Category: Cycle Across Europe

Join the adventure of cycling across Europe from the UK to Lisbon, traveling through the Netherlands, Belgium, Switzerland, France, and Spain. This post features personal stories, beautiful photos, and highlights from the diverse landscapes and cultures experienced along the route.

The Lisbon Six

Posted on by Ryan

From Segovia to Lisbon we had the option of a 7 or 6 day ride, we opted for the bigger mileage 6 day ride to give us extra time in Lisbon to sort out bikes and other stuff for flying to the US. Another wild camp on the cards as there were no accommodation options as we continued on the plateau amid the mountains we had been riding for a couple of days. I’ve been getting lazy with taking pictures so bug me and I will pick the effort up. We passed through the town of Avila which had a city wall to match Segovia (no pictures) and continued on to an unknown destination. When it got to 9pm and our surroundings were still corn farm fields I began to get a little concerned over finding a prime quiet spot away from the road. A few miles later the trees started picking up, we stopped midway up a hill to check out an area behind some bushes which had some old flattened tracks, turned out to be the local tipping ground. We settled on a thistle riddled patch of grass just of a layby, barely out of traffic view but it was getting late and we would leave early. Always remember to check the ground isn’t moving when trodding through this kind of bush, don’t want to step on any snakes like some of the flattened ones we have been seeing.


Ate breakfast and brushed teeth by the roadside like a pair of bums and breezed along happily to Fleet Foxes. A glorious morning, the kind that reminds me how lucky I am. When your stinking, hungry knowing you have 70+ miles to ride again somedays it can be hard to ‘saviour the moment’. So much happens everyday, long days outside with your eyes taking a million pictures and brain thinking about where the next rest, accommodation, food and drink (all kinds) is coming from, whether that squeek on your bike is going to lead to something serious, lots of uncertainties. Its often the case you don’t appreciate something until its over, so its nice when you do get that happiest feeling of where you are and what your doing that it puts me in a great mood all day and I can just enjoy the ride.

This day was made even better when we met Javier, a local who is an accomplished bicycle tourer, loaded and unloaded he now runs rides for http://www.ibericactc.com. He joined and chatted with us all the way up a climb, took us to a water fountain in a small town to fill our bottles up with the delicious cold water from the surrounding glacial lakes. On the other side of the pass he pulled us over to some cherry trees, the areas local economy, then stopped in a town after and epic descent and bought us some drinks. It was great to have a local guide like Javier, if it wasn’t so hot and he didn’t have to ride back up over the mountain I think he would have joined us all day. He gave us some good route advice which unfortunately we could only follow for a while to Caceres as we didn’t find many camping options online for the rest so ended up sticking to our original planned route. Thanks Javier, I will come back one day and see the rest of the route you told us to take.



It took them a while to pick up but Spanish campgrounds are great. Staying at mostly municipal ones that adjoin the public swimming pools, perfect for a post ride dip to cool off if not to actually swim. The Caceres one in particular was a highlight, each tent spot featured its own small building which housed a personal sink, shower, toilet. It even had table and chairs! Simple pleasures but we are used to sitting on our air mats outside on hardground as our poor tired thighs threaten to cramp up. I was accustomed to wooden benches on each plot whilst camping in the US but these chairs were the first we have had in the whole of Europe.


Since Segovia we have been on the 6 day countdown, something about getting towards the end of a section has triggered a natural reaction to speed up and ‘get there’. After crossing the final border to Portugal we had to deal with a few dog chases guarding the strange mix of orange and tobacco fields. In the town of Elvas we witnessed a local custom that we saw in France in which a post wedding parade consists of 20-30 cars doing laps around town beeping their horns, we road alongside and got big smiles and happy toots, a good place to be. The final approach to Lisbon wasn’t so good, our route would take us North and than descend south towards the city in a zigzag to avoid the major roads, it took us through mostly industrial estates and busy roads still but the end was in sight. 5 weeks since leaving home riding to the ferry then trekking from Belgium through Ardennes to France, into the Alps of Switzerland across the vineyards of southern France, over the Pyrenees towards the heat of Spain and finally beautiful Portugal.




So we are in Lisbon with days to spare, but those days were needed. We spent a full day and lots of walking trying to locate 2 cardboard bike boxes to package our steeds up and 2 big sports holdalls for our panniers. Lisbon is a nice city but we have had so much to do getting gear cleaned, sorted and ready for the USA section of the trip I haven’t taken any pictures, a wiki link will have to suffice http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lisbon. To Boston we go hopefully with a safe flight for luggage and bikes, I cannot believe I am going to be riding my bike across america AGAIN! 😀

 

Truck Stops And Hotel Hops

Posted on by Ryan

We maxed out the uber breakfast in Hotel Calatayud. After inhaling about 3 cups of coffee I also managed a bacon and egg sanga, bowl of cereal, pastries, water melon and more. Hotels for the next couple of nights too until Segovia still no camping options but they do pick up from there right through to Lisbon, we will probably try our hand at a few more wild camps before then.

From Calatayud we headed to Almazan, flatter terrain but Spain continues to surprise from hot rocks to woods. The smell of hot tree bark seeping from the dried out forests lining the roads is an odd favourite of mine, it reminds me of Idaho. The next day to Villarejo was started early as we had a 77 mile ride to make our booking at the Mira sierra and more importantly the England – Italy game on the evening which I won’t dwell on.

The following 35 mile ride to Segovia was a breeze, we nailed it in about 2 hours 30. We only made 2 brief pitstops at our beloved Repsol petrol stations. Not exactly glamorous but they are our absolute lifeline, we would struggle to complete some days without them. Particularly the past few days when towns have had nothing we rely on petrol stations to restock water and get our sugar kicks. They usually have a vending machine out front too which is great for getting rid of change. In the supermircados its not always easy to understand how much a shop has cost when the assistant speaks fast and there is no screen. So I normally play it safe with a note, like on a night out in a loud bar, which usually means finishing up with a pocket full of shrapnel.

The day off in Segovia was much overdue, it was actually the first day since starting I didn’t look, sit or ride on the bike. Its a pretty place, a world heritage site in fact, with incredible historic landmarks littered on every corner. Definitely the type of place to take a girl rather than the guys, but me and Eal will enjoy a few beers. For some reason almost every tourist in Segovia was American, mostly young teenagers. I think an entire state must have funded all schools in its counties to take a trip to Spain, you can reach Madrid via a high speed rail line in 30 minutes.

We’ll enjoy the comforts tonight, another wild camp followed by 5 campgrounds until we reach Lisbon, getting close.

¡Viva España!

Posted on by Ryan

We miss our French pastry breakfast, Spanish breakfast is coffee and a bread roll with jam, unless you can score a Spanish omelette, then your cooking. The trusty road we had been following all day directed us towards a tunnel which passes through a mountain, Tunel De Berga. The tunnel was dark, there was no shoulder or indication of how long it was and cars were cruising through at 70. It would take us to Berga, but was it worth the risk? The other option was riding around and up into the mountains probably a 2 hour detour. After much umming and arghing we psyched each other up, donned hi-viz jackets and lights, waited for a break in traffic and raced into the tunnel. We road hard and fast for about a minute until the light appeared at the end of the tunnel, relief. Remember to take chances sometimes.

It turns out the only rain in Spain is not just on the plane as we had a light sprinkling which soon gave way to sunshine which is now forcast to last for the next week at around 100 degrees, no weather worries. Spanish scenery is so unsettled, mountains give way to false plains which then roll back to mountains over each hill and around each bend. Sometimes one half of the road is lush green with trees whilst the other half can be baron and parched with mesas and red rock formations running along the roadside. I love the variation to look at from the saddle.

We arrived in Lerida hoping to pick up a campground within 10 miles only to find the closest was 50 miles away! After scouting around town without success looking for wifi to verify there was no camping we ended up finding a hotel, not such a bad deal in the end with breakfast included. The spanish economy being what it is at the moment everything has seemed pretty cheap, a can of beer for about 30p and decent hotel rooms for £15-20 each.

One thing we now know is that this part of Spain does not do camping. We have rode through fairly affluent areas all trip for the most part but leaving Lerida we passed by several sun bleached run down towns, no crops growing in the dried out fields and no shade from the sun, who would want to camp here? That pretty much explains it. It means for the next few days we will have to stay in hotels, for the night between Lerida and Calatayud however there was abosulutley nothing. We decided to ride until sunset, pull off the roadside and wild camp for the night. It must have been around mile 75 we thought it was time. We walked the bikes 2 minutes off-road into some trees and setup camp. I took a baby wipe shower (I can’t be the first?) and hit the sack. Best motto for wild camping is arrive late and leave early, you can’t be sure who’s land your on so thats what we’ll do.

The sound of trucks on the road woke me up, I kept having visions of a spanish farmer rolling down in his tractor with the dogs I could hear barking in the distance. I shouted eal, we packed up and left at about 5:30am, straight onto a climb out of the valley the first 30 minutes we got to take in a full sunrise, they never get old. A long hard slog in the mountains, hair still matted to my head from the night before. After multiple siestas we hit mile 85 as we arrived in Calatayud, the town camping was closed and looked liked it had been for sometime. Another hotel, classy joint too ah well we’ve earnt it!

 

France: A Tourist Guide

Posted on by

This post is brought to you by co-rider Eal Van Dyke.

Where to go

If you like identical towns and cows your best sticking to the north east of France. There are 10 times more cows than people in that region. Don’t get me wrong cows are good lads but after the 200th one you’ve seen, enough is enough.

South east of France is your winner. Very decent scenery in the form of the Alps and then wine country. The further you head south the more you see of Sammy sunshine absolutely no need for a rain coat.

Paris. We haven’t visited Paris but from what I have heard its suppose to be alright.

Food and Drink

Two things have stood out in this department bread and wine. The bread is top draw and we haven’t had a bad drop of the red stuff yet, this may been down to the fact we’re all ways hungry and after 8 hours in the saddle any liquor is a treat but I trust my palette enough to know good quality bread and wine.

I’m sure there’s better food out there but as most of our cooking is of the tinned sort those are my highlights.

Wildlife

We have seen a lot of lads that we don’t see back home but I don’t know any of their names so just keep your eyes open in France and you’ll see summit new.

We have also seen about 5 or 6 snakes. The majority have been dead but that’s 5 or 6 too many in my book. St Patrick needs hiring in to take care of the epidemic. There not needed so get rid of em.

Tips an tricks

The French are similar in the Irish in the sense they only work half days so just check in advance if you are wanting something in particular to be open. I’m not having a go, fair play to them, give them more time to practice their French bowls.

Toilets, its probably worth packing a toilet seat as the French aren’t keen on them and its a bit naughty having to use the bare basin. If you are traveling light a pack a wet wipes will do the job.

Overall thoughts

The French seem to have a bad rep back home. From my experiences this is totally incorrect, pretty much everyone has been super friendly and helpful. A lot of old boys try and have some crack its just a shame the only French words I know are the “please and thank” you sort. France, well worth a visit and long live the king.

Pyrenees Ahoy

Posted on by Ryan

It was always going to be a late start leaving Montpelier as we couldn’t pick the bikes up until 11am, nice to have a lazy morning for once anyway. We do still need to get to Lisbon for around July 3rd to sort out boxing the bikes for the flight to Boston on the 5th. It was a case of see how far we can ride before it gets too dark to find a campsite or we get too tired.

Eal’s bike was still skipping one gear and his left pedal had developed a squeak whilst the shop who had replaced my rear tyre forgot to replace the cap on the valve. Not big issues but pretty sloppy job from the friendly guys at the shop which had seemed really good. After about 70 miles we had gotten to Serignan not quite as far as we had hoped but there was camping by the beach and we resolved an early start tomorrow to make up a couple more miles. The camping direction signs kept highlighting the fact it was “Camping Naturiste”.

When we got to the front reception I saw a few old guys strolling around in speedos. Now everybody already knows that mainland Europe is yet to discover the “swimshort” but for some reason I had visions of us entering a nudist campground. This wasn’t helped when we navigated towards our plot for the evening and saw those same guys sun bathing in deck chairs. From a sitting point they looked naked, when one guy went to stand up I almost fell of my bike. It turned out to be a nice place, sort of like a Butlins in the sun, the evening was spent on the beach staring out at the Mediterranean.

New bar tape!

An uninspiring but direct day followed, we hopped on the N9 almost all day a primary road made suitable for riding by its proximity to a major highway which runs alongside it the whole way past Perpignan. Not pretty but direct, good to bag some miles quickly for a change.

We had seen the Pyrenees on the horizon for several days. Last time I had seen them was skiing in Andorra 2 years ago, slight difference in temperature this time. The border to Spain is at the top of Col d’Ares at around 5000 feet, I’ve cycled higher before, Hoosier Pass was 11,500 feet. Today however we would be starting almost from sea level, a mammoth task on a loaded bike.

It was sweltering hot. The sweat pouring from face into my eyes and dripping from my nose was causing me more problems than the actual climb. My chocolate bars had melted so I resorted to spooning them over my last bread for sandwiches. Midway up things started getting steep to the point at which your going so slowly clutching onto the handlebars that your defenselless against flies who have free range to buzz around your head and land where they please. Pulling round one bend there was a Col sign which seemed a little too soon to be the top, it was and we were actually only about 2/3rds up.

The final climb and the following descent into Spain left a smile across my face that just wouldn’t budge. Even on a long tour you only have a couple of days like this when there is a massive obstacle in the shape of a day long climb to overcome. When you reach the top still smiling, sun on your back with epic landscapes all around, they tend to go hand in hand with a mountain pass, that’s when you achieve the importance of feeling strong which I talked about. Buzzing.

I don’t really know what to expect from Spain, I’ve been to Portugal/Spain/Spanish Islands over a dozen times but always to the British tourist areas so inland Spain is a bit of a mystery to me, great start though.

Chasing The Sun

Posted on by Ryan

First day back on the road and it was the coldest yet, 15 C and raining. Thankfully Grenoble was the easiest place yet to navigate out from, in fact we would be on the D1075 right from downtown for 60 miles the whole day. After generally flat terrain the first half of the day continuing through the valley we had a mountain pass to contend with. The rock formations atop these mountains always seemed to be smothered in cloud and as we gained elevation we headed straight for them. Soon the cloud was flying across the road in front of us turning from tail to head wind around each bend.

Wet and shivering we had an unpleasant downhill on the other side with the wind chill almost freezing us. My toes and fingers were numb, after pulling in the first service station we could find I sank two coffees immediately then proceeded to put two extra layers under my jacket, new socks and my thermal leggings on. Warm as toast.

The sun had came out that evening, leaving the mountains and heading further south the forecast for the next 5 days and probably until Lisbon was reading clear skies and sunshine. The ride between La Faurie and Tulette was possibly the most beautiful I have ever been on, even Eals first flat tyre (1 a piece) couldn’t spoil the mood. Carving our way gradually downhill through canyons in top cog and coming out the other side in wine country. The last 15 or so miles I was surround on either side of the road by vineyards. We rolled up to the the campsite to find it was completely full but the small town of Tulette a few miles back had a municipal campsite with swimming pool, a really nicely kept place. The whole area is a few classes above the northern regions of France we passed through, money in those grapes.

Drinking a small bottle of wine and then riding past the very vineyard it came from the next morning is quite satisfying. More glorious weather we racked up the miles navigating through one small french town after another. I take care of the maps and the garmin and Eal is happy for me to navigate, but it also means im responsible for every climb we have and each wrong turn we make. Somedays I have to think heavily about the route we’re on and towns to included for rest/food/drink etc. I think the sun must have taken its toll on me today as towards the end of the ride and a tricky days navigation I managed to fall sideways on my bike still clipped in the left pedal whilst stopped in one of my less glorious moments, nobody saw though! The bikes are so heavy once they start going its hard to stop, slight graze on my upper thigh but no real harm done. Campsite La Bastide made me laugh and Eal spent the evening switching tyres. His puncture from yesterday was possibly the result of a worn looking rear tyre which we will need to get changed sharpish.

After assessing the next week or so riding into Spain it was clear bike shops would be very limited so today we decided to take a half day riding 30 miles to Montpellier, get the bikes checked in a shop for tune up and have more new tyres fitted. On route we had a great encounter with a local farmer who saw us checking our maps. He pulled up beside us on the hard shoulder and gave us directions. He thought we were German as he said “Auf Wierdersehen” but then paused and checked to find we were English, he said “Good One!” and rolled off chuckling.

After 3 nights camping since Grenoble we found a 2* hotel to stay at round the corner from the velo shop we had just taken the bikes too. Both agreed Montpelier is the nicest city visited so far we strolled round for a couple hours before returning with supplies to watched the England – Sweden game.

Only 2 days left until Spain, we are going to miss France. Back home a lot of people have jibes at the French… “The problem with France is its full of French” etc… but everyone we have met has been incredibly friendly. Whenever I’m chowing down a pastry on the side of the street every local that passes wishes me bon apptetit! Its a nice social gesture that you wouldn’t get back home whilst drilling a Greggs in. Likewise on an evening when entering a shop or bar I am going to miss being greeted with “Bonsoir Monsieur!” from a smiling french lady spotting me as an outsider in my chino shorts and check shirt from a mile off…

To Grenoble!

Posted on by Ryan

Roads lead to waypoints and although the Grenoble rest was tangible we still had a reasonble 50ish mile ride to get there. Cruising out of Aix Les Baines on a sunny sunday morning we used the Garmin to get us out of town, only to see the battery say it was low and then switch off altogether despite showing a full battery bar, the campsite plugs must have been on some funny voltage that has messed it up, I thought it was odd that a 30 minute charge had given it full battery. Back to paper maps we hopped on the correct road and enjoyed bike paths as good as Belgium all the way to Chambery a decent sized city. Once in downtown without a sat nav we had a trouble finding our way. The signage was poor and our navigation must have been even worse because we started seeing signs for Geneva when I thought we were heading the right way. We went round in circles for a good hour or two and ended up going for food and trying to figure out a passage out of this densley populated area which felt like a prison. The paper maps we have are good until you get to a place like this when the detail becomes to subtle to stay on the correct road, we are on bikes, its not like a car in which you can go direct for the motorway signs. The route has to be suitable for us to ride on.

Finally out we saw a sign for grenbole which read “45km” headphones in, Band of Horses on and what seemed like minutes later the signs we reading “18km”. The rain began to pour as we descended into the valley amgonst the enormously spectacular mountains that surround Grenoble. Getting into downtown we then had the problem of actually find the Hotel Royal we had booked without the Garmin. We were shivering wet using the last juice of battery on my ipod to hit googlemaps for hotel directions. 15 days straight riding without break with the hotel and promise of laundry and rest could have been across the street and we couldn’t have known. Alas we found it 750 metres from our standing point, the guy on reception hooked us up with bike storage downstairs and was very accomodating to what must have looked like 2 slightly sunburnt baggy eyed drowned rats.

I had taken a bath that night and took another this morning, human again. The rest day got off to a bad start though, the bikes stored downstairs were in complete darkness and we couldn’t find the light switch. I managed to knock my bike over and bent the left hood of my handlebars inwards, its rideable and works but hugely frustrating. Most Geneva bike shops were just city hire joints so after riding to the nearest place looking for a tune up we were annoyed to find the place did not open until the afternoon. France is pretty bad for that, hardly anything ever seems to be open even in a big city like this! Friday, Saturday and Sunday you can almost guarantee most places are closed, it seems they don’t really do Monday’s either as a camping store which we also need says its closed mondays. The rest of the week things only seem to be operating at about 75%. My beloved pattiserie’s are open on the mornings but by 11am as we pass through towns they have all closed, back home this used to be the case on Sundays, although now places are open every day of the year but here its pretty extreme.

We also needed a laundromat desperatly having packed dirty gear into a single pannier, searching gmaps thouroughly as we have in a few places it turns out France doesn’t really have them. We did pass what looked like a laundrette on a downhill yesterday but weren’t about to trek back. Detergent bought from the supermarket it was to be another bathtub job, surely not another bad rest day? We got back to the hotel, asked for the room key only for the french lady to explain the cleaner had broken the room lock and nobody could access chambre 15 for a couple hours until it was fixed. Bemused, she offered food from the restaurent but we had just eaten, about to stroll back into town we had an idea. I went back to reception fetched the detergent box and asked if she could stick our clothes in the hotel washing machines, she obliged, laundry covered! The day was turning in our favour, we strolled to the supermarket to pick up supplies for the big match later, England – France. We would be avoiding locals by watching the game from the comfort of our hotel room, C’mon England!

Supertramps And The Geneva CON-vention

Posted on by Ryan

Leaving Besancon we had to navigate around the city centre nightmare and head up the hills as we progress towards Les Alps. The sun has given us a good baking on a few occasions already this trip to the point in which we appreciated overcast conditions, the forcast storm was not forthcoming and we endured the highest temps of the trip. Reapplying suncream every hour it dripped from our skin almost immediately. I took the precaution to wear my Nike long sleeve underneath the jersey.

At a lunch stop by a supermarche chain called ‘Casino’ a local came over who spoke pretty good english and warned of the impending storm, the sky was clear blue but he told us it would hit in a few hours so we should hurry to Champagnole. Sure enough within 15 minutes of chowing down a baguette and chocolate bars the clouds rolled in and they were navy blue. We rode as hard as we have all trip for the last 25 miles and managed to arrive at the campsite as thunder began to rumble, set the tents up and jump inside seconds before the rain lashed down.

Riding a bike especially in new places is like people watching but with a revolving landscape. You spend most of your day watching the clouds. The weather can dicate the entire day from what clothes your going to wear, what route your going to take, where your going to eat and where your going to sleep. I’ve became pretty good at anticipating things like rain in the distance however there is always that moment when trying to decifer if thats a patch of blue sky or just a greyish blue cloud sat amongst white, in mid-France its normally the latter.

Waking to rain can complicate leaving, you pack everything whilst still cramped in the tent then chuck it on the bike, thankfully after sleeping another hour it stopped for a while. From Champagnole we were to hit Geneva making a brief crossing into Switzerland. Climbing all day was made easier by quiet roads and spectacular scenery, when its wet I get lazy with pictures though because I don’t like to get the camera out. Physically almost spent after multiple switchback climbs I thought we had one last mountain pass to tackle looking at the winding roads on the maps. Needless to say we were both elated to get round the first bend to so the most fabulous downhill road all the way to lake Geneva, work done now time to enjoy.

I would put the downhill up there as my second best ever behind the 20 mile Mackenzie pass downhill in Oregon. One thing I had forgotten is that Switzerland didn’t adopt the euro, its still swiss francs. Having picked out a municipal campground as we have most the way we arrived to find a very basic patch of grass with no electricity or showers, poor. The guy running the place came over to explain the rates. I was waiting for the punchline when he requested 40 euros each of us, it didn’t come, thats about £34 each to pitch our tents on a small patch of grass. Fuming we rolled back into a near town to grab some wifi. Surely a bad hotel would at least give us a shower for that much. Turns out we didn’t do our homework and our ignorance would cost us. Whilst looking for hotels around Geneva I saw one place advertise rates “from 600 euro a night” thats about £500 for 3*, wow. It was getting late, we hadn’t eaten so we went looking for food. Suddenly the busy commuter town from an hour ago was all shutdown. I felt the biggest clunk after hopping off a curb to see my front tyre had gone flat. I told Eal to roll back to the campsite an negotiate a better price for us both sleeping in one tent whilst I fixed the flat, annoying but only a 15 minute job.

When I got back the campsite was quiet, we double checked the office hours on the small cabin at the front. The guy was home for the night and wouldn’t be back until 8am the next day. I won’t go into full detail but lets just say we left very early the next morning. Its a rough night sleeping without a shower after riding bikes all day smelling worse than ever with hands caked in black oil. A fancy restaurant ajoined the site and campers were supposed to use the toilet block which their customers were strolling into. Stood brushing my teeth and washing my face in the sink whilst people came in and out. They must have either looked down on me or felt pity, I looked homeless. If I could have told them in French I had chosen to be like this for now and I was really fine I would have.

After the 6am start 😉 and breakfast in Geneva I had to hit a bike shop, whatever punctured my tube must have been sharp because it has slashed a good half inch across my tyre. Im rolling on Schwalbe Marathon’s because they came with the bike but I have had them before and they only lasted me from Missouri to Montana in 2010. The Schwalbe Marathon Plus is made from a much tougher rubber compound with a stronger kevlar, luckily the shop had them so I replaced one of my tyres for now. The young lad at the great shop (Bike Passion, Geneva) offered to fit it but I declined. I asked him for route advice for the day which he was also useful with. I had issues sorting my brakes after replacing the new tyre I couldn’t get them as tight as I wanted without rubbing. Swallowed my pride and went back in the shop to ask wor lad to sort it out, took him 30 seconds and I learnt somthing new about brake mechanics! Eal summed Geneva up in 3 words “Sound but pricey”.

Trucking on into another sunny afternoon we passed through the valley that connects a number of larges cities across a metropolitan area down to Grenoble, Aix les baines was the destination and the first real tourist camping experience we had. Great campsite which even had the Germany – Portugal match showing in the bar enjoyed over a half pint of Leffe. We are aching all over, still no proper rest day after 2 weeks riding. but its a fine evening and we have one more ride to Grenoble where we have a 2 night hotel stay and finally a real day off.

 

Broke But Not Broken

Posted on by Ryan

After a week on the road it seemed like a good idea for a rest day to re-stock, cleanup and let the legs recoup after the initial riding. The issue was Grandpré, the town we had camped in, was tiny with few amenities, not the type of place you want to take a day off. The situation was complicated by our first bout of rain, heavy rain, which showed no sign of letting up. We packed sopping wet tents away in the rain whilst getting drenched ourselves and decided to ride 27 miles to Sainte-menehould, a bigger town with a few hotels. It was raining sideways with a strong headwind the whole way, some rest day!

Upon arrival we wolfed down a pate poulet (chicken pasty) then scouted out the hotel options, just the 2 it seemed. The first place was closed so we headed towards the other hotel, Le Cheval Rouge. It seemed way too classy, a restaurant encompassed the grond floor with no obvious access to a hotel reception. Looking like a wet dog I parted my hair to the side and strolled in to see sharp linen clothed tables filled with patrons enjoying a Sunday dinner. Thankfully the bar turned into a hotel reception round the side and the tendant clocked me straight away and got me a room sorted for just 55 euros, he even got the kitchen door round the back open to store our bicycles. In the room we used the bathtub to do our a laundry and even caught the queens jubilee flotilla making its way down the Thames in pouring rain.

Clean jerseys but socks still damp we packed up and left the next morning, no rain but bad headwinds again still feeling a little cheated by our non-rest day. The next campsite that evening was probably our worst yet, bug city, uncleaned shower/toilets. Some guys were painting fences around reception, I don’t think its quite holiday season in France yet as the place seems pretty dead which might explain the poor conditions, probably untouched since last September time. We have unintentionally enjoyed a tipple every night so far but that looked like ending until we made the decision to plow back a couple miles to a shop in a previous town for a bottle of wine to share and so it continues.


Incidentally, for any cyclists reading who are contemplating a tour in France here are my most used daily phrases:

“Parlez-vous anglais?” (Do you speak English, total kop out but about 75% of the time it can resolve the situation as their English is often better than my French)

“Bonsoir! Vous avez une chambre/camping pour deux personnes?” (Good evening, do you have a room/camping for 2 people)

Last but not least the all important breakfast order at any pattiserie, my favourite:

“Une pain aux chocolat et une pain aux raisin, s’il vous plait”…and don’t forget your merci’s!

I have been a little embarrassed by my poor french skills. I’ve decided as a 3 year long resolution I will attempt to learn 3 languages to a reasonable degree. Starting with the easiest one brushing up my German before improving my French and Spanish.

Feeling leggy the following days we rolled on to Langres for a 4* camping experience followed by a blistering hot sweatfest to Besancon. All french towns in this area are perched on the top of the steepest hills dotted with forts from settlements hundreds of years ago. It makes for an agonizing climb at the end of each ride when at your weakest with the lactic acid screaming in your thighs. Major difference to the USA, when I rolled west following the same pattern the land was settled, each town was bang in the middle of the flattest valley for farming etc, makes sense.

Upon arrival in Besancon we had hit rush hour, little did we know quite how big the town, or city rather, was. Traffic made it impossible to navigate towards the centre, we were overheating, exhausted, out of Garmin juice for directions and stuck in the middle of a commercial district. First motel type place we saw said they were full, the car park was empty. The second place looked full but gave us a room despite relucatance. They obviously don’t appreciate two homeless stinking cyclists walking around the complex filled with business men attending functions. Eal managed to misplace one of his gloves and I had taken us on a few wrong turns earlier that day. No rest days is catching up to us, we are making mistakes and both nursing tired legs. Showered, fed and beer in hand with a bed to sleep in soon brightens spirits though. Its all character building besides some people have to work for a living.

Deux Camping

Posted on by Ryan

We rode with Wim on his Way to work and he pointed us on route where we rejoined the fietsnetwork for the first portion of the day before joining the canal path all the way into Leuven, a slightly less glamourous city than Gent and Antwerp but intriguing all the same, I’ve never been so excited to get a closer look at a building than when the town hall first crept into sight.

Heading south of Leuven, Belgium changed rapidly. Towns were far more rustic and rural, nobody spoke english and everybody spoke French! I studied German in school, I know almost zero French aside from the very basics. We can almost fool people into thinking we speak French with a Bonjour and Merci, until they intiate conversation any further then we just stand looking plum faced. Riding was made all the more difficult by several cobbled streets, all excitement about passing throught the town of Hoegaarden, home of the beer which we have learnt is actually pronounced ‘who-yarden’ not ‘ho-garden’ as we have been doing for many years, was sapped away by a downhill over chunky cobbles that rattled the bikes to pieces. I resolved that for all the tough climbing still to come we can be glad there not cobbled!

After a nights camping in Manoir De la Bas, more cobbled towns and a few long 9% grade climbs followed the next day as we hit the hometown of another beer, Chimay! Skirting around the outside of the Ardennes hasn’t meant avoiding climbs. Our mileage has picked up with a couple of 65 mile efforts, We’ll probably need to take a rest day soon if not for our legs then to clean our clothes. The clean bike shorts and jersey situation is becoming critical. I’ll have to wear them upside down and inside out before long.

A guy called Ray from Portsmouth tried to befriend us at the Chimay municipal campground, unfortunatley it was straight after a long ride and we were trying to get some tea cooked and setup camp. He said he spends 10 days camping in Chimay every year and planned to hitch home, he did offer some chillies for your chilli pulled from his top snap shirt pocket which we declined and told us to use a pinecone as a scrubbing brush for our pans. We later regretted not talking a little more to Ray, he was a quirky fellow.

Chimay sits close to the french border and we soon made the crossing. Every French town has l’eglise which is normally right in the centre and a boulangerie for us to get our pastry fills. A couple of dog chases, a few wrong turns and a 70+ mile ride later we hit the town of Grandpré on a blazing hot Saturday for another camping effort. The municipal campgrounds in these towns are only a couple of euro’s each, add to that we have been cooking for ourselves mosts nights we have barely spent a penny recently, easy living while the weather holds…