very basic - furnished cheaply, the carpet doesn't fit, the bathroom is huge but the bath has no plug. However he beds are clean and the shower was good, and the hotelier is very pleasant.
Our walk around the street revealed lots of houses of dark stone in a mixture of styles, and a strange little war memorial church filled with memorial stones of the fallen.
The town hall was an amazing building, like a wedding cake, with towers, spires, chimneys.
Helpful young woman at the information centre in Dinan gave us a brochure of the Route Verte - rail trails in the region, so we are heading off-road today. Headed under the town wall on the cobbled road and lost the map. At the bottom of the steep hill I also lost the way. Went in to a bar for assistance to be met by a very frosty reception and no help. A more helpful man pointed us in the right direction, into the beautiful, picture book township of Lehon. Would have liked to have a better look around the town, but the trail beckoned - if only I could find the start. Asked a fellow working in his garden, who called his daughter to assist, as she could speak English better than I could obviously speak French. Actually, I think that father was just wanting to show us how clever his daughter is - she had been in Sydney for 6 months working as an au pair. Nice girl who walked us to the start of the trail.
Easy riding alongside the river for about 8 kms which was followed by about 3 kms of country road, much of it uphill, to the small town of Trevron, where we located the rail trail. The trail was shady and pleasant, but Sue's legs were having a holiday today. Around 1 pm we headed off the trail into a small township called Plouasne, which seemed somewhat depressed. Had a coffee at a small, unusually unclean bar attached to a bakery. As we were having our coffee, the owner came over and presented us with 4 small pastries as a gift.
Another 4 km and the rail trail ended so it was back on to the road for the last kms into St Grand where we booked in to Les Trois Pliers, in the centre of town, which was very basic - furnished cheaply, the carpet doesn't fit, the bathroom is huge but the bath has no plug. However he beds are clean and the shower was good, and the hotelier is very pleasant.
Our walk around the street revealed lots of houses of dark stone in a mixture of styles, and a strange little war memorial church filled with memorial stones of the fallen.
The town hall was an amazing building, like a wedding cake, with towers, spires, chimneys.
June 19 Dinan
It's amazing - another rest day - another wet day.
Market day today, so we walked through on our way to look for a laundromat, which we found and used. Bought a sausage in a galette in the market for lunch and some bananas for tomorrow's travels.
Went to the Castle Museum which was part of the remaining town ramparts. Saw an exhibition of Marc Gousse and admired the wooden sculptures and a carved diptych which told the story of the beheading of some 15thC saint in graphic detail. Also saw a small carving of ivory of an angel with its foot on a skull.
Wandered around looking for the way onto the old town wall, but there is only a small section you can actually walk on. Found a printmaker's shop and Sue had a long chat with his wife who spoke quite good English.
We also went for a walk down the narrow winding cobbled street with its quaint old houses and shops to the port of Dinan on the Rance River we had followed to town .
Tried whelks and winkles for dinner, but wouldn't bother again as the little bleeders are very hard to find and extract from their tiny shells. As last night, before dinner we were given a small salmon tart, and after the meal a small glass of calvados and some tiny fruit tarts. A nice touch.
It's amazing - another rest day - another wet day.
Market day today, so we walked through on our way to look for a laundromat, which we found and used. Bought a sausage in a galette in the market for lunch and some bananas for tomorrow's travels.
Went to the Castle Museum which was part of the remaining town ramparts. Saw an exhibition of Marc Gousse and admired the wooden sculptures and a carved diptych which told the story of the beheading of some 15thC saint in graphic detail. Also saw a small carving of ivory of an angel with its foot on a skull.
Wandered around looking for the way onto the old town wall, but there is only a small section you can actually walk on. Found a printmaker's shop and Sue had a long chat with his wife who spoke quite good English.
We also went for a walk down the narrow winding cobbled street with its quaint old houses and shops to the port of Dinan on the Rance River we had followed to town .
Tried whelks and winkles for dinner, but wouldn't bother again as the little bleeders are very hard to find and extract from their tiny shells. As last night, before dinner we were given a small salmon tart, and after the meal a small glass of calvados and some tiny fruit tarts. A nice touch.
June 18 St Malo to Dinan 32 km
On the way out of St Malo we had to negotiate the main road across the mouth of the Rance River. The road goes across the wall of a dam with turbines which generate electricity using the sea tides. Traffic very heavy. On the other side a tractor with trailer somehow managed to graze Sue's front pannier. Fortunately she was able to land on her feet, but she was badly shaken. We still had about 2 km on this road and then had to cross 2 lanes of traffic to turn onto a quieter road to Dinan. Soon after the turn-off we stopped in a small town to enable Sue to regain her composure and to have a coffee.
The road today was again undulating to hilly, but the scenery was pretty as we followed the river valley down (?) to Dinan.
Dinan is one of, if not the, oldest walled cities in Brittany. we booked in to La Duchesse Anne, given a room in the new wing which was built in 1762!
Our walk around town took us through narrow streets with very old houses which go at all angles, quite a few a long way off vertical, but still standing firm. Saint Sauveur's Basilica is a very old and ornate building, whilst the St Malo's Church has stunning stained glass windows.
Staying in Dinan for a rest day tomorrow and have a better look around at this old town.
On the way out of St Malo we had to negotiate the main road across the mouth of the Rance River. The road goes across the wall of a dam with turbines which generate electricity using the sea tides. Traffic very heavy. On the other side a tractor with trailer somehow managed to graze Sue's front pannier. Fortunately she was able to land on her feet, but she was badly shaken. We still had about 2 km on this road and then had to cross 2 lanes of traffic to turn onto a quieter road to Dinan. Soon after the turn-off we stopped in a small town to enable Sue to regain her composure and to have a coffee.
The road today was again undulating to hilly, but the scenery was pretty as we followed the river valley down (?) to Dinan.
Dinan is one of, if not the, oldest walled cities in Brittany. we booked in to La Duchesse Anne, given a room in the new wing which was built in 1762!
Our walk around town took us through narrow streets with very old houses which go at all angles, quite a few a long way off vertical, but still standing firm. Saint Sauveur's Basilica is a very old and ornate building, whilst the St Malo's Church has stunning stained glass windows.
Staying in Dinan for a rest day tomorrow and have a better look around at this old town.
June 17 Cancale to St Malo 26 km
Arose to a huge breakast prepared by Fabian - juice, yoghurts, cakes, croissants, a heavy custard cake with prunes, bread, home-made jams, and tea.
Another beautiful day. On the way of town we rode around to Pointe de Grouin, which gave spectacular views along the coastline and over some small rocky islands which are rookeries for some of the local sea birds.
Road is undulating but with a number of short but sharp rises. Just before St Malo we detoured at Rotheneuf to see the Rochers Sculptures, carved in the rock rising from the sea by a disfigured deaf mute monk over a period of 25 years from 1870. Interesting.
Then in to St Malo to our hotel just inside the walls of the old city. After freshening up we walked around the walled city and around the ramparts, looking down on the beaches, bay and docks - housing many large yachts as well as being the stop for ferries.
Next stop was Dinan so asked for accommodation details at the information office. Selected a hotel and booked by phone. During the evening I noticed that I had information for Dinard, just across the harbour, necessitating another phone call to cancel the bookings.
Arose to a huge breakast prepared by Fabian - juice, yoghurts, cakes, croissants, a heavy custard cake with prunes, bread, home-made jams, and tea.
Another beautiful day. On the way of town we rode around to Pointe de Grouin, which gave spectacular views along the coastline and over some small rocky islands which are rookeries for some of the local sea birds.
Road is undulating but with a number of short but sharp rises. Just before St Malo we detoured at Rotheneuf to see the Rochers Sculptures, carved in the rock rising from the sea by a disfigured deaf mute monk over a period of 25 years from 1870. Interesting.
Then in to St Malo to our hotel just inside the walls of the old city. After freshening up we walked around the walled city and around the ramparts, looking down on the beaches, bay and docks - housing many large yachts as well as being the stop for ferries.
Next stop was Dinan so asked for accommodation details at the information office. Selected a hotel and booked by phone. During the evening I noticed that I had information for Dinard, just across the harbour, necessitating another phone call to cancel the bookings.
June 16 Mont St Michel to Cancale 49 km
Soon after leaving Mont St Michel we crossed the border from Normandy into Brittany. It was a beautiful sunny day, little wind, and apart from the last 4 or 5 km, flat. We passed or were passed by a number of fishing 'ducks' - fishing boats on wheels which drove straight into the water. All with cranes to load their catch of fish or mussels. Mussel and oyster farms are evident all along this coastline.
Had to climb a few hills before dropping down into the beautiful fishing and holiday village of Cancale. Had a meal of mussels at an outdoor cafe on the bay. This is what life is all about! The street along the harbour is lined with restaurants and hotels.
Through the bikes we met a Dutch couple who spoke good English. Frieda had lived for 8 years in NZ and 3 in Australia as a child, so she had quite an interesting accent. Exchanged email addresses. They may be coming to NZ next year and will consider visiting on the way home.
We chose to stay at a B&B about 2.5 km out of town. Downside was that we had to climb the steep hill up to the township. Great B&B in a converted farm building. Hostess Fabian was very welcoming.
After a good rest, we rode the unloaded bikes back down to the harbour for dinner, which included our now regular bottle of local cider.
Soon after leaving Mont St Michel we crossed the border from Normandy into Brittany. It was a beautiful sunny day, little wind, and apart from the last 4 or 5 km, flat. We passed or were passed by a number of fishing 'ducks' - fishing boats on wheels which drove straight into the water. All with cranes to load their catch of fish or mussels. Mussel and oyster farms are evident all along this coastline.
Had to climb a few hills before dropping down into the beautiful fishing and holiday village of Cancale. Had a meal of mussels at an outdoor cafe on the bay. This is what life is all about! The street along the harbour is lined with restaurants and hotels.
Through the bikes we met a Dutch couple who spoke good English. Frieda had lived for 8 years in NZ and 3 in Australia as a child, so she had quite an interesting accent. Exchanged email addresses. They may be coming to NZ next year and will consider visiting on the way home.
We chose to stay at a B&B about 2.5 km out of town. Downside was that we had to climb the steep hill up to the township. Great B&B in a converted farm building. Hostess Fabian was very welcoming.
After a good rest, we rode the unloaded bikes back down to the harbour for dinner, which included our now regular bottle of local cider.
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