Katherine's post - May 25th

The Loire at  dawn, quite a special sight. The mist lay thick over the river, fast flowing here (a feeling of going somewhere distant) the sun just rising, dawn chorus of birds and nobody about. It's going to be a hot day and we plan many kms., more each day.

Yesterdays trip through the hinterland of the Loire was a delight, such beautiful villages, lovely houses and gardens and a snippet of history to be learnt in each place. 

Katherine

May 24th

May 24^th  Bracieux (Chombard) to Sancerre  118 kms

Eager to make up some time and perhaps eager also to get away from the camper vans and the other cyclists in the Loire valley I decided to take a cross country route and pick up the Loire again nearer Nevers. The decision was an excellent one and I enjoyed a spectacular day’s riding, almost totally alone through the carefully managed mixed woodlands of the Departments of Cher and Loire et Cher.

The 118 kms route, almost entirely on secondary roads, most of them very little used,took me through the wonderfully-named villages of Neung sur  Beuvron, St Viatre, Nouran le Fuzilier, Pierrefitte (our favourite),  Aubigny sur Nere, Vailly sur Sauldre and down to Cosne sur Loire.  Each carefully looked-after village with its one-storey, brick-edged houses, sometimes with intricate little blue patterns, clustered around its solid church, was a delight. But even more impressive perhaps were the woodlands: vast expanses of deciduous and coniferous forest with tantalizing tracks disappearing from the road, tempting me to put back on my VTT tyres and explore. Presumably at the end of these tracks are beautiful houses, where the owners of these “domains” live what must surely be a very isolated existence.The long straight roads, sometimes five or six kilometres without a corner, were eerily empty. And then dotted all over the forests are tarns and ponds, probably teeming with wildlife.

The only drawback from a cycling point of view perhaps is that the roads are so straight. On the other hand, this allows for a very peaceful, almost effortless, pedalling rhythm, highly conducive to positive creative thinking, the more so as the hills, such as they were, came only towards the end of the day as I approached the Loire.

We met few people today although there might have had to have  been a long conversation with the chap in Neung who, popping in to the boulangerie, failed to leave his ancient Renault 5 in gear. Just as the old jalopy began rolling towards us and the café where we were enjoying a coffee he noticed his moving vehicle, rushed out of the shop and dived into the driving seat. From his cheerful grins I suspect that this wasn’t the first time this had happened. It seemed strange, though, to have to think of the damage that would have been caused on such a pleasant morning had he not been looking out of the boulangerie window at the just the right moment. At least there would have been work for the garage owner at nearby La Ferte-Beauharnais who couldn’t have been more pleasant, insisting on inflating my bicycle tyres for me as I changed from VTT to slicks, and then giving the old Cannondale a good oiling. People like that just make my day.

A very good day’s cycling which gained me an entire day on my schedule. After all, the objective is not necessarily to cycle the entire Loire valley, but rather to get all the way to the Black Sea. The weather was gorgeous, even though that insistent east wind is still with us (or rather not with us but against us). 

Longest day yet at 118 kms 

Total since Galway 1196 kms. 

May 22nd

May 22^nd  Montsoreau to Ballan Mire  58 kms

Although there was a weak sun at dawn the day started frustratingly when we realized that the mobile phone had been in my trouser pocket in the washing machine all night! A support vehicle is great but useless without a mobile phone. So the first job was to drive to Chinon to buy another one which, in effect, took all morning.

But I was away by midday and after stopping to take a look at the beautiful church of St Martin with its astonishing porch supported by a single slender pillar, and, eschewing the scenic route by Savigny en Veron, I thought to make up a bit of time by taking the ugly route via the (to me) horrific Chinon nuclear power station. I don’t think the man just inside the perimeter fence with his big, black, ugly dog was simply taking it for a walk. Still wanting to make progress and thinking that the advised route down by the river might be a repeat of yesterday’s mud bath I kept on the surprisingly pleasant D7 to Rigny-Usse where we shared our lunch spot with a very convivial bunch of proudly troisieme age cyclists and their “vehicule d’assistance”. They were no sluggards though, covering well over 100 kilometers each day.   

One of the cyclists said that the Chateau of Rigny-Ussy was used by Disney for his illustration of The Sleeping Beauty and I can well believe it. I cycled away from the fairy tale castle down to the D16 which hugged the banks of the Loire for well over 12 kilometers through the picturesque village of Brehemont, its traditional boats moored to the quay. But I wasn’t the only person on a bicycle today. Half of Holland seemed to be on the move  on their strange, heavy,  sit-up-and-beg bikes, not to mention a group of French cyclists which I swear was the size of your average Tour de France peleton which bore down on me at the crossroads with the D57, a hundred times more frightening than a truck. They were complete kings of the road,  traffic had to submit to their every whim which at this crossroads seemed to be turning left, right and going straight on. I was glad to retrieve the calm of the last few kilometres of the riverside lane to the chateau of Villardy whose spectacular formal gardens are a wonder.  

The end of the day, though, was painful because tracking down the campsite at Ballan Mire was no joke.  However, Katherine did a great job and beamed me in on our new “portable” . We enjoyed a pleasant conversation with a couple from the Grisons who were camped opposite us and though none of us could understand the others language properly we all agreed that although the Loire Valley is a very beautiful place it doesn’t quite match Switzerland. So, all’s well.

Much better weather today with a blustery at times tail wind. The distance covered, though, was disappointing but not surprising considering the frustrations of the morning and the very agreeable lingerings in the gardens of Villardy in the afternoon.   

58 kms 

Total since Galway  984 kms

Just have to enthuse even more

May 21st thirteenth stage

May 21^st  thirteenth stage:  La Possoniere to Montsoreau  74 kms

Weather is still very poor, seemingly the poorest that many people can remember. Today  I covered fewer kilometres than I’d hoped partly because I didn’t start riding until 10.30.  Yesterday, being very cold and wet we took an excellent gite where we were also able to take advantage of WiFi access. Consequently this morning we were working from early on to catch up on correspondence, send blogs etc. We said goodbye to our lovely host and hostess and I set off for Bouchmaine and St Gemmes on pathways that were often only metres from the huge swirling river. From St Gemmes to St Marthurin I followed the old levee which at least for the first part was traffic-free. It is difficult to believe that fundamentally this water defence system has been in place since 1170 and has survived all but the very worst floods. At one point where there was a layby to observe the river I skidded to a halt to say hello to a couple of very crusty old Valaisian chaps in an equally weather beaten van eating lunch. I thought they might have offered me a glass of Fendant to help me on my way, but they didn’t. At least they hooted and waved when they passed me half an hour later.

Still it was raining and still I cycled on, over yet another iron girdered bridge  at St Marthurin to the quiet village of St Remy and then along a kind of corniche with stunning views over the sandbanks, through Le Thoureil to Gemmes and Cunault where the 12^th century church, surprisingly austere, is magnificent.  But in the rain there was no time to waste and I was quickly in Saumur, of whose beauty I had heard a lot. Today though it was nothing but irritation. Undirectional cycle paths which led everywhere but nowhere.   I abandoned them and made enquiries at a petrol station. Taking my life in my hands in the rush hour traffic I descended eventually to the river and the D927 along which the cars were racing as if they were at Brands Hatch. Thinking I was being wise I followed yet another cycle piste which led me in the right direction, thankfully, but down by the riverside along a path that was  axle-deep in clinging river mud. By the time I reached the hotel (there was no question of camping in this driving rain) I was too dirty and embarrassed even to cross the lobby. Guests must have wondered what on earth this 64 year old was doing, pretending to be sixteen. Or more likely they thought they were being visited by one of the troglodites who used to inhabit the caves in the cliffs behind the town.  In the event the lady of the house took pity on me and promised to have my cycling gear washed and dried for the morning.    Maybe today’s clouds had a silver lining.

Not the best day’s cycling I have ever had, and with only a moderate distance covered. It feels like more though.  I am praying for an improvement in the weather but the meteo isn’t promising.  74 kms. Total 926 kms since Galway. Should pass the 1000 mark tomorrow, all being well.

May 20th twelfth stage

May 20^th twelfth stage Blain to La Possoniere.  98 kms

What a day! Up before dawn to take down the tent and grab some breakfast before what looked like an enormous storm arrived. I was away by 7am on the last twenty kilometres of the Nantes Brest canal which took me to Nort sur Erdre. I was very sorry to say goodbye to the canal which had been a loyal and handsome friend for nearly 350 kilometres. I had started at lock 334 and finished at lock 4. A signpost in the town to Nort’s twinned town in Romania read 2500 kilometres, which gave me hope; I had thought it further than that. The D164 provided a swift link between the canal and the Loire and on early Sunday morning, with little or no traffic, the 30 kilometres passed quickly, even in the heavy rain and the February temperatures.  Katherine’s steaming hot soup, 10 kilometres before Ancenis, was extremely welcome.

And so to the Loire valley where everywhere you looked there was water. The river is huge, frequently splitting into three wide waterways, each linked by impressive iron bridges. The rain was now coming down in torrents and I wasn’t surprised to learn that these islands in the river  that I was, in effect, leapfrogging, are frequently flooded. I just hoped that it wasn’t going to happen today.

The cycle route through these open meadows and hidden villages along very secluded lanes is, fortunately, exceptionally well-signposted but there are gems en route that seem to be mentioned only in the Dutch guide books. I say this because  at the extraordinary Lenin café at La Basse Ile, between Montjean and Chalonnes  I met five tourists from Holland who had come specifically to visit this eccentric café-museum. 

The tiny isolated cottage is crammed to the rafters with Lenin and Russian memorabilia and to visit it is free. The lady of the house would prefer that you buy a drink, of course, and she serves excellent coffee in exquisite tiny painted mugs and even offers simple gite accommodation. Completely unexpected and absolutely brilliant. There is clearly a lot to discover in the Loire valley beyond the famous chateaux. The UNESCO site of the island and pilgrimage village of Behuard, where we enjoyed a  delightful evening meal is one such place. My choice during the next few days is going to be how to appreciate the region a little whilst keeping my head down and eating up the kilometres. And especially when it seems the weather is showing no signs of improvement yet.    

A difficult day mainly because of the cold rain but the wind has mostly abated. Clinging mist spoiled the views over the Loire but added to the atmosphere. The 98 kilometres means that I am gradually catching up on my planned schedule.  

98 kms 

Total since Galway 852 kms.

Katherine Heery

Wet tent,  wet clothes, wet maps, wet feet, wet porridge, in fact everything seemed to be soaked.  We left the canal behind plus the lovely flag iris, water lilies and a host of wild flowers on the bank side.

The packed car seemed to be steaming up as the heater was blasting away trying to get shoes and all the first lot of cycling gear dry, fruitlessly.  But of course I was in the dry so I did feel for Richard, it was so cold  as well as wet.

However all was saved with an excellent stay in a chambre d’hote in Possoniere, highly recommended. There was a great welcome, lovely 18^th century house and what a garden! We set off today ,in the rain again, revitalised. No time yet for chateau visiting but that is a must, at least one or two. Katherine

May 19th Rest Day

19^th Rest Day.  St. Nazaire

Before the next stage of the ride where I turn south east to reach the Loire Valley a detour was essential to St Nazaire and today was ideal, a rest day being welcome after three days of more than 100 kms each day, and  the weather further deteriorating to heavy rain and cold; more February than May.

But the grey, misty morning seemed appropriate for my first visit to this huge port. Seventy years ago my father  was a part of the daring commando raid on the dry dock and the submarine pens which effectively made the trans-Atlantic convoys much safer. For years  I have wanted to visit St Nazaire and my choice of route for this journey was partly dictated by this wish, just as my ride to John O Groats two years ago allowed me to visit the impressive monument to the Commandos at Spean Bridge in the Highlands.

Driving in the dull misty morning the forty or so kilometres to St Nazaire from Blain I persuaded myself that I was on a wild goose chase. However, nothing could have been further from the truth. Despite their town having been virtually razed to the ground by the allies the townspeople still remember the night of 28^th March 1942 when the decrepit old battleship Campbelltown destroyed the huge lock gate to the dry dock in the port.  The gigantic, cavernous, submarine pens,  the gun emplacements, and other fortifications are still there and it is perfectly possible to trace the events of the desperate raid and the movements of the soldiers.  The dry dock is still used for ship building and it was by a complete coincidence that this Saturday was the inauguration of the cruise liner MS Divina, and its departure on its maiden voyage. It was moving to watch this enormous vessel be guided out of the very dock that seventy years ago it had been so necessary to destroy.  The monument to the Commandoes is even more dignified than the one at Spean Bridge, being a four metre high shard of granite, presumably to symbolize strength. The fact that it stands not 50 metres from the children’s playground on the beach, nor that la Place des Commandos is mostly a carpark did not diminish its significance for me.