JOURNEYS END APPROACHES

Edi, Mick and myself on Blade.

Life is ever changing.

My journey in the South of France has been of a different kind.

When I was no longer enjoying myself, I changed tack for an easier experience.

My bike has remained packed in its case. I just couldn't face putting it back together to cycle this very beautiful but hectic, hot and mountainous region. I was finally over lugging such huge weight along. Bike and trailer have  been shipped back to England.

I had tried and failed to book my rig onto trains simply because the number I rang kept coming up invalid despite emailing Euro Rail and asking at stations. It can be done, I just didn't manage to organize it. Anyway, the steps onto some of the French trains are steep and narrow and would have been impossible for me to navigate with all of my gear.

Prompted and nudged along when I wilted, by my son Mick I have explored this gorgeous south coast by bus, on foot and by train, still staying in YHA known as Auberge de Jeunesse. Most bus trips are 1 euro. Public transport is very good here and I have taken the opportunity to visit picturesque villages in the mountains.

Sospel

I do find English speakers and also manage a few simple French conversations although today as I write this I have crossed into Italy and hardly understand a word beyond Bon Giorno and Ciaou!

 I had a wonderful time when I visited Manosque, Provence staying with Helene who I met in Scotland and her husband Fred.

 Swimming across Lake Vandanne at night together under the full moon was so excellent. Whilst there, I rode Helene's bike and visited neighbouring villages. We were so at ease and happy together it will be a shame not to spend more time together.

Helene and Fred organized for me to journey along a spectacularly scenic river valley through the mountains from Digne to Nice in a single carriage old train. It was a wonderful journey.

 In the many old sections of France, the narrow streets, fountains and colourful markets all have so much character and history. It is so interesting to just wander along exploring and exchanging bright greetings of " bonjour madame ". I love seeing so many piano accordians being played at the al fresco cafes which are so numerous here. I am appalled however to find that cigarette and cigar smoking seem to be THE national past time of the great majority!


I spent a week in gorgeous Menton.

There are always a few beggars in every town, hopefully holding out their cups whilst their cigarette pack is in view !  I prefer to donate to the buskers, at least they are entertaining.

Aix en Provence

The French love to honk their horns loud and long! One charming bus driver stopped to let every lady cross the road but honked frequently, gesticulated at and  furiously berated  all whose driving tactics met with his disapproval as we ascended the twisting narrow road to the plateau of Saint Michel. The hills were so steep that the houses appeared to be painted onto the hillsides and I wondered how it was possible to gain access to them..

!2th Century hilltop village of Eze

It has been marvellous to spend part of 3 weekends with Mick and Edi.

We toured the Royal Palais and the Oceanographique Musee. We have dined out and walked all over hills and waterfront.

 Our highlight was attending the Monaco Boat Show with complimentary tickets. As Mick knew crew on other boats and suppliers on the stands, we were offered glasses of wine and were privileged to look through one of the multimillionaire motor yachts 11.9 million euro actually!  

( http://www.edmistoncompany.com/luxury-yachts-for-sale/marion-queen-276/ )They are such unbelievably opulent toys.

Riding in the tender from the harbour out to the anchorage off Monaco around all of the mega yachts at dusk was a magical treat. As it grew dark the whole area was “asparkle” with a blaze of bright lights. Wow!

Swimming in the warm Mediterranean is superb. I have become expert at changing discreetly under my towel on the "beach" of stones. The water sparkles in the warm sunshine as I swim leisurely laps up and down. Plenty of eye candy! The funniest were a couple of emaciated, sun crisped old blondes with perfect smooth, brown globes sprouting out above their boney ribs!

Menton

Swimming at Menton

I am on the fast train to Rome, arriving tonight for 3 nights. I have two days to discover the world famous landmarks.

Afterwards I will take the train to La Spezia to meet Mick and farewell Edi for now. Mick and I will do a whirlwind walking driving sightseeing trip back to collect my bag at La Ciota and fly out from Marseille on Saturday. Mick will fly to Turkey to join a new boat and I to England to farewell Pam and Harry and fly home from Heathrow on Monday. Ooh I can hardly wait.

Despite being in such a fantastic, world renowned holiday resort I have lacked purpose and direction. There are still very few people that I can converse with. Whilst cycling, the planning and effort of biking from A - B, following a planned route and sightseeing as I went had kept me motivated.

 It is almost 7 months since I left Australia and the people that I love most in the world.

 Enough wandering alone!

I am ready to return.

P.S Rome is another story…coming…Wow!.....Glad I was still over here to experience it.

The French Disconnection

I definitely left my fearless Amazon coat at home when I crossed the Channel to France!

I have felt very isolated much of the time on account of the fact that I am unable to chat my way along in my usual fashion! I quite lost the plot for a while and felt the threads that are pulling me back home to Oz growing stronger by the minute. This lone traveller has had enough.

Day two started out with my rear brake dragging on the tyre. I found a small car park in the French village with it narrow streets to upend my bike and have a fiddle with things. It took quite a while for me to sort it out by which time it was raining.

Undeterred off I rode up the steep hill and set out for Caen. The wind was up and driving the rain into my face. Oh well. You get that! I loved the old French buildings and the colourful flowers, I jut wished the wind and rain would go away.

When you have no common language it is hard to find the basic necessities of life." Ou est la toilette?" Yes that got through but the complicated stream of explanations just left me with my legs crossed and non the wiser.

Eventually to my relief I found a toilet on a deserted wind swept beach front. I have since ducked behind hedges, sneaked into farmers fields and given a quick scan for people or stinging nettles and voila, mission accomplished.

Head tucked in to avoid wind and rain it was not the time for photos or even enjoying the scenery. I stopped and sat under a tree for shelter, to boil up a hot cuppa and have some lunch. An Italian traveller spotted me. He was very charming although he spoke only a few English words. My home! He showed me....and mine, I gestured to my bike and trailer. His was the more colourful! We were fascinated with each other!

I battled on to the Caen Auberge de Jeunesse YHA. It was a good night with a fun Aussie lady of about my age, a Welsh girl and a young French/Egyptian archaeologist who also spoke good English.

Rolling hills to Saint-Lo. Enormously strong winds and showers again. I stayed with French Warm Showers Hosts. At first we were hesitant but Daniel, Joelle and Loren were very warm, friendly and helpful and made me very welcome. By the time we were dining and sharing a wine or two we were laughing and having a great time.

Loren, Joelle and Daniel

Saint-Lo

It is a pity that all of the other hosts that I contacted were unavailable as I find that I need the personal contact to keep my spirits up when travelling alone. Unable to communicate with anyone along the way, together with a week of extremely vigorous wind driving me backwards as I tried so hard to keep the peddles turning with my trailer increasing the required effort and wet through as well, my spirits were flagging seriously. Was this fun?  It didn't feel like it.

Saint-Lo to Genet was more of the same. Another 70kms which felt like 170kms. I hadn't eaten well either as I could not find gluten free carbs. I stopped at Gavray and had a delicious omelette, jambons et fromage with frites and salad and that helped a lot.

Straight afterwards my navigator directed me on a "shortcut" that went straight up from the Sienne river and up and up through twisting lanes. This was my worst "dog chasing day". Oh Boy! Those farmer keep some huge and fearsome canines. I was terrified that they would manage to get through or over the fences. Only one did and I swung my leg over from my bike out of the way as it came at me.

Road works when I was nearly there almost did me in. A large detour! I had struggled so hard just to move forward into the wind and now they wanted me to do an extra big circuit! Oh no, I just can't ride any further. I peered through the rain for a while. Eventually I dragged bike and trailer through the mud and debris along the side edge of the road works. One of the worker gave me "a Look" but when I apologised in English he let me go on. Luckily the rain was heavy, it hid the few tears I shed...I was close to the edge.

A rest day at Genet hostel with one helpful Canadian to converse with revived my energy. I cleaned the road sludge off my bike rims and chain. It had all been scraping as I rode along.

The Parisienne guests, a group of 8 were all very friendly. We used a mix of English and French words and gestures to communicate. I do actually have quite a large vocabulary of French words. I just get struck dumb when I front up to ask for something and cannot think of any of them.

Mont Saint Michel is an impressive sight! It towered up in front of me as I cycled out along the causeway. I saw it when I was 9 year old on a day visit from Jersey. It was well worth a second look. An old 13th Century Abbey that has been added to century by century.

I rode on to Pontorson Auberge de Jeunesse where an exceptionally personable young lad from San Fransisco and I "found each other". We were both desperate for a good lively full on chat. A self confessed son of hippie parents he was a delightful dinner companion in the hostel dining room.

Next day, still in the rain and sweating inside my raincoat I rode another 70kms to Rennes. Another big city to cycle in!

I was planning to go to La Loire and ride up the valley. A friend of Margaret who I met in Scotland was going to meet me there. Paul was in a motor home and spoke French. Unfortunately I let him down as overnight my plans completely changed.

My son Mick and I spoke on Skype. I was quite emotional and Mick pushed hard for me to join him at La Ciotat on the south coast of France. He badly wanted me to see his work environment and I badly needed some family contact.

Frantic efforts on the internet and finally I flew down, bike and all to Marseille. Mick and Edi, his girlfriend managed to get some time off and met me at the airport in the ships car. Mick is Ship Engineer and Edi Chief Stewardess on Blade a luxury motor yacht.

Edi and Mick

Mick has put me up in The Rose hotel for 3 days. What a treat. The 3 of us have been sightseeing this stunning area. Wow it is beautiful. The beaches are gorgeous, the swimming is absolutely magic and I can gaze up at the rocky backdrop as I backstroke through the water.

So wonderful to be with loved ones again.

OMG

 What an intro to France!

The Channel crossing was flat as a tack. I experienced a tiny moment of fame as I rode proudly onto the ferry beside a couple on a Harley Davison whilst the cars waited for us to board.  I was first off as well.

Then everything deteriorated.

Ready to go, I turned on my trusty navigator….NO MAPS… what the…?  I tried every setting. No luck. Oh well I could picture the map in my head and I had a map book…should be easy peasy… Wrong!

Cycling out of the busy city of Le Havre without a detailed map was a nightmare.

I tried to ask directions. The people were willing but the language issue blurred the directions to the point where I found myself on the M5 Motorway.  A definite BAD MOVE. To add to my difficulty there was construction work going on, large concrete barriers made it one narrow lane, dipping under bridges and uphill again with me fresh off the ferry busting myself to keep ahead of the honking shouting car drivers. Oh dear!

It was a long time before I was able to scurry off an exit to an industrial zone. I almost moved to the left hand side of the road at an intersection but just caught myself in time. After asking directions again…all in French but I managed to catch some familiar words and was able to repeat them with much nodding and gesturing on both sides I then rode off the wrong way!

The man yelled and gestured some more and I was on track. It was very hot.

Aha at last I found the velo route. Hooray. I cycled up the estuary past scattered parked cars. The local were all out blackberry picking on the roadside. I stopped and ate a few as well. Yum Yum

The first bridge was a huge high rise structure. It would have been like climbing a mountain to ride up it. It was part of the motorway though and not available to cyclists. Onwards I rode, upstream to Le Pont Tancarville. 

I stopped and chatted with a German cyclist who was also struggling to find his route. It was quite a complex bit of road construction. We were going in opposite directions so were able to help each other a little.

It was quite a climb over the bridge and I daren’t wobble as the cars were skimming closely by. Two French gentlemen gave me a clap at the top and another couple took my picture as I passed.

I found my way to the very picturesque village of Honfleur. It was wonderfully old world French.

I went into a shop to buy a little food for a night in a camp park. I picked up some fruit and then was busy trying to understand what was in the packets and cans when the shop assistant approached all hot and bothered. “ Vous manger la pomme” she said accusingly. I had absent mindedly pulled out my half eaten apple from my back pocket and was having a couple of bites. She thought I was stealing it from her shop. Luckily it still had the English sticker on. I never thought I would be so glad to have a sticker on my fruit. She was very apologetic but there were some sticky moments.

I enjoyed the next scenic bit but it was getting late. Riding up over the headland I twice detoured about 3 – 4 kilometers following the signs to a camp park. I didn’t find either one. 

By this time it was raining heavily, was 6.30 pm and the light was fading fast. I had my rear light flashing. I was getting very anxious so after asking directions once again I found myself in a hotel for the night. Better than a tent given the weather but very expensive and very basic. I trailed so much water in that I asked for a mop. I think I got a few brownie points there.

There are no tea making facilities in my room. I would kill for a cuppa or a glass of wine but I was showered and into my pyjamas before I noticed the lack. A bright idea came to me. I went and got my camp stove and was just about to light up when I remembered smoke detectors. Thank goodness I thought of that in time. I probably would have been kicked out of the hotel.

I have a long sausage for a pillow. At least it is cuddly!

The toilet is a shared one!

Tomorrow will be better I know.

I have managed to download my maps for a start. All I really need now is to be able to communicate more easily.

I wrote this to get it all off my chest to all of you.

Good night all. I should sleep well now.