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!

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.