Essentially this day consists of rain, wind, getting lost and the first complaints of my wheel.
Rain: It rained, and it rained alot. Thankfully, we've become so use to it that there is no problem with rain anymore as long as we are wearing our waterproofs. Unfortunately we both lack sufficient waterproofs for our hands and feet, and especially my feet. I was sporting my wonderful, wonderful binbag socks again - they had worked so well last time it would have been silly not to. However my selective memory had forgotten to warn me that the binbag socks had not really been tested in rainy weather properly. It turns out that if you wear plastic bags over your feet, it does keep your socks dry but also creates a reverse wet-suit and causes your feet to freeze - and they did freeze. It got to the point where I couldn´t pedal efficiently because I couldn't feel my toes at all. Eventually we had to stop for a bit so I could warm my feet by - taking them out of my shoes and warming them in the cold air. After today I'm never using these again.
Wind: Actually it wasn't that windy, but there were several bits where the gusts were capable of throwing us from our bikes. However we were on good clean country roads, which leads me to:
Getting Lost: It didn't really add much to the journey, but it still did not make me happy. We were taking some smaller roads and Danny was leading the way. Had it not been raining and the sun had been shining, we would have been fine, however I was not in a good mood what with the bad weather and with no idea where we were I was very nervous about the whole day. Our destination was Chateauponsac, where the campsite is open all year (no problems there), which wasn't to far from Montmorillon, so the day wasn't going to be too hard. Which was good because it was a sunday, and things are hard to get hold of on a sunday. However, the trip just seemed to take so long in the wet feet and the wet back wheel...
Back Wheel: It seems that even with getting the bikeshop in Tours to re-grease my back wheel it still gets into difficulty in the wet. As we were travelling down this muddy road, after having got ourselves lost (the french do not make it easy sometimes), the wheel started squeaking quite badly, and vibrating the bike frame as well. It did not feel healthy at all. I was getting really worried about it, and wanted to get to the campsite as quickly as possible. However the region we were entering took on a completely different terrain from what we were used to, which also seemed to change the entire culture as well. It reminded me of the Lake District; dark stone, small rivers pouring into large ones, thick woodland. I noticed that this land changed the building materials of the buildings and it all seemed very different from the Normandy and Loire regions we had been through. Still very french though.
The Campsite and Town sat perched upon the top of a great hill overlooking a beautiful river valley (and in a few days time we would realise just how beautiful the river valleys could be in this region). When we reached the campsite, the reception was shut but we were intercepted by a friendly and helpful old French man (who was 86), and with my broken french he was able to communicate to me that the reception would open at 8am tomorrow morning and that the showerblock was shut, but that we were to use the restaurant toilets. I had a great time trying to explain to him where we had travelled and I think he understood some of it. My French was definately getting better.
Saturday, 5 April 2008
Friday, 4 April 2008
Day 15 - Cheapest Campsite Ever!
Another day, another morning after sleeping rough. No showers for us poor sods. Danny took a look at my brakes and replaced the front brake pads as they had completely worn down. It was a temporary fix as they really need a bit more work on them, but we wanted to get moving as quickly as possible.
The day promised to be really, really miserable. For the first couple of hours the rain kept itself skyward, but before long it just started to pour it down, so out came the waterproofs, and once again I was back into the world of wet shoes and wet socks. Our plan for today was the town of Montmorillon, where we hoped the campsite was open (seems things are a little less sure in France). We followed road east till we hit the Vienne river and then followed that south to Lussac-les-Chateaux.
To be honest I don´t remember much of today, it all seemed very dull. We picked up foods in an Intermarche and found our way to Montmorillon as the rain began to lessen. When we got to the campsite we sat on the steps and waited for the reception to open up again and for the rain to stop falling. We waited awhile but it was worth it. It was €3.50 for both of us, and the campsite itself was a delightful little place just sitting by a small river that flowed through it. Most of it was locked up, only the mens shower block was open, but seeing as there was almost nobody else there, that wasn´t a problem. I warmed myself against the radiators and waited for my things to dry as Danny prepared fooding. The shower was fantastic, and much needed, and it wasn´t long till most of my wet clothes were drying quite nicely. The rain had stopped by now, and Danny and I both curled up in our own tents to the biggest dinner yet. Good food, cheap wine, and sitting in the warmth and dry. Its such a luxury to have that nowadays. I slept well that night.
The day promised to be really, really miserable. For the first couple of hours the rain kept itself skyward, but before long it just started to pour it down, so out came the waterproofs, and once again I was back into the world of wet shoes and wet socks. Our plan for today was the town of Montmorillon, where we hoped the campsite was open (seems things are a little less sure in France). We followed road east till we hit the Vienne river and then followed that south to Lussac-les-Chateaux.
To be honest I don´t remember much of today, it all seemed very dull. We picked up foods in an Intermarche and found our way to Montmorillon as the rain began to lessen. When we got to the campsite we sat on the steps and waited for the reception to open up again and for the rain to stop falling. We waited awhile but it was worth it. It was €3.50 for both of us, and the campsite itself was a delightful little place just sitting by a small river that flowed through it. Most of it was locked up, only the mens shower block was open, but seeing as there was almost nobody else there, that wasn´t a problem. I warmed myself against the radiators and waited for my things to dry as Danny prepared fooding. The shower was fantastic, and much needed, and it wasn´t long till most of my wet clothes were drying quite nicely. The rain had stopped by now, and Danny and I both curled up in our own tents to the biggest dinner yet. Good food, cheap wine, and sitting in the warmth and dry. Its such a luxury to have that nowadays. I slept well that night.
Day 14 - Out of Tours
Made a big mistake in the morning for this day. Cycling into Tours, I was leading the way to get to the little supermarket where we were going to buy lunch, and Danny was following me. I made a quick jump across the junction, but didn´t realise that Danny hadn´t followed me. I cycled onto the supermarket, and waited for Danny. It took us 1 hour to find each other, and when we did Danny was not pleased about the whole escapade. Fair enough I guess. Whoops.
Finally got lunch and it was Danny´s turn to map read for us. We followed the river west for what seemed like hours, but we were unsure if we were on the right road. Finally we saw some signs we recognised and got onto the road south to Azay-le-rideau, L´lle-Bouchard, Richelieu, which we reached at about 5pm. Our goal was St. Cyr, where there was a campsite. It seemed like a long way south now. We picked up supplies in Richelieu and headed over the quickest route possible. Up and over country lanes, through tiny villages and rode hard with the dying sun giving us impetous. Without any water we needed to get to the campsite otherwise we would find ourselves hungry and cold that evening. Before long we found ourselves cycling in the dark, our back lights were on and we both brought out our new front led torches so we could see the road. Danny led with his more powerful head torch, while I followed gripping mine uncomfortably in my hands.
We had a small encounter with a group of french men in a white car, which was odd and probably quite dangerous. As we were cycling down into a small town, a white car came up beside me and kept moving from side to side, pushing me toward the further toward the kerb, it then did the same to Danny. It then stopped right in front of Danny and a french bloke leaned out the car door and started talking to Danny. We both said we didn´t understand, and it was difficult to read from his bodylanguage what he was trying to say. It might have been "We are really sorry for our bad driving", or it might have been "Give us all your cash". Difficult to say. It was kinda of a uneasy moment for both of us, and we don´t like cycling in the dark now because of it.
The road down to La Tricherie, where we were going to cross the river, was steep and it had become difficult for me to apply my brakes fully. It was at this point that my brakes failed completely. I wasn´t really getting any stoppage from either of them, and my ability to stop was quite, quite gone. Danny suggested that I put my foot down to help slow my descent, which I did for what seemed like forever. It was so painful on my legs, and it didn´t really help much but it was the only thing I could do. At the time it felt really really dangerous, and in retrospect, it was even worse than that. Night cycling is not the faint hearted.
Finally the hill ended, but it still took me great effort to slow in time to stop at the junction. Thankfully it wasn´t far to the campsite and I was badly in need of getting there. We crossed the bridge and saw the signs that we were looking for. We cycled past this odd building complex, and in the dark it was difficult tell if this was the campsite or not. We cycled in to find out; the lights were on and people were home. We could see people through the glass windows, but this was definately not looking like the campsite. Anyway, I went up to the door and a pretty, young french woman, who spoke very little english, eventually managed to tell us that the campsite was shut. Danny was not pleased. I redeemed myself however, by asking, in French, if we could fill our water bottles up. They kindly allowed us to fill them up and we said our goodbyes.
Oh well, another night sleeping rough. At least its cheap. We did a little reconnaisance of the campsite, which was nicely situated in a little activities park. The campsite was very erie though, it was completely dark, except for the reception that had a long dark corridor behind a glass door that was wierdly lit with faint green lights. Looked like something out of the X-files. We pitched our tents behind a little hill away from the road and Danny cooked a well deserved meal for us. Food, food, food.
Finally got lunch and it was Danny´s turn to map read for us. We followed the river west for what seemed like hours, but we were unsure if we were on the right road. Finally we saw some signs we recognised and got onto the road south to Azay-le-rideau, L´lle-Bouchard, Richelieu, which we reached at about 5pm. Our goal was St. Cyr, where there was a campsite. It seemed like a long way south now. We picked up supplies in Richelieu and headed over the quickest route possible. Up and over country lanes, through tiny villages and rode hard with the dying sun giving us impetous. Without any water we needed to get to the campsite otherwise we would find ourselves hungry and cold that evening. Before long we found ourselves cycling in the dark, our back lights were on and we both brought out our new front led torches so we could see the road. Danny led with his more powerful head torch, while I followed gripping mine uncomfortably in my hands.
We had a small encounter with a group of french men in a white car, which was odd and probably quite dangerous. As we were cycling down into a small town, a white car came up beside me and kept moving from side to side, pushing me toward the further toward the kerb, it then did the same to Danny. It then stopped right in front of Danny and a french bloke leaned out the car door and started talking to Danny. We both said we didn´t understand, and it was difficult to read from his bodylanguage what he was trying to say. It might have been "We are really sorry for our bad driving", or it might have been "Give us all your cash". Difficult to say. It was kinda of a uneasy moment for both of us, and we don´t like cycling in the dark now because of it.
The road down to La Tricherie, where we were going to cross the river, was steep and it had become difficult for me to apply my brakes fully. It was at this point that my brakes failed completely. I wasn´t really getting any stoppage from either of them, and my ability to stop was quite, quite gone. Danny suggested that I put my foot down to help slow my descent, which I did for what seemed like forever. It was so painful on my legs, and it didn´t really help much but it was the only thing I could do. At the time it felt really really dangerous, and in retrospect, it was even worse than that. Night cycling is not the faint hearted.
Finally the hill ended, but it still took me great effort to slow in time to stop at the junction. Thankfully it wasn´t far to the campsite and I was badly in need of getting there. We crossed the bridge and saw the signs that we were looking for. We cycled past this odd building complex, and in the dark it was difficult tell if this was the campsite or not. We cycled in to find out; the lights were on and people were home. We could see people through the glass windows, but this was definately not looking like the campsite. Anyway, I went up to the door and a pretty, young french woman, who spoke very little english, eventually managed to tell us that the campsite was shut. Danny was not pleased. I redeemed myself however, by asking, in French, if we could fill our water bottles up. They kindly allowed us to fill them up and we said our goodbyes.
Oh well, another night sleeping rough. At least its cheap. We did a little reconnaisance of the campsite, which was nicely situated in a little activities park. The campsite was very erie though, it was completely dark, except for the reception that had a long dark corridor behind a glass door that was wierdly lit with faint green lights. Looked like something out of the X-files. We pitched our tents behind a little hill away from the road and Danny cooked a well deserved meal for us. Food, food, food.
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