Poole

We enjoyed last nights barbecue, us and eighteen French. The accordion player who wasn't sure if we were English or American, played songs mostly for us, which peeved the French who wanted traditional tunes. It was a little like 'name that tune'. Yes that's Abba, Yellow Submarine, that'll be the Beatles. Now again he missed a note, and when he insisted on singing seemed to forget the words. It, was a little like being on the film set of the 1980's sit com 'Allo Allo'. We were expecting Rene Artois to appear at any moment. All that aside we enjoyed the evening, Angela especially. A large paper cup of decent red wine for a euro. Of course she had a second. At ten though we made our way back to our little eco lodge, dropping a tip into the accordion players hat. He really had entertained us, and we'd enjoyed the food and being part of French life. It had made a memorable last night. But neither us slept well conscious we must be up and away very early. Angela was awake long before the alarm went off at 5 am. We'd packed our bags the night before, so it was just a case of sorting out the few items we'd needed during the night and this morning. We even had time to buy coffee from the vending machine in 'Le bungalow', to accompany a quick bite to eat. At six we were on our way. The roads were quiet and a little over ten minutes later we arrived at the railway station, glad we'd decided to take a test run to it yesterday afternoon. Our first train of the day,  taking us to La Rochelle thankfully arrived on time as we only had ten minutes to connect with the TGV which was already waiting on another platform as we arrived. We found the lift, which was out of order. Helpful. So John had to carry the bikes fully laden down the stairs and back up onto the other platform. We were fuelled by adrenalin, the connection with the Paris train linked the whole days travelling. We couldn't miss it. With a few minutes to spare we were safely onboard with the bikes and bags sharing a carriage at the front end of the train with two other people.

It was like being in first class after the cramped uncomfortable train travel we'd experienced travelling from Avingon to Bordeaux. It was still dark and as the train sped along the tracks in the gloom, we could pick out the lights of villages and towns.

Then just before eight the sun began to rise. The views through the train windows were spectacular, it felt like a really special moment. Just after twelve we arrived in Paris at Montparnasse station, with an hour and twenty minutes to cycle to St. Lazare station, almost four miles away. The roads were wet from earlier rain, but we had plenty of time. This was our third time cycling through Paris in the last eighteen months, and as always it was dangerous.

This time we made time to stop and take photographs before launching ourselves back onto the cycle way. French cyclists do not abide by rules. No giving way, stopping at red lights, cycling on the right and they travel as fast as they can, especially the electric bikes. Angela did not want an accident to occur and shouted continuously at the French as they cycled towards and across her. Unscathed we arrived at St. Lazare station in enough time to buy a much needed filled baguette to refuel us. Whilst waiting in the queue we spoke with an American couple who owned a boat in Paris. They recommend we cycle in the Netherlands. Not just because it was flat but also because the cycle lanes were totally separate from the vehicles. Other people have also suggest the Netherlands are worth a visit, so we may give it some thought.

Three hours fifteen minutes later we'd completed the last of our three rail journeys and arrived at Cherbourg. The weather was miserable. Overcast with rain threatening. We couldn't believe just over eight hours before we'd been in south west France, where even early this morning it was warm enough to wear shorts. With three hours of time to kill, Angela left John in the waiting room at the station with the bikes whilst she made one last visit to a French supermarket. Oh how she'd miss the wonderful produce in them, but not the slow procession through the check-outs. The bottle of Christmas Bordeaux bought along with eight pots of apple compote, two demi-baguettes, brie, two slices of apple tart, a bottle of soft drink and an all important bar of mint chocolate we cycled down to the ferry terminal to sit in yet another waiting area.

We were so, so sad to be leaving, thankful in a way the sun wasn't shining.

As the ferry slipped its moorings we didn't go outside and look back as we normally do. A meal eaten and wine drunk, by seven o' clock we just wanted to crash out and were not sorry when the boat arrived in Poole. The weather was horrendous, rain lashed down. So before disembarking we donned our wet weather clothing. A kindly port official told us to cycle to the front of the queue to passport control. Sorry vehicle drivers, dry, cosy and warm in there are you? Ten fifteen, (eleven fifteen to us, as we were still on French time), we arrived home. We'd been travelling for sixteen and a half hours. Mad. Had today really happened? 

We'll probably stay home for the weekend now before setting off down the west country in Marge for a few days. Our trip to France had been fun and eventful. Angela is almost mended, just her left hand and a small place on her knee to heal. The hospital bill for the first hospital she attended was awaiting us. Around £135.00. Just over £17.00 for the ambulance. Bargain. Our head is full of ideas for future travelling, which excites us. 'So much world, so little time'. Tomorrow would have been Angela's father's one hundredth birthday. The clocks ticking, so leave your sofas, pack up your car, van, caravan, pack a rucksack, book a flight or load up you bike and set off. You won't regret it.

Camping Municipal Le Rayonnement (day 4)

We have spent most of the day preparing to return home. Drying our tent, wet from the moisture of the tree that overhung us dripping all night and the condensation inside. As it's not easy to put a tent up where we live now John gave it a good wipe over and cleaned the inner tent. Just two pairs of socks to wash this morning. Not that we needed to, more out of habit. Then a cycle to the nearby shop for lunch food for today and tomorrow's train journeys.

Before setting off we moved into our eco lodge and put our names down to attend tonight's bbq.

We're the only English people on the campsite, could be interesting! We have also spent time discussing a possible return to southern France or Spain in a few weeks. Fingers crossed. After lunch we cycled out again. This time a practice run to the railway station to check how much time we need to allow in the morning and whether we may need to carry the bikes up or down stairs. Fortunately all the platforms are  on the level. We'll be up at five, packed and gone by six. We have three trains to board throughout the day. Our first connection is at La Rochelle. It will probably be the most stressful. We have just twelve minutes to find our platform and then two minutes to board the TGV which will take us to Paris. Then an hour and twenty minutes to cycle through Paris to catch the slow train to Cherbourg arriving mid afternoon. A couple of hours to buy a bottle of wine for the Christmas table and then a short cycle to the ferry terminal. The evening is about to begin here. We just know it's going to be a later night for us than we would've liked. But hey, it's our final evening in France.

John spoke to the accordion player who will accompany tonight's meal. He is going to play an English song just for us. Embarrassing! France we will miss you so much. But not the mosquitoes here. They're as large as small house flies and real biters. Hopefully all will run smoothly tomorrow, for now we intend to eat, drink and socialise.

Camping Municipal Le Rayonnement (day 3)

Today would probably be our last chance to get out and cycle a reasonable distance. We hadn't slept well though. Too hot, unbelievably too quiet and Angela was worried about us being able to board the fast TGV train with bikes and bags in the two minutes allowed. Tomorrow she is going to go through her bags and see if she can off load anything to lighten the load. Tonight will be our last night in the tent this trip, tomorrow morning we will move into the eco lodge opposite which will mean we do not need to deflate sleeping mats and pack up a wet tent in the dark early Thursday morning. Around twelve we pedalled off, stopping at the nearby supermarket to buy lunch before heading to the transborder (transporter) bridge to cross the estuary. There was a fifty minute wait until the service resumed after lunch, so we decided to pedal down further and take the passenger ferry across. Mistake. Ferry ceased running October 1st. So we cycled back to the transborder bridge just in time for the 2 pm crossing.

Before leaving the area we wanted to visit the nearby Atlantic coast. Even though we were here earlier in the year it just had to be done. After all we had cycled most of the 'between to seas' cycle route. The Mediterranean to the Atlantic.

Our destination was Port-des-Barque. Almost everywhere was closed, but Angela discovered a little supermarket in a back street and bought ice creams, cold cans of orangina and a large bar of mint chocolate to power us up for the return trip. The afternoon was once again warm. Just before six 30c. The last crossing on the transborder bridge was just before five, so we had little choice we had to take the cycle lane over the road bridge.

After six weeks of touring we have bodies of athlete's. Starting slowly our legs powered us up to the top.

The view was fantastic. It made us sad to think we'd have to leave soon. This evening as we sat in 'le bungalow', the communal room with television, seating and a kitchen, which we like to think is exclusively ours we thought what's to stop us returning in Marge in November? Our travel fund has taken a hammering, but hopefully saga insurance will pick up most of the bill. Life in France always seems simpler. The weather (at the moment is nicer), the quality and choice of food in the supermarket exceptional. We will be glad to return home and see our family, and of course there are always appointments and commitments to attend to, but besides that, what's really stopping us from just taking off again?

Camping Municipal Le Rayonnement (day 2)

Whilst breakfasting we talked with the lady we met from New Zealand yesterday evening, offering advice and information on her forward journey. That's two days running we've done this and each time have been held in high esteem for our knowledge and cycling.

After moving pitches to the pitch we refer to as ours (three times now) we washed some clothes and after Angela walked to the supermarket spent the afternoon sorting out our travel arrangements to come home. How long would that take? Hours! We appear to have found ourselves a little too far from Cherbourg. Rather than cycle further we have decided to stay here at Rochefort until Thursday. The weather forecast is not good with rain due all over France from Friday and with the difficulty to book us and the bikes on trains we're sadly returning home three days early. But hey, who wants to be stuck in a small wet tent? We can't complain, most of the time we've enjoyed good weather. Unlike last night there seems to be no cycle campers other than us.

We will stay in our tent here again tomorrow night and have booked an eco lodge for Wednesday night as we are booked on a train just after 6am to La Rochelle then transferring onto a TGV to Paris to pick up the train to Cherbourg to catch the 6.15pm ferry to Poole. We should be home around 10.30 pm (that's 11.30 pm to us being on French time). It's going to be a Long and stressful day! Over the next two days we will go out and cycle two circular routes.

We are eating to excess, tonight a bbq, so must keep moving.

(Our neighbours, luckily no Cockerell, don't worry girls it's burgers on the bbq tonight!) 

Camping Municipal Le Rayonnement, Rochefort

As expected music from the party on the campsite and another venue nearby disturbed us until the small hours. Annoying as it is we've learnt to sleep through it if not peacefully. Around eight this morning the grinding of suitcase wheels on tarmac woke us. During our stay at Bordeaux we learnt that these youngest were here with regard to the university. Probably an open day. Around eight last night a swedish cyclist arrived. This morning with no rush as our train wasn't until three forty seven, we spent quite a while talking to him. He's fit for sixty mentioned John. Angela had already noticed. In fact he was fifty eight, but let's not split hairs. He was on his first ever long distance cycling trip to southern Portugal where his brother lived. He'd actually arrived by train from Paris the night before. We informed him about the closure of campsites which he didn't realize about. At midday we all shook hands and wished each other a safe journey. We cycled back down to the waterfront.

A fallen tree lay across the cycle path. We hoped a cyclist hadn't been passing underneath when it fell. As always there were people everywhere. Bordeaux is really cosmopolitan, and we just love it. Thankfully the cruise ships were gone opening up the view down the river. A stop to buy lunch and food for this evening, and then we sat in the shade of the trees until it was time to head to the station. After our terrible trip on the train to Toulouse last Sunday we vowed not to take the train again at the weekend.

What were we doing? As expected the train was packed. As always the other passengers didn't welcome us with our bicycles. And as always the bike space was full of suitcases. Here we go again! By the time we reached our stop at Rochefort it became a free for all to leave the train despite John telling the passengers around the doors we would need to be able to get off. In the scrum Angela's bike caught her injured knee which had been healing nicely taking off an area of new skin. There was blood everywhere! Upon our arrival at the campsite, where the young security man couldn't understand English or Angela's French and basically said, no reservation, no camping. Behave man. Fortunately a young French woman came to our rescue and translated for us. We have stayed here twice before, once earlier this year and we know you can come on with a bicycle without booking. We're not happy with our allocated pitch, but it will do for now. Tomorrow we will request to move nearer the indoor room and kitchen. Visiting the Ile de Re is off. To cycle forty miles for a couple of days just to turn round and come back to catch another train from La Rochelle doesn't seem worth it. We just want to stay in the warmth for as long as we can, and it's plenty warm enough here, so we'll stay two nights. Tomorrow we will plan the next five days. We will book a ferry from Cherbourg to Poole for Sunday. Meanwhile Angela is worried about her knee. She has cleaned it with the iodine scrub prescribed by the hospital and will continue to do so for a few days. We feel sad we only have a few days of this trip left. This morning our swedish companion spoke some wise words. ' Not exploring the world, is like opening a book and only reading the first page'. We had to agree.

Yelloh! Village Camping, Bordeaux day 2

Oh what a night. From around four yesterday afternoon lots of young people began to arrive. We were a little concerned some of them may be placed in the lodges behind us. Fortunately not. All through the night until after two we could hear voices and the annoying dragging of suitcases on wheels passing near to our tent. To add to this motorbikes and cars could be heard racing along the roads outside the campsite. We have stayed here before at a weekend and never experienced the like. Security is in place here at the entrance all night which means it doesn't matter if you arrive late. We think the suitcase brigade were here for a exhibition or conference, possibly on tourism. But that's just a guess.

There is also a party on tonight in the Margaux suite. And somewhere in the area, as last Saturday we can hear loud bassy music. We expect another disturbed night.

We sound like a couple of right old moaners don't we? We spent the day washing and planning the next week. Trains are difficult to book and although we wanted to take one to La Rochelle tomorrow the tickets all sold out whilst we ate lunch. We are now booked on a mid afternoon train to Rochefort where we will stay overnight and then the next day cycle onto the Ile de Re after which we must take some trains to Cherbourg. The night sky is a clear inky black. We expect it to be cold. Today's temperature 28c, so cold nights are a small price to pay for beautiful days.

We're looking around for a smaller replacement for Marge, maybe something like this which we saw on the site, but an original older Land Rover Defender. 

Yelloh! Village Camping, Bordeaux

Angela slept for ten hours. Surprisingly we didn't ache from yesterday's exertion. We were just over twenty miles from Bordeaux. After a relaxed start, coffee and breakfast scratched together from the food we had available, it was nearly midday before we left. First stop Aldi to buy as much food as we could carry. Food shopping in Bordeaux is expensive. Apart from a slight gradient it was all downhill, thank goodness.

We had no need to rush and stopped along the way. John felt really sick, but after a drink of Agrumes, a fizzy tropical drink and some salted snacks he felt much better. Our approach to Bordeaux took us through an out of town shopping area where luckily there was a decathlon store. One of John's SPD clip in pedals was damaged and if not attended too could cause him to have an accident. Pedals bought we cycled into central Bordeaux.

The waterfront was busy. Two German cruise ships were berthed. They looked too big and totally out of place.

We sat by them to eat our salads. A German couple from one of the ships wanted to know all about our trip and were impressed we had no electric motor, just electric legs as Angela always says. We never tire of Bordeaux, this is our second visit this year. The campsite is quieter this time. We are the only cyclists. As the smell of cooking pizza wafted across our pitch the temptation was just too much. Our fried egg sandwiches could wait for another night. We've lost count how much pizza we've eaten. It must be doing us good, some how we survived yesterday's awful cycle. For now though we can relax. A couple of nights at Bordeaux before setting off on our final week. It's just after nine and France are playing Italy in the rugby world cup. The match is audible across the campsite. We are looking forward to a relaxed day tomorrow, no doubt it will involve clothes washing.