Yesterday we discovered some hills that I did not know Normandy boasted – and all varieties of Norman French weather, except snow.

Breakfast hail ceased, with Roger and I having fitted new inner-tubes, les quatre cyclistes d’apocalypse were foolishly enjoying the sunshine as we rode up la vallée de la Sée towards Brécey. Climbing out of Saint Pois, we discovered the first real hill of the day, and storm Barney’s north wind throwing rain into our faces. The descent towards Vire, and omellettes, frites was epic, as was the later descent towards a 5 pm espresso stop in Aunay-sur-odon – that one enlivened by the local fuzz flying downhill even faster, sirens ablaze.

Days like this call to mind warmer climes, and Madonna del Ghisallo, the Italian patroness of cyclists. 500 metres above Bellagio and Lake Como sits a chapel dedicated to the Madonna – atop a climb that has often featured as a stage finish on both the Giro di Lombardia and Giro d’Italia.

Inside, the chapel walls are hung with cycling memorabilia – including poignantly the twisted bike of Fabio Casartelli, the Lombardi cyclist who died in a crash on the 1995 Tour de France, and a jersey of gifted Italian climber Marco Pantani, who overdosed on harder drugs after testing positive for EPO.

In the evening sunshine outside the chapel, I met an Italian cyclist – still riding in lycra into his seventies, on an afternoon jaunt from Milan. I still remember the swooping descent to my evening port of Lecco.

Last night, espresso revived, we climbed out of Auney in the dark. Ricky’s friend Pierre’s light met us at the top of the hill, and guided us back to his Calvados farmhouse in Vacogues-Neuilly. Our patron has entertained us royally on our rest day.

This trip is proving to be a meteorological experience…Canon Lynda Barley’s blessing seemed to only work as far as Plymouth as the weather from Truro to Plymouth more or less good, compared to what the rest of Cornwall was getting at the time. We cycled off the ferry at St Malo into a driving drizzle first thing Friday morning and rode east along the coast, more or less, to the little village of Le Vivier-sur-Mer where, as it was noon and we we wet, we’d break for lunch. Two hours and three courses later, we were warm, dry, fed and watered and ready to get wet again. Setting off down the road, and stopping as we do at each junction to check direction, we found we were missing one of the four – Roger. No amount of texts and phonecalls could raise him, so the three of us pressed on to the town of Pontorson. Phoning and texting still failed to raise him, so decided that, after half an hour, we would continue to Avranches, our final destination for the day and, jus as we started out, Roger appeared! He’d had a puncture, which he’d mended, and his phone had been disconnected by his provider, hence the lack of communication. Ah, the wonders of technology, only to be scuppered by the phone providers! The rest of the ride took us within sight of Mont St Michel, then on to the ancient hill city of Avranche, where the final ride up the hill into the city was a real challenge. Then to our AirBnB where Luci welcomed us to the apartment right in the centre. Nearby launderette provided tumble driers for us to dry out our clothing, with a handy bar where we could drink in comfort and watch our clothes tumbling. Then to S Marco’s Pizza Place for, well, you guessed it, pizza! And so to bed….zzzzzz.

Roger has said it all – les quatre elements d’apocalypse ont presque gagne! Le vent, le froid, les collines et la pluie. Did we even contemplate giving up? NAH! Continue reading The latter end of Woe is Bliss →

Saturday dawns a nice bright day…until 09.00 when the rain-gods turn the tap on again. Ah-ha! We fooled them! We didn’t leave until 09.30, by which time the rain-gods had got fed-up with waiting for us to get under way and turned the tap off – for the moment! Hurtled downhill out of Avranches and turned off alongside a river to trace our way over minor roads in an easterly direction. Roger’s magical deflating tyre trick was getting to wear by this time – poor lad, he seems to have drawn the short (puncture straw)! Pleasant amble along river valley to village of Brecey, where it clouded over, wind picked up and occasional rain fell (horizontally). As we progressed onto higher ground, our hands, feet, and faces got wetter and colder, but pushed on to Vire, the halfway point where we stopped for lunch of omelette and chips at 14.00. Another hard push, albeit with the rain abating, across elevated granite plateau before an impressive 3.5km drop down into the town of Aunay-sur-Odon, where we stopped for a life-reviving coffee and shared (squashed) snack bars excavated from the bottom of my handlebar bag. The descent into Aunay was rendered slightly more dramatic by a gendarme car hurtling past us on an emergency call (probably that his dinner was ready). The last stretch in the gathering gloom necessitated cycle lamps. We must have been 5km form our host’s place when we saw a cyclist coming the other way – what other mad individual was out on a bike at this time of night? It was our host, come to meet us and guide us in to his residence! Thus we arrived at Ricky’s friends, Pierre and Bea, place, at 19.00, tired, wet, cold, but relieved to have made it – just over 90km! Hot showers, hot supper, warm friendship, warm bed – what more could four weary cyclists want? Merci beaucoups, Bea et Pierre!

You can tell we are having a day of touristy relaxation, with this plethora of items from your trusty riders. So at least this Blog page is ACTIVE!

This is what I had intended to add on the first day – what a fantastic send off from Barnstaple Square. Thanks to Val, the Mayor, Julie her deputy, Des, NDC leader and Dick his environment portfolio holder. Thanks to Seth from ITV, to Tony from the Gazette and Fran from the Journal. Thanks to supporters Steve, Dick, John, Mike – and others I’ve forgotten (I hope someone has the photos so I can check later); and of course to my intrepid fellow cyclists who actually managed to get further than the end of the Long Bridge! To L’Anne, to Claire and her partner all the way from Crediton, Andy (BLESS ‘im – cos he did for my bike! – apart from which he insisted on being my wind break for the first hour – and I needed it!)), to Paul, Ollie (from the SU at Petroc), Michelle, to my fellow Bikeability trainer Jo (I just managed to keep up with her). Photos are ‘dribbling’ in from various sources – here I am the following day at Plymbridge – the smile is genuine enough, cos I ‘m nearly there – only rush-hour on the A38 to Saltash to contend with …….

The picture below is the sodden welcome at Tavistock after Hugh (on the right) and I had hurtled down the hill from Mary Tavy into the town centre to meet friends from the West Devon Greens. I had to pour water out of my shoes and was pretty fogged as to how I could manage to carry on  to Plymouth. So I waddled down into the market and found a launderette. Took my chance, having politely asked the ladies there if they minded – yup, they giggled a bit – only one person in there at the time and she giggled a bit too. So I stripped to my undies and everything went in, shoes, gloves, rucksack an’ all – for a good 20 minutes – while I attempted to warm my feet up on the glass of the drier. I s’pose it was quite funny – a bit like that 11 o’clock ‘coke’ ad – but customers didn’t really seem to have a fit …….. and to be honest, I couldn’t care! Mind you, if I’d been 30 years younger, there might have been some action.

Message to all cyclists: the new route from Tavy to Plymouth is just fantastic – even the haul up to Yelverton through the woods – stunning. Has to be done. But this is offset by the confusing options around Lydford – which still seem all wrong. No worries – made it!

After our two days of wet, windy wending our way eastwards, we had the luxury of spending Sunday with our hosts Pierre and Bea at their lovely farmhouse and gite. It had rained much of the night but the morning dawned dry and clear. After a leisurely breakfast Pierre drove us into Caen to visit the Memorial Museum of WWII, an impressive and well thought out presentation as to how 1914/18 set the stage for WWII. No heroics, but just sober assessment of not just the fighting, but more difficult issues such as the business of collaboration with the enemy, resistance movements, etc. No glorification. And it didn’t end there, as there was a gallery devoted to the Normandy Landings, as one might expect, and also about what happened after 1945. It rang so true especially considering our apparent headlong plunge into war once again, this time with Syria. “When will they ever learn?” as the song goes….

Pierre picked us up and brought us back for a late lunch of lovely homemade soup, bread and cheese. Then we hosed down our bikes with a jetwash to remove the mud. dried them and oiled them ready for the road tomorrow. A rest followed, then supper and bed – tomorrow, back on the road!

Monday 23 November – sunshine filtered through a heavy mist onto the frost-touched grass. A fine day! Breakfasted packed and on the road before 09.00, pedalling into cold misty countryside, but at least it was dry! Crossed the River Orne and headed more or less east, weaving around various country roads to make sure we did not get on to any of the busy main roads.As we were on the Plain of Caen, the hills were not quite as steep and the valleys were more gentle, which made for very pleasant cycling. Even by midday we were still spending some of our time in freezing mist, then emerging into sunny patches. One of the nicest stretches was after a 1-2km ride up a hill then through a beautifully managed woodland of sweet chestnut, oak, beech and other deciduous trees where a huge buzzard lazily flapped its way ahead of me, then perched on a branch to get a better look at me; deciding I was inedible, it then drifted off into the woods! Arrived into the town of Lisieaux at 15.30, checked into our AirBnB which was in a fourth storey 1960s apartment – luxury of luxuries, we each had our own bedroom with a double bed (which explained why it was the most expensive of the B+Bs). Set out to explore the town, including visiting the relatively new (20thC?) Basilica with an impressive dome and attractive modern frescoes adorning the walls. Lit a candle for peace. Shopped for provender then returned to our billet for home-made supper of bread, cheese, pastries and wine. Continue reading Sunshine Supermen! →

Oliver of Tonic Attack not only very generously sponsored us but also provided a load of sachets of wheatgrass juice to fuel us across France.

I must admit when Ewan first distributed them in Saltash I was a little sceptical. I had been expecting a bottle to have a swig from periodically, but these are little sachets each containing 33ml to be taken one per day. Continue reading The joys of wheatgrass →

After a day’s respite France continues to throw its plus mauvais temps at us in an attempt to thwart our attempts to reach Paris, but we will not be daunted.

Today started with spitting when I went out in the pre dawn to fetch the breakfast croissants, by the time we left it was light rain which progressed to heavy drizzle with a biting Southwesterly before easing to a mere mizzle by mid afternoon.

Continue reading Rainy day, dream away… →