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5 July - Budapest, Hungary
– Basel, Switzerland - By train
I left my very comfortable
hotel room and headed for the station to pick up
the bike path heading west from Basel to the
Atlantic coast in France. I once again took the
cheapest ticket which meant jumping in and out
of the train to move the bike from one car to
the next. It also meant I had only a seat, which
made it rather difficult to sleep.
6 July - Basel,
Switzerland – Mulhouse, France - 50 km
When I arrived in Basel, at
first I was a bit confused. Basel is located
where the Swiss, French and German borders meet,
and although located in Switzerland, it has
suburbs in both France and Germany. So I was not
quite sure where I was: Switzerland, France or
Germany!
It’s a fascinating city with
an old historic center, but I was keen to get on
the bike and to start heading west to the
Atlantic coast. I hopped on the bike path and
ambled on to Mulhouse, France. It was a short
ride along the Rheine, or to be more exact, the
Rheine canal.
It was a particularly
picturesque ride, with a forest to my left and a
canal with ducks and swans to my right. The path
was well marked and I soon arrived in Mulhouse,
which gave me plenty of time to explore, and
pick up some bread and cheese in the village. I
then set off to the local campsite where, not
only did they have Wi-Fi, there were also pizzas
for sale! I was fairly tired from the lack of
sleep so I wanted to have an early night - not
so easy in a place where it is still light at
9.30 p.m!
7 July - Mulhouse –
L’Isle-sur-le Doubs -
80 km
I ate some bread and cheese
for breakfast, and then slowly packed up, so it
was 10 a.m. before I got on the road. I was on
the Veloroute 6 cycle path and it continued in
an easterly direction along the Canal du Rhone.
The path is not as busy as the Danube cycle path
but still well-used, and I shared it with fellow
cyclists, runners and Nordic walkers. These
cycle paths really are the best thing since
sliced bread!
The canal was fairly busy
with barges and boathouses cruising up and down
the canal. It seems to be quite slow-going for
them as there were many locks where each had to
wait in line to pass through. Each lock has a
“lock master”, with his house situated directly
opposite the lock. Most of these were picture
pretty with lovely colourful gardens.
I stopped for coffee only
once, as dark clouds gathered and it soon
started drizzling. I pulled into the next best
campsite and hardly had my tent up before the
thunder and lightning started. Safely in my
tent, I ate the leftover bread and cheese, but
also spotted a mobile pizza stand at the
entrance to the campsite. As soon as the rain
stopped, I made a beeline for the pizza stand
and scoffed half a pizza, saving some for
breakfast the next morning.
8 July - L’Isle-sur-le Doubs
– Ranchot - 110 km
I woke to a misty Friday
morning but the mist soon cleared and it turned
into a wonderful, sunny day. While waiting for
my tent to dry, I drank some coffee and ate the
leftover pizza.
I was still following the
Rheine canal, cycling past rustic-looking
villages that appeared uninhabited as not a peep
was to be heard from any of the houses. The
canal was as busy with houseboats as the day
before, all slowly travelling down the canal.
At Besancon I stopped to
admire the biggest fort/citadel I have ever
seen. The citadel occupies eleven hectares on
top of Mount Saint-Etienne. Situated high up on
a hill, it even has a tunnel running underneath
it. I cycled through the tunnel and popped out
the other side, to discover that the fort was
even bigger than expected. Although Besancon is
quite a large town, I decided to continue on as
it was still early in the day.
I came unexpectedly upon a
small sign indicating that I had only 730 km to
go to reach Nantes on the Atlantic coast. It was
much closer than I had expected.
So, on spotting a campsite at
Ranchot, I felt I had covered enough ground for
the day and pitched my tent. It was a very basic
campsite, but the smell of the freshly-mowed
lawn and the sound of the river made it heaven
on earth. Finding food proved to be harder than
expected. The campsite was situated in a very
small village and I had to cycle back to the
previous village to find bread. Not that it was
a big deal, as it was only 1.5 km away.
9 July - Ranchot –
Verdun-sur-le-Doubs -
105 km
I’m back to my old ways of
sleeping in, and by the time I woke up, just
about everyone in the campsite was already gone!
They must have been in a great hurry.
It was about 25 km to Dole,
the birth place of Louis Pasteur, which dates
back to the Middle Ages. The Collegiale-Notre-Dame
is most likely the most important building in
the town. It is located in the centre of the old
town, and can be seen from quite a distance
away. After a short cycle though the narrow
streets, I was back on the bike path heading for
Seurre.
It drizzled for most of the
day and I was frankly fed up with being wet. On
seeing a campsite at pretty Verdun-sur-le-Doubs,
I enquired and found the cheapest campsite to
date. At 5 Euros it was by far the cheapest I
have encountered to this day, and it even came
with an English speaking lady at reception and
Wi-Fi!
By the time my tent was
pitched, I was absolutely starving and quickly
cycled to the local mini-market to pick up some
bread, cheese, chips, a beer and coffee (what’s
new?). I did not mind the short cycle as Verdun-sur-le-Doubs
was yet another very old settlement with
beautiful old buildings, narrow alleys and old
stone bridges.
10 July - Verdun-sur-le-Doubs
I woke to thunder and
lighting and decided to stay the day. I had to
do some long overdue laundry and, as there was a
washing machine and drier in the campsite, it
was just the place (bargain!).
I felt ever so French as I
zooted around this small village on my bicycle,
drinking coffee at a pavement café and buying a
baguette and camembert cheese from the local
grocer. Before returning to the campsite, I
popped in at the supermarket to get gas for my
stove, washing powder for the much-needed
laundry and salt for the bland food. My panniers
always seem to get heavier instead of lighter!
In the afternoon, the rain
ceased, and with the campsite situated right on
the river, I sat watching the houseboats
put-putting by and serious-looking fisherman
casting their lines. As usual, I did not see
anyone actually catching anything.
I now also threw in the odd
“Bonjour”, “Merci” and “Au revoir”, but going by
the expressions on their faces, they probably
thought I was swearing at them - ha ha!
11 July -
Verdun-sur-le-Doubs –
Paray-le-Monial - 132
km
The next day turned out to be
a beautiful sunny day for a change, so I put
foot and cycled all the way to Paray. I spent
the entire day next to the canal. Although the
cycle path went up over the hills, I stuck to
the road which made it much easier. I was in a
totally different area of France, vineyards
abounded, and gone were the forests of the
previous days. Only once did I go off-road along
a path that the map indicated as “rough”, but it
was no more than a grassy jeep track.
There were still houseboats
aplenty and I even spotted one with a big South
African flag. I could not pass up the
opportunity to say hello and they looked as
surprised as me to find a fellow countryman in
this part of France. We had a quick chat and
then it was their turn for the lock so they had
to move on.
By the time I reached Paray I
was hungry and tired, but fortunately there it
was… a mobile pizza stand at the gate of the
campsite. After pitching my tent and having a
shower, I splashed out on a pizza. It was one of
the better ones - or I was just very hungry! It
was one of the few warm days so I lay outside my
tent on the grass, ate my pizza and drank a beer
until the sun went down, which was only around
10 p.m.
12 July - Paray-le-Monial
– Nevers - 115 km
I could not believe my luck
as I woke to another sunny morning. I was up and
on the bike before nine, just in case the
weather turned bad again. I was now along the
Loire River and the cycle path seemed to head
over the hills again, so I just stuck to the
road and followed the river. Past
medieval-looking towns, which appeared to be
deserted. I reached Decize and found a campsite,
but as it was still early and the weather was
holding out, I had a cup of coffee and pedaled
on to Nevers.
The campsite was situated
right on the Loire River with a view of the old
town and cathedral. A short walk into town also
revealed a Carrefour, so I popped in, got a
ready-made salad, two baguettes, more coffee and
I was set for the evening.
What an extraordinary place
Nevers turned out to be. With its narrow,
winding streets, old houses and cathedrals, it
was a good choice for the night.
13 July - Nevers –
Cosne-Cours-sur-Loire - 90 km
I was disappointed to wake to
another dreary and cold morning. Winter was back
and I was slow in rising. It was 10 a.m. before
I set off heavy-heartedly into the light
drizzle. Hardly an hour into the ride, I stopped
for my first coffee at a cozy-looking pub.
The day dragged on as I had
my head down and pedaled into a slight headwind
and a constant drizzle. It felt and looked more
like autumn than summer.
I turned off to Cosne to draw
money and buy a sim card for my modem. On the
ride into the village I also spotted a
nice-looking campsite so that was me, done for
the day. The rain abated and I could sit outside
my tent while having my usual bread and cheese.
14 July -
Cosne-Cours-sur-Loire - Orleans - 124 km
What a tough day on the road
it was. I cycled into the wind all day long and
I did not appreciate the gravelly bits along the
path either!
I stopped for coffee in small
villages, which, despite looking closed down,
fortunately always seem to have open pubs! At
Sully, I had lunch at the castle and then it was
back on the bike again, and into the wind. It
was quite late by the time I reached Orleans,
but fortunately it stays light until fairly late
in the evening.
I had a plate of French fries
and a beer, and then it was off to bed. It was
Bastille Day which is the French National Day,
but no amount of fireworks was going to keep me
awake! The poor buggers had to wait until 11
p.m. to start the fireworks as it stays light
until around 10 p.m. Thousands of Euros must
have gone up in smoke that night! The ground
literally shook!
15 July - Orleans –
Chaumont-sur-Loire - 84 km
I woke to a lovely sunny
morning on the banks of the Loire River. No
breakfast as I was a bit slack at the shopping
the previous day. I chatted in camp to other
campers and it was 10 a.m. before I packed up
and headed downstream; 20 km later I found a
lovely village and an equally nice pastry shop.
I weaved through
medieval-looking villages, sticking close to the
Loire River. This time I did some shopping along
the way and soon afterwards found a conveniently
located campsite. I felt tired from cycling into
the wind for the past few days and concluded
that I had had enough for the day. The Bastille
Day celebrations were still in full swing, and I
was treated to yet another display of fireworks
and could hear bands playing from across the
river.
16 July - Chaumont-sur-Loire
– Montsoreau - 110 km
I packed up in a hurry as it
was spitting again. It was another blustery day
as I cycled past Amboise where people live in
caves; it reminded of Coober Pedy in Australia.
I also discovered that caves make very good wine
cellars. Past impressive Tours where I stopped
for a quick coffee, and then it was back on the
bike and into the wind and rain again. What an
utterly miserable day it was. I was desperate
for a toilet stop and once I spotted a bit of
forest I quickly squatted down - only to find
that I had placed myself squarely on a patch of
stinging nettles! My ass was literally on fire
and I covered the last 15 km to camp in record
time!
17 July - Montsoreau – La
Possonniere - 78 km
I was reluctant to leave my
tent as another cold, windy and overcast day
awaited. My path led me up the hills and through
vineyards, past impressive-looking castles and
back down to the river again.
Around midday the wind became
even stronger and nearly blew me off my bike. I
became more and more irritated as I battled into
the wind. I was not a happy chappie! The wind
drove a cold rain into my face so I pulled my
cap down, put my head down and battled on until
I reached La Possonniere which had a basic
campsite.
18/19 July - La
Possonniere - Nantes - 92 km
I slept well and only woke up
at around 8 a.m. There was little change in the
weather, and I packed up and moved on. 30 km
down the road, my stomach told me it was time
for breakfast and I stopped at a café for coffee
and a croissant. I never fail to be surprised by
going around corners in these small villages and
seeing old castles and forts. It’s such a pretty
route that I quickly forgot about the weather.
On reaching Nantes, my last
big city before I finally leave the Veloroute 6,
I looked in vain for a campsite. Two campsites
were indicated on my map, but neither were still
in existence. I cycled around town looking for a
cheap hotel, but could find none. In the end I
settled for a fairly priced hotel where I booked
in for two nights.
Nantes is a big town and it
had all I was looking for. I desperately needed
a roadmap for the next section along the
Atlantic coast to Spain. I did my laundry,
sorted out my internet connection and did some
personal maintenance, not that it made any
difference! It was a pleasure to wander the
narrow alleys where locals sat chatting and
sipping coffee at sidewalk cafés.
20 July - Nantes – La
Bernerie - 95 km
In anticipation of another
headwind, I was packed up and on the road by
8.30 a.m. The wind was however the least of my
problems as it bucketed down the entire day. I
followed the last part of the Loire River until
it reached the Atlantic ocean at St Nazaire. I
finally said goodbye to the Eurovelo 6 cycleway
and headed south along the coast. The weather
was shite the entire way and I was getting sick
of it!
I was however surprised to
spot signs for yet another cycleway - the
“velocean” route. It was very well sign posted,
so I followed their little arrows until I
reached La Bernerie, which had a rather fancy
campsite. I was soaked to the bone and happy to
call it a day. Trying to keep things dry while
putting up a tent in the bucketing rain is plain
useless. Before I had the flysheet on, the
entire tent was wet. Once inside I was quick to
make myself a cup of coffee. With dry clothes on
and a steaming mug of coffee in my hands, I was
once again a happy puppy.
21 July - La Bernerie - Port
Bourgenay - 113 km
There was no chance of drying
out the tent or my clothes in that weather, so I
packed all the wet stuff into plastic bags and
set off. I followed a cycle path that was slow
going and a bit frustrating, but at least it was
away from the busy main roads. It was scenic but
the path is more suited to families with
children on a day out. Truth be told, it would
have been much quicker to take the normal road.
The small roads are unfortunately exactly that –
small and very narrow – but still very busy,
which can make them difficult to cycle on. I
must, however, give it to the French: they will
sit patiently behind you on these narrow roads,
waiting to overtake. And when they eventually
get a chance to pass, they still wave and give
you the thumbs up!
The path took me across the
Vendee, along canals, through forests, over
dunes and along the coast. Past large and
popular holiday resort towns, until I reached
Port Bourgenay where I found a relatively cheap
campsite. Rather than miss out on cheap camping,
I decided to stop for the night. The Vendee is a
flat area with the highest point reaching 295m,
and with a good tail wind and no rain it was a
good day on the road.
22 July -
Port Bourgenay – La Rochelle
- 107 km
The sun came out for the
first time in days. At last I could dry my tent
before rolling it up. I also discovered that
what I had bought in good faith the day before
as yoghurt, was in fact cream! So breakfast
consisted of muesli and cream. My first stop was
at the seaside resort of La Tranche and what a
vibe it had! It had a real holiday feel with all
kinds of stalls, merry-go-rounds, wind-surfing
shops, the works. After cycling around for a
while I got back on the road. I once again made
the mistake of following a cycle path, which
promptly disappeared and left me wondering just
where the hell I was.
Eventually I found myself on
a marked road again and continued on towards La
Rochelle. By that time the wind had picked up to
near storm strength, my windbreaker was roaring
in the wind like a Boeing 747. I had every
intention of continuing past La Rochelle, but I
weakened when I spotted a campsite which did not
look too pricey. However, I soon discovered the
reason for the discounted price! It was right on
the flight path of the aircrafts landing at the
nearby airport. What noisy place! The owner of
the campsite was rather impressed by my
“itinerary” and kept repeating that it was
impossible. He then proceeded to tell the entire
campsite. I felt a bit like a celebrity… photo
shoot and all!
23 July - La Rochelle –
Verdon-sur-mer - 113 km
I had a rather slow start to
the day but eventually got on my way. It took me
forever to clear the city boundaries. 20 km
later I was eventually out the city and on my
way. It was quite a frustrating day as it felt
that I was continuously looking for smaller
roads to cycle on. Much as expected, the wind
was as strong as the previous day. I hated the
idea but eventually I just got on the big busy
road and cycled to Royan.
At Royan I took the ferry
across the windy bay to Verdon-sur-Mer. It was a
short ferry ride of about 30 minutes. I was
starving and had a quick cup of coffee and a
bread roll before we reached the other side. I
then cycled another 8 or 10 km down the road to
find a campsite.
24 July -
Verdon-sur-Mer – Gulan
Mestras - 121 km
It was an uneventful
morning’s ride. I was, however, pleasantly
surprised to find myself quite unexpectedly on
the Cameno route. At first I thought I was
mistaken but the signs were very clear and soon
I started seeing Cameno accommodation
advertised. The path was packed with families
out on a Sunday afternoon cycle, and I seemed to
be the only daft one with a loaded bike. It
turned out to be a very pleasant ride through
small villages where people were seriously
concentrating on their seemingly very popular
games.
At camp I chatted to one of
the first cycle touring people I had met along
the way – a French chap on his first cycling
holiday. It rained and rained and rained so
there was little chance for us to swap war
stories as we were both sat huddled in our own
tents. Fortunately the camp had a little store
where I could buy bread and cheese for supper,
and biscuits for breakfast the following
morning.
25 July - Gulan Mestras –
Farm camp Bias - 91 km
I waited until around 11h00
for the rain to stop, but with no sign of it
abating I eventually packed up. It was a
thoroughly miserable day. It did not stop
raining once the entire day. I eventually found
myself on a narrow and very busy road. That,
combined with the bad visibility, made me decide
to camp early. I spotted a “farm” campsite along
the way and found some more very unhappy campers
huddled together under a makeshift shelter. Some
were in the process of packing up to go home.
They had had enough of the bad weather and of
having nowhere to go with their active kids.
I hurriedly pitched my tent
but just about everything got wet before I had
the flysheet up. What a good thing I had stopped
along the way to replenish my dwindling food
supply. I lay in my tent, munching away on
sweets and crisps. Later that evening, I warmed
up the ready-to-eat meal that I had bought at
Lidels earlier on that day. I’m usually slack at
stopping along the way to buy food, and once at
camp I’m often too lazy to go look for food.
Most campsites have small shops where I can
normally find something to eat, but as this was
a farm campsite it had no such facilities.
26/27 July - Farm camp,
Bias – Capbreton - 91 km
I donned my last dry clothes,
had a quick cup of coffee and left. The show
must go on! No good lying around. I hated the
idea of another wet and rainy day, but what else
was there to do? I had my head down into the
drizzle all day long. I stopped at a supermarket
to stock up and as I came out the rain came down
in droves again. I was quite frankly fed-up with
that rainy affair and it was at that point that
I decided to pull into the next best available
campsite.
The following morning the sun
half came out and I decided to make use of the
camp ‘laverie’. I washed and dried my clothes
which had been in plastic bags for a few days
and smelled like something had rotted in my
panniers. A quick trip into Centre Ville also
revealed a map- and camera shop where I could
get more memory cards and a road map of Spain. I
also purchased an adapter for the campsite’s
power point so I could charge my notebook and
camera. I was very active and posted home my
memory cards with the photos from the past
months. I spent the rest of the day chatting on
the internet – what a handy thing this notebook
is. I would be completely lost without it.
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