Friday started out well. We woke late, because its cold, and packed up fairly sharpish. I picked up some lunch in the boulangerie (the brownie once again found its way into my pack), and breakfasted on p-a-c (pain au chocolat). Cycled out and enjoyed some hilly, desolate, but quiet roads before we joined the main d-roads south toward Loungy-au-perche and our campsite destination. Stopped for some food in a chanpion supermarche in Damville. The odd thing about french supermarches is that we don't know which ones are posh and which ones aren't - which ones an asda and which ones a Waitrose. Cycled toward Venieule-sur-avre and then went off into the french wilderness (the white roads on the michelin maps) to get to Longny-au-perche as quick as possible.
The sky was dim at this point, but it had looked like that all day so we hoped for no rain. However the faint patters bagan just as I punctured my tyre on a big fat rock in the middle of the road. To be fair my back tyre (for it was my back tyre that burst) was a little low on the pressure, which may have contributed to the big hiss of air I heard, but I think it was mostly bad luck. As we hastily tore my bags from the bicycle's frame (my bags are all neatly attached to the back carrier) the rain started falling in buckets and I cursed all the dangerous debris on all the roads in France. We eventually got the spanner on and the wheel off and I tore off the tyre to get at the inner-tube. My hands were freezing and it took a while to get the new inner tube out of the box and onto the wheel. Then I just got pissed off and Danny took over, while I took to waterproofing my panniers (those yellow over-protectors are awesome, dad.)
Finally we got back on the bikes, and continued on our way through the freezing cold rain and I wih no over-shoes so before long it felt like I was cycling in a swamp - my feet were soaked. It was not a good day. Finally we made it to Longny-au-perche, a which point it stopped raining, and we finally found our way to the campsite; both of us tired, frustrated and not in good moods. I say campsite ... Monaco Parc (for that is its name) is actually a huge town made of caravans and mobile homes - there are even street names there! We were led down to the pitch where we were to set up our tents, which was nothing more than a grass verge next to a gravel road - this is a campsite not recommended for the camper. Everything was damp so I went to the shower block, which reminded me of a toilet in an airport but smelt like a chemical toilet, and sat in there to wait for all my clothes to dry. The showerblock was quite unique as the mens urinals was directly opposite the unisex basins (which is odd) and there was a vending machine that dispensed cans of heineken (which is slightly cool). There were also hairdryers on the wall, which I used to great effect the next day to dry my shoes out. While I was inhabiting the showerblock, like Tom Hanks in that film where he lives in an airport, Danny, brave man that he is, was cooking the most awesome beef curry I have ever tasted. We supped on that in the dark and the damp and prayed for a rain free morning.
The next day was still damp as it had rained throughout the night, and once again we both had had little sleep. We woke late in order to have a dry start and packed our gear up with more finesse than we had done in recent days - practice was certainly making perfect. We were only down the road, my hands freezing in the cold air and wet gloves, when suddenly Danny's back tyre burst and bad. A big bit of glass tore through the rubber and punctured his inner tube. He expertly took it off and brought out a handy spare (one of two), which he then broke by pumping to hard; the valve tore right off. So two tyres down, he did a bit of shifting and finally got both wheels working again, and once more we tore off in the direction of Le Mans. Tired, cold and miserable, though with the prospect of a youth hostel and a proper bed stopping us from spiralling into a malaise, we lunched in Belleme, where we were inspected by the locals and even had a small chat with the local rocker with his deliberately french hair-cut (crop top, with a slight mullet).
I was getting tired by this point, and the weather had not improved my mood. My feet were wet and my whole body was cold, so I cannot imagine I was good company. Finally, at about 6pm we made it into Le Mans, but without knowing where the Youth Hostel was, we had to wait until Danny's Mum could text us the address, for it was she who had booked us the rooms. Finally we found our way there, and poured, bags and all into the lobby. The woman in reception was a very nice, old dear who had only a little better understanding of english as we do of french, so it took a little time to confirm our reservation. But finally we were able to make our way upstairs and to our rooms.
With a warm room and warm, if somewhat creaky, beds, our next concern was food. On the way in Danny had espied a Pizza restaurant, so we went in there and I ordered the most expansive pizza on the menu (in the strong belief that expense means lots of stuff). Moderately filled, we found an internet cafe and set down for a little bit of internetting.
If you plan on going to Le Man and need a cheap place to stay I heartily recommend the Youth Hostel we stayed in, it was 10.40 per night per person, for your own single room. It was called La Fleure, or something like that. Very nice.
On Sunday we were to begin our trek to Tours, which we wanted to do in a day, but what with getting lost in Le Mans and then again just north of the Loir River, the chances were slim.
I was getting tired by this point, and the weather had not improved my mood. My feet were wet and my whole body was cold, so I cannot imagine I was good company. Finally, at about 6pm we made it into Le Mans, but without knowing where the Youth Hostel was, we had to wait until Danny's Mum could text us the address, for it was she who had booked us the rooms. Finally we found our way there, and poured, bags and all into the lobby. The woman in reception was a very nice, old dear who had only a little better understanding of english as we do of french, so it took a little time to confirm our reservation. But finally we were able to make our way upstairs and to our rooms.
With a warm room and warm, if somewhat creaky, beds, our next concern was food. On the way in Danny had espied a Pizza restaurant, so we went in there and I ordered the most expansive pizza on the menu (in the strong belief that expense means lots of stuff). Moderately filled, we found an internet cafe and set down for a little bit of internetting.
If you plan on going to Le Man and need a cheap place to stay I heartily recommend the Youth Hostel we stayed in, it was 10.40 per night per person, for your own single room. It was called La Fleure, or something like that. Very nice.
On Sunday we were to begin our trek to Tours, which we wanted to do in a day, but what with getting lost in Le Mans and then again just north of the Loir River, the chances were slim.
