So, to pick up where I left off, I packed my bags ready to go last Tuesday, before realising that I didn't have a map or directions to Poole. As we don't have internet at our house, this was quite a problem. So this put me into a mild state of panic, which continued into the morning as I loaded up my bike and set off. I had made the journey before, though I wasn't sure I trusted my memory to guide me in the right way. I thought I'd wing it anyway, the worse case scenario being that I would be stuck in England another day. I set off into the lame kind of drizzle that Bristol likes to produce, and Bristol soon gave way to Somerset and the rolling hills of the Mendips, which left me quite exhausted, though the weather did seem to ease up, and the sun even began to shine. It seemed that after each small village there was a steep hill, before the ground gave way to leave me coasing toward the next village. I found my way to the B3081, which took me to Dorset, where the hills are much more forgiving than in Somerset, though what Dorset lacked in hills it more than made up for in headwinds. It was at this point that my memory began to grow a little hazy. I recognised a few of the town names on the signposts, but I had to fill in a few gaps here and there, hoping I was heading in the right direction. I eventually made it to Poole, which gave me a boost in morale that could not be dampened even by a burst of heavy rain, and made my way to the ferry port. I boarded the ferry, 8 hours after leaving, knowing I was leaving the comfort of the English language, along with the get out of jail free card that is a quick train ride home.
I arrived at Saint-Malo at 10.15 local time, and set up camp. I found a bar in which all the customers were English, some guys were cycling around France, another two were motorbiking. The bars in France are a bit weird; they're like cafés in the day, and bars at night time, all the while selling cigarettes and Loto tickets. I think they should make their minds up and be one or the other.
On Thursday I managed to find a computer to see if my potential host, Arnaud, had got back to me, so that I had somewhere to stay in Rennes. I had my breakfast in the same bar as before, and I have to say that the French don't really know how to do breakfast. A croissant consists mostly of air, with a little bit of pastry. You can't eat air for breakfast, not if you have to cycle 90km that day. I had hoped to catch a bit of the Tour de France that day, as I was told I would be crossing it's path. However, it took me about an hour to actually get out of Saint-Malo. After leaving the actual city, it was a lovely bike ride, though blemished a little by a few showers of rain.
I reached Rennes at about 7pm, where I was met by Arnaud, who was fantastic company. He gave me a warm shower and cooked a bolognaise, and he also liked good music. That evening we visited Rennes, which is a nice mediaeval city dotted with modern buildings. There was a free music festival in a garden, where we saw the bizzarity that is Guz II (www.myspace.com/guzdeux).
Friday morning I left with the intention of making it to Nantes (115km), which was quite a nice ride, though it was very windy, with strong headwinds all the way. It also took me a while to leave Rennes as I got a little lost. At the town of Pléchatel, a lady pointed me the way to go, and as I rode on she was at every crossroad waving frantically in the right direction, until we parted ways near Guipry-Messac. Soon after, I left Bretagne to find myself in the Pays de la Loire. Less people spoke English at this point, but I have come to recognise a few words (gauche, adroit, etc). At this point it went a bit tits up. It started bucketing down with rain at about 6km from Héric, where I knew there was a campsite, so I thought I'd stop there to find somewhere cheap. There were no hostels, the hotels were expensive, and I didn't want to set up my tent in the rain and have to spend the night in a wet tent. I resigned myself to staying at the campsite anyway, as I would only have the same problem in Nantes, and that would be after another 30km cycling. So then my tent poles decided to snap. The campsite owner, however, informed that a few of the tents were empty, so that I didn't have to be homeless for the night. I then drank some wine and had some dinner, and talked to a nice French couple, Frank et Fleur. They offered me a home for the night, but as I had already dumped my things in a tent, and I wanted to have a bit of a lay in, I declined.
Saturday was supposed to be my day off in Nantes, but I was 30km away, about the same distance from Bristol to Bath, so I cycled there, for a nice two hours, and began looking for a place to stay. After much deliberating over expensive hostels and campsites, I bought a new tent for 25 euro and stayed in a campsite in St Luce sur Loire. It was brilliant campsite, costing about 9 euro, and with a free glass of wine for every cyclist. I set up my tent, next to some Belgian guys, Niels, Jan and Joric (I don't know if they're spelt right), who were playing fantastic games such as 'throw the bottle'. It's pretty self-explanatory; it consists of throwing a bottle, and quite a bit of drinking. So we threw the bottle for a good three hours, and getting through a good few Cara-Pils.
I woke up the next day and immediately decided not to ride that day. But it got to around 2pm and I felt a bit better, contacted some people in La Roche-sur-Yon, and changed my mind. It was probably the best decision of the trip so far. The weather was at its best at around 5pm, and the ride was through some lovely villages and vinyards (the first vinyards of seen on the trip so far). Sunday is very strange in France as everything is closed, even the big supermarkets. But in some villages you can see window shutters wide open, families sitting at their tables for dinner. I arrived in La Roche at about 9pm, and met up with Laura et Mat, who I am staying with now before setting off tomorrow. Laura and Mat let me eat at their house last night and I will stay there tonight before heading to La Rochelle, which Laura and Mat have recommended as great city to stay in.
So in 5 days cycling I have made it roughly 385km, and almost halfway down the west coast of France. My overall impression of France so far is that drivers are very forgiving to cyclists, and most people I have met are very supportive people.
Au revoir,
Au revoir,
Sean
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