May 21 – 27, 2023

Sunday, May 21 (Day 61). After twelve straight days of cycling, today was a much appreciated day of rest. Anne, Sharon and I each spent time doing our own thing. Then, we spent hours talking, sharing stories, and learning more about this fascinating couple. A decade ago, while their children were still young, Anne and Marcellin took a year sabbatical to travel around the world…literally around the world! They used public transport in each of the countries they visited. Their home is filled with intriguing photos from their journey. Anne even wrote a book about their adventure, which, alas, is in French. Fortunately, we had the author all to ourselves to hear about that trip, and many of their other travels first hand.

After talking to Anne and Marcellin, and sharing some of our own stories – it struck me. In the last few years we’ve met dozens of cyclists who have traveled to the corners of the globe. Missing from all their stories was any mention of dangerous or scary encounters. Instead, every traveler has their favorite stories about gifts of food and drink, invites into people’s homes, help with problems, and countless other acts of kindness and generosity. We can add our own experiences to the list. These are not fools unconcerned about safety, or Pollyanas blindly wishing away danger. From the “safety” of the living room, too many believe the worst about the world. I believe these collective experiences prove Aldous Huxley’s observation, “To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries.” And from Shirley Maclaine, “Fear makes strangers of those who would be friends.” I’ll let you draw your own conclusions. These are just a few random thoughts from a former strangers house in the south of France.  

Monday, May 22 (Day 62). Being Monday, our world traveler friends had more mundane travel to accomplish. Anne to her high school teaching job and Marcellin to his engineering job with Airbus. We chose to travel on the #365 bus into Toulouse with a list of sights to see. They were worth seeing. The Garonne river front. A thousand year old altar in an even older church. The depiction on an altar of the bull that dragged an early martyr to his death. The street also named after that same bull. Narrow streets. Grand squares and promenades.

The day ended in true French fashion. Sharing a meal, wine, leftover champagne (thank you Jean Bernard and Celine!), a tiny glass of  “calvados (sneaky, wicked Normandy home brew), and once again, stimulating conversation. The late hour at which we retired was proof of a good time had by all.

Tuesday, May 23 (Day 63). Anne and Marcellin are why we travel. Well, not them specifically, but people like them. They are curious about the world and curious about people. They have been the recipients of generosity and freely return the favor. Time spent with them, and people like them, is both relaxing and uplifting. Thus, while we were sad to pedal away, we were also re-energized and excited to be on the road again. Merci beaucoup!

In the interest of time, we chose an hour train ride to Auch to save a day of riding. Initially we thought of Auch only as the end of the train ride. Turned out to be much more than that.

The train assist allowed us to reach the town of Condom. Yes, you read that correctly. Snicker away. The name is from ancient Gaullic and apparently means a market at a confuence of streams. We plan on seeing the town itself tomorrow. Today, we enjoyed the sunny warm weather in the Condom Campground.

Wednesday, May 24 (Day 64). After breakfast, narrow country lanes took us north to the Canal du Garonne. This canal is the prettier, younger sister of the Canal du Midi. One hundred plus year old Plane trees line the Canal. The trail alongside the canal is smooth pavement compared to the rough gravel along much of the Canal du Midi. Without much effort, we put fifty miles behind us.

Today we had no destination in mind. About the time we decided we were “done” a random campground appeared. We took a flyer and ended up at a farm/campground in amongst the pigs, goats, donkeys, and cows. The shower was bog-standard ancient caravan (in American English, a tiny shower in a tattered, old camp trailer). The couple who seemed to own the place were friendly enough. She walked us through knee-high grass to a spot next to the goat pen and disappeared. No registration. No money changed hands. It’s a lovely setting, just a bit odd.

Thursday, May 25 (Day 65). We entered our tent last night with plans to continue cycling toward Bordeaux. We left our tent this morning with train tickets to Bordeaux, and tickets to Tours tomorrow. Turns out the world is a big place. We travel slowly. And perhaps, more pertinent, the clock is tick – tick – ticking. It would be impossible to see even a fraction of what we’d like to see in the three -ish weeks we have left in France. Time to fast forward again.

Bordeaux is an elegant city, often called “Little Paris.” Locals scoff and suggest Paris should be called “Big Bordeaux!” It has the usual colorful history. Rome, Goths, Visigoths, France, England and a host of minor players all held power at one point or another. Bordeaux and all Acquitane were actually English territory for almost three hundred years. Thank you Eleanor d’ Acquitane. Look her up. She is a fascinating individual.

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After our guided walking tour, Aussie Paul invited us for drinks. What a hoot! He is currently motorcycling around Europe (among other things) and was the source of one hilarious story after another. If we ever get Down Under, he has motorcycles and a sailboat he’s willing to share. Hmmmm.

Friday, May 26 (Day 66). We’ve been boasting about the French train system for weeks now. We were looking forward to another painless segment on our march north. Imagine our surprise at being booted off and left standing on the quai as the train pulled out of the station. We had arrived on time. We had our tickets. Our bikes, however, were not welcome! We had failed to book passage for our trusty steeds! Thus the stern “NOT possible!” as we were shown the door. Well – shoot!

This led to a very pleasant chat with the one english speaking ticket agent. She tried every combination of trains and destinations in the French rail system to get us north. All to no avail. We finally booked passage as far as La Rochelle. Then with a wink and conspiritorial whisper, she suggested we play dumb tourist and stay on the train beyond La Rochelle to our original destination.

We were tempted, and it probably would have worked. In the end, we played it straight and rolled off at La Rochelle. Less than a mile from the station, we added our tent to the dozen other cyclist tents in a fun municipal campground close to the Ocean Atlantique. So far, we’ve met Rose, a young lady from Holland on her 3rd solo cycling journey. Steph and Aaron from New Zealand are hard-core travelers. They have a deep well from which to draw stories. I’ll share just one. Having made a spur of the moment decision to buy a well loved and well-used Land Rover, they made the obvious decision to drive from Morocco to South Africa. I mean, what else would you do with a Land Rover? We’re looking forward to some adult beverages and more story time tomorrow night as well.

Saturday, May 27 (Day 67). One bad experience has not put us off train travel. With a slightly more careful eye for details, we think we’ve booked passage to Tours on Sunday afternoon. That means two days in La Rochelle. We spent our Saturday “rest day” exploring Ile de Re. The island is criss-crossed with cycle paths connecting charming (touristic) villages. It is a cyclists dream, especially for us without the weight of our gear.

Back at camp, our impromptu circle of new friends grew to include Muriel (France) and Roy (Ireland). The beer, stories, and laughter flowed freely into the evening. It was magic. I’ll say it again, it is what makes cycle touring so special. So, thank you Anne, Marcellin, Paul, Steph, Aaron, Rose, Roy, and Muriel for giving us the gift of your time and sharing your journey and stories. Until next week…STC!