Our final ride. And wouldn’t you know it, there’s a Voies Verte between Dinan and St Malo.
We had to walk our bikes out of Dinan as the cobbled lane was so steep and precarious. Especially bad with cleats on. But we made it down to the port. It’s a port town because of the river Rance which goes all the way out to the coast at St Malo. As we started our ride, April somehow got it in her head that she could take a boat down the river, but luckily that thought seemed to float away.
Exquisite morning riding along the river. Not much development right outside of Dinan. Just us and the river. One could easily imagine Robin Hood jumping out of the trees at any moment.
But it didn’t last, after a few miles the VV curved inland to follow the old train tracks. Even for me, a confirmed VV heretic, the route was rich and rewarding. Rolling countryside. Farms and fields. Tiny towns. The abandoned railways stations. The VV was in good shape, a harder surface than the previous VV so we rolled along at a pretty good clip. As we were headed to the coast it was more downhill than uphill.
We were heading for Dinard which was west of St Malo. The two towns are linked by a bridge across the bay created from the river Vance and the ocean. The guidebooks suggested taking the 10 minute ferry ride across rather than crossing the busy bridge. Dinard was supposed to a be sophisticated Brit vacation spot.
Sure enough Dinard was over the top. Those Brit aristocrats sure weren’t afraid of worrying “how the poor people were doing today“. There’s the most amazing collection of stone manors along the coast that we had ever seen. Clearly each owner/structure aimed to outdo its neighbor. Fantastic turrets, domes, arches, tile work, gorgeous slate patterns. Really magnificent. Monster houses, 4-5 stories high, all with huge windows looking out to the sea. Incredibly steep roof lines to give them even more height. This all happened in the late 1800s and Dinard became known as the Nice of the North.
April declared a deep, intimate relationship with the area immediately. She felt she had been there before. It was in her blood. Ahh these anglophiles; good thing there’s some strong Greek peasant blood added to the mix.
We checked out the beach, I suggested a café for lunch, April didn’t like it so we pressed on. Near the main beach April suggested a Brit looking type of place. I rode past it, she stopped, I came back and read the menu and vetoed it cause the food looked terrible and no ambience/view. So now we’re both put out, thinking the other vetoed our personal choices. But since I had vetoed last I was at a slight strategic disadvantage. Her veto seems to have been forgotten, the pressure was now on me to make sure we hit a good café and soon. (Yes unfortunately after 3 weeks on the road 24/7, this behavior seems normal). We ride a few blocks, nothing, I’m starting to sweat a little now, then we turn down the road to the harbor, voila!, a delightful little café, beautiful view out to the harbor, an outside table opens up as we pull in! Turns out the food is superb, April has a nice baked cod dish, I have the special - fried red mullet? Some nice wine, warm sun, we linger over tea. We’re the last ones to leave. Better to be lucky than good!
We catch the ferry after a 10 minute wait. Hit St Malo. And it seems PACKED! There’s an old walled city, We’re wandering around with our bikes. Both uncomfortable as there are too many people. We exit to find the Tourist Info place. We find that our hotel is away from the old city. Hmm. But we end up in a purely local’s beach, great little hotel. Sea view. Clean. 3 fantastic locals seafood restaurants within 2 blocks. We hit the jackpot here. Shower. A late afternoon beer in the smokey café. Then a nice seafood dinner. Then hit the sack. Great day. We’re loving this location in St Malo.
BTW - I got another showing of April’s bug bites at the end of the day.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Dinan
Today and tomorrow are really short rides (15-20 miles) as we had to arrange our schedule around the available hotels in Dinan and St Malo, two of the most interesting and thus crowded towns we’ll hit.
Dinan is the best preserved medieval town in Brittany. In the 9th century some monks settled on a hill on the banks of the Rance river. The first Breton king, Nominoe, promised them some land and certain priveleges if they founded a monastery there which would include the remains of some saint. Any saint? Who knows. So these enterprising monks snuck over to an island named Sercq, stole the freaking remains of Saint Magloire, showed up with their prize possession and got their land, thus the region first became settled. What a bunch of wanksters. Perhaps the ten commandments hadn’t reached the shores of Breton by that time.
Anyway the town started to grow. In 1065 William the Conqueror had some skirmish here and torched the defensive wooden enclosures; this event is captured on some Bayeux tapestry. History on tapestry!
In the 12th century the Arab geographer, Idrisi, reported the town was an important trading center and it was now enclosed by stone walls.
In 1283, they added ramparts and the town played a more significant military role. The wall continued to get built for the next 300 years, and reached 2650 meters in length.
In 1488 the French troops defeated the Bretons, but not before the Bretons managed to demolish their church so the French couldn’t use it. That’ll show ‘em. The church was later rebuilt inside the Wall.
A whole bunch of inter-royal marriages occurred in the 1500s and thus ensured that Brittany would become part of France. Voila.
Back to present day…..
After an easy morning ride we got to Dinan and rode around until we found our hotel. It looked empty, April pulled on the doors but they seemed locked, so we went for lunch. We ate at an Italian place for lunch (pizza, lasagna) then tried the hotel again, around 2:30. Still locked but it looked like there was a guy in there. Sure he came to the door and just pulled it inwards and it opened. No skills! It was always opened but the doors pushed in, not pulled out. Feeling slightly sheepish, yet thrilled it was opened, we checked in. Great room, especially in comparison to the box from last night. The Tiger was happy - so I was happy. Will nothing ever change?
Showered, chilled then went for a late afternoon walk. The town was fantastic. Old half-timbered houses everywhere. Great little alleyways. Lots of galleries and restaurants. All cobbled streets. We went to look at the church but had to run out because I had to crap. Ran out and found a public toilet within a minute or so. We’re really getting good at scoping them out, know just where they’ll be. As usual I was much more pleased by being inside of a bathroom rather than a church.
Then we found a perfect café and sat for tea/coffee while watching the world go by. Lots of tourists here. Too many for us. We used to being off the beaten path. This was the most crowded place of the trip so far. It started to drizzle, but we were under an umbrella, the streets cleared and we felt wonderfully isolated, strangely surreal because of the architecture, yet happy and settled.
Stopped at a Moules place for dinner. They had about 20 different moules variations. I had Moules Curry and it was 800gr and served in a cast-iron pot so it stayed hot the entire time. That’s critical. April had an omelette/frites. Then we hit he sack in our nice, clean, quiet room. But not before April told me once again the room the previous day was a rip-off. In fact she showed me her flea bites from the previous night.
Dinan is the best preserved medieval town in Brittany. In the 9th century some monks settled on a hill on the banks of the Rance river. The first Breton king, Nominoe, promised them some land and certain priveleges if they founded a monastery there which would include the remains of some saint. Any saint? Who knows. So these enterprising monks snuck over to an island named Sercq, stole the freaking remains of Saint Magloire, showed up with their prize possession and got their land, thus the region first became settled. What a bunch of wanksters. Perhaps the ten commandments hadn’t reached the shores of Breton by that time.
Anyway the town started to grow. In 1065 William the Conqueror had some skirmish here and torched the defensive wooden enclosures; this event is captured on some Bayeux tapestry. History on tapestry!
In the 12th century the Arab geographer, Idrisi, reported the town was an important trading center and it was now enclosed by stone walls.
In 1283, they added ramparts and the town played a more significant military role. The wall continued to get built for the next 300 years, and reached 2650 meters in length.
In 1488 the French troops defeated the Bretons, but not before the Bretons managed to demolish their church so the French couldn’t use it. That’ll show ‘em. The church was later rebuilt inside the Wall.
A whole bunch of inter-royal marriages occurred in the 1500s and thus ensured that Brittany would become part of France. Voila.
Back to present day…..
After an easy morning ride we got to Dinan and rode around until we found our hotel. It looked empty, April pulled on the doors but they seemed locked, so we went for lunch. We ate at an Italian place for lunch (pizza, lasagna) then tried the hotel again, around 2:30. Still locked but it looked like there was a guy in there. Sure he came to the door and just pulled it inwards and it opened. No skills! It was always opened but the doors pushed in, not pulled out. Feeling slightly sheepish, yet thrilled it was opened, we checked in. Great room, especially in comparison to the box from last night. The Tiger was happy - so I was happy. Will nothing ever change?
Showered, chilled then went for a late afternoon walk. The town was fantastic. Old half-timbered houses everywhere. Great little alleyways. Lots of galleries and restaurants. All cobbled streets. We went to look at the church but had to run out because I had to crap. Ran out and found a public toilet within a minute or so. We’re really getting good at scoping them out, know just where they’ll be. As usual I was much more pleased by being inside of a bathroom rather than a church.
Then we found a perfect café and sat for tea/coffee while watching the world go by. Lots of tourists here. Too many for us. We used to being off the beaten path. This was the most crowded place of the trip so far. It started to drizzle, but we were under an umbrella, the streets cleared and we felt wonderfully isolated, strangely surreal because of the architecture, yet happy and settled.
Stopped at a Moules place for dinner. They had about 20 different moules variations. I had Moules Curry and it was 800gr and served in a cast-iron pot so it stayed hot the entire time. That’s critical. April had an omelette/frites. Then we hit he sack in our nice, clean, quiet room. But not before April told me once again the room the previous day was a rip-off. In fact she showed me her flea bites from the previous night.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
The Tiger and the Shitty Hotel...
Awoke to rain. This was more than our previous mists; real rain. But it stopped as we ate bfast, and just threatened for the rest of the day. We had a very short day planned because we ran into hotel booking troubles. It’s now the beginning of the French Holidays, much of France takes all of August off and goes on vacation. We called a ton of places yesterday via skype but couldn’t find a room in Dinan as it was Saturday night. We did have a room in Dinan for Sunday nite. We finally found a nite in a larger hotel in Plancoet which is about 20Km from Dinan. Dinan is supposed to be one of the best preserved medieval towns in Brittany.
As you can imagine April wasn’t too happy with the prospect of a nondescript larger hotel in some no name town.
Nice country ride again. We’re heading inland, so it was all rolling farmland. Looks a little like the farms/fields of eastern Pennsylvania (Valley Forge et al). As usual huge hedgerows along almost all roads. They love the freaking hedgerows here. I don’t get it. They build up at least a 3 foot hedgerow along the roads. A pretty good one is 5-6 feet, and we’ve seen some monster 10+ footers with all sorts of old tress and roots on them. And some of the roads are even sunken. The field are 3-4 feet above the road. April read something about these sunken roads, but now we can’t find that info.
Btw - We’ve seen all sorts of crops on our ride: corn, wheat, oats, hay, tomatoes, potatoes, onions, cabbages, cauliflower, zucchini, artichokes, peas, peppers. And the farms are very intermingled with the villages. Lots of birds, I think it’s the dove’s that are constantly calling a 6-note song.
Ride was easy, we’re powering up the gradual slopes in a fairly high gear. Two old guys passed us on racing bikes as we were studying the maps, and we almost caught them on the up hill. It’s usually been old guys who are out on the road bikes. A few young guys, but 80% old bucks.
We get to Plancoet and find our hotel and April freaks. It looks shitty, the guy shows us our room, it’s even shittier. Truth is it’s a square, simple room with no character, but large, almost clean and quiet. I give April a lecture on craving and aversions. She goes to look around and I unpack and shower knowing that if I don’t she’ll try to change the room and maybe even the hotel. She comes back pissed that I had moved in. Ha-ha. Ah the games people play.
We walked around town, hit a great Brasserie for lunch. Nothing fancy but the best moules of the trip so far. Not much in this town. Visited a very large antique/junk shop. Then went back to the room to nap. Unfortunately we napped almost to dinner. On these biking trips the body does get tired and worn down so we can usually nap anytime/anywhere.
We had dinner in our hotel because the demi-pension was a good price. But dinner sucked, I had to eat both plates (fish and chicken). Then we hit the sack again. Read and then because we had napped so long and late April couldn’t sleep. And she tossed and turned so much she kept waking me up. Then she read with the headlamp, awfully bright. Then she complained about the window arrangement. Then in the mroning she claimed she got bug bites. Then she complained about bfast price for what we got. Then she declared this wasn’t a three star hotel. I knew I was bad when I complained about the Voies Verte but this was truly world class sniping.
Morale of the story. Let the Tiger pick the hotel and the room!
Now here’s the kicker. We’re staying in this shitbox because it was all we could find at a reasonable price. Then we get a mail from Ethan who blew a wad of cash to fly over from London to Amsterdam for the weekend with his cousin POC.
In his own words, making a guest appearance in this Blog, Ethan....
“ i got upgraded to business class for the flight and then we got upgraded at the hotel from a deluxe room to "the super deluxe sweet". this place is insane, the ceilings are about 25 feet high and everything is designed for rest&relaxation, we are in heaven. they have these huge windows (15-20 feet high) that have a remote control curtain. we just both rolled out of our plush beds and hit the remote to bring in the sun, classic, couple of wangstas livin it up. yesterday we walked around a bunch and hit the spa, we were pretty tired but feel alot better today and are ready to crush out sights. the spa was pretty awesome, nice pool with a "starry sky" over it, 3 different saunas, steam room, hot tub, lounge chairs and a nice rain shower - talk about the ultimate leisure trip. we ate at a decent spanish tapas place and didnt stay out too late, tonight we'll probably go to some bars. having a blast, and free wireless at the hotel!”
As you can imagine April wasn’t too happy with the prospect of a nondescript larger hotel in some no name town.
Nice country ride again. We’re heading inland, so it was all rolling farmland. Looks a little like the farms/fields of eastern Pennsylvania (Valley Forge et al). As usual huge hedgerows along almost all roads. They love the freaking hedgerows here. I don’t get it. They build up at least a 3 foot hedgerow along the roads. A pretty good one is 5-6 feet, and we’ve seen some monster 10+ footers with all sorts of old tress and roots on them. And some of the roads are even sunken. The field are 3-4 feet above the road. April read something about these sunken roads, but now we can’t find that info.
Btw - We’ve seen all sorts of crops on our ride: corn, wheat, oats, hay, tomatoes, potatoes, onions, cabbages, cauliflower, zucchini, artichokes, peas, peppers. And the farms are very intermingled with the villages. Lots of birds, I think it’s the dove’s that are constantly calling a 6-note song.
Ride was easy, we’re powering up the gradual slopes in a fairly high gear. Two old guys passed us on racing bikes as we were studying the maps, and we almost caught them on the up hill. It’s usually been old guys who are out on the road bikes. A few young guys, but 80% old bucks.
We get to Plancoet and find our hotel and April freaks. It looks shitty, the guy shows us our room, it’s even shittier. Truth is it’s a square, simple room with no character, but large, almost clean and quiet. I give April a lecture on craving and aversions. She goes to look around and I unpack and shower knowing that if I don’t she’ll try to change the room and maybe even the hotel. She comes back pissed that I had moved in. Ha-ha. Ah the games people play.
We walked around town, hit a great Brasserie for lunch. Nothing fancy but the best moules of the trip so far. Not much in this town. Visited a very large antique/junk shop. Then went back to the room to nap. Unfortunately we napped almost to dinner. On these biking trips the body does get tired and worn down so we can usually nap anytime/anywhere.
We had dinner in our hotel because the demi-pension was a good price. But dinner sucked, I had to eat both plates (fish and chicken). Then we hit the sack again. Read and then because we had napped so long and late April couldn’t sleep. And she tossed and turned so much she kept waking me up. Then she read with the headlamp, awfully bright. Then she complained about the window arrangement. Then in the mroning she claimed she got bug bites. Then she complained about bfast price for what we got. Then she declared this wasn’t a three star hotel. I knew I was bad when I complained about the Voies Verte but this was truly world class sniping.
Morale of the story. Let the Tiger pick the hotel and the room!
Now here’s the kicker. We’re staying in this shitbox because it was all we could find at a reasonable price. Then we get a mail from Ethan who blew a wad of cash to fly over from London to Amsterdam for the weekend with his cousin POC.
In his own words, making a guest appearance in this Blog, Ethan....
“ i got upgraded to business class for the flight and then we got upgraded at the hotel from a deluxe room to "the super deluxe sweet". this place is insane, the ceilings are about 25 feet high and everything is designed for rest&relaxation, we are in heaven. they have these huge windows (15-20 feet high) that have a remote control curtain. we just both rolled out of our plush beds and hit the remote to bring in the sun, classic, couple of wangstas livin it up. yesterday we walked around a bunch and hit the spa, we were pretty tired but feel alot better today and are ready to crush out sights. the spa was pretty awesome, nice pool with a "starry sky" over it, 3 different saunas, steam room, hot tub, lounge chairs and a nice rain shower - talk about the ultimate leisure trip. we ate at a decent spanish tapas place and didnt stay out too late, tonight we'll probably go to some bars. having a blast, and free wireless at the hotel!”
Friday, July 30, 2010
St Brieuc
Stand French bfast at 8:30, then headed out only to be greeted by a flat tire on my bike. It was in the exact same spot of my previous flat so we knew something was in there. We looked really carefully, couldn’t feel anything, but as we were flexing the tire a tiny piece of glass came out of the tire. We couldn’t feel it on the outside or the inside, and it had been there for a few days. But I pumped my tire up to 100 lbs pressure yesterday, and as April has been unloading stuff to me (shits weak), and perhaps I‘ve been gaining weight (!), it finally caused the leak again. So I used April’s spare tube, fixed it and away we went.
Had a great ride in the morning. Sun was finally out, puffy clouds, warm but not hot, we were high on a plateau and had great views all around, nice roads with no traffic. Perfect riding. We’re starting to like the roads just slightly inland as we avoid the up+down of the coast, and still have great views and no cars. And we can always see where we are by measuring ourselves against the freaking churches. They’re so tall and one in every village, we can almost track our route from church to church.
Had s slightly longer day today, 50+ miles, but we stayed on larger roads so it went pretty fast. On the larger roads we’re going 15+ mph. We hadn’t bought one of the detailed maps for today, our old one from yesterday covered about 1/3 of the route today and we thought we could manage. Well right after our good map ended we made a wrong turn and ended up on the wrong road. But it proved fortuitous as it gave us a shorter route towards our lunch town.
We passed thru the town of Paimpol, which is known to the rest of Brittany as the Village of the Icelanders. The fishing boats around here (the morutiers) used to leave for 6 months at a time and fish off Iceland and Newfoundland. The Paimpol region alone lost over 100 ships and 2000 men in just 80 years! The cod fishing declined in the 1930s, but a few ships still operate out of St Quay, which is the only deep water port between Brest and Cherbourg (in Normandy?).
Had a nice lunch in Plouha, pizza and omelette/frites, then made our way over to the coast. Had some killer hills that we actually rode up for a change. Getting stronger?
Then got lost again as we headed into St Brieuc the largest town we’re going to hit. We decided to stay here because we need to buy train tickets from St Malo back to paris and we needed to reserve spots on the TGV (train de grand vitesse, train of great speed).
Had a huge hill just filled with glass getting into St Brieuc. Had flakes all over our tired but no flats.
We had reserved in an Manor house in St Brieuc, and it was really old. April got scared just walking in. But the madame was great, very friendly, we had a ton of fun chatting with her. She let us use her computer since she didn’t know the wifi security key (her son had set it up). Her grandfather built the house after the French Revolution, late 1700s? She told us her husband’s family had come to Breton from Scotland in the year 1050! Old aristocrats.
Had a rare crappy dinner at a Best Western Brasserie (Madame had recommended it). Got back to the house, it was all dark and eerie. April thought we were in the Bates Motel (Hitchcock, psycho). But the night was uneventful and we had a great sleep. In the morning we also talked with Madam’s daughter and son-in-law, and they had their 4 kids in tow. The son-in-law was in the French Military, loved the States, had been in Leavenworth, Orlando, and Kentucky (all for military training stuff). He even admitted the house was strange. He said it was like the Adams Family. Ha-ha.
We thoroughly enjoyed our stay here because we spent so much time chatting with the family. We talked about our kids, where we lived, the geography of the States, Berkeley (where her daughter had been for 4 months), how the Greeks influenced everything (none of that new shit from the year 1050), etc, etc. A great stay. Madame was going to give us a ride to the bike store to get some more patches, but we made our way there the following morning. As always the friendliness of the owners had a great influence on how much we enjoy a place. You can tell which owner really like doing it, and which find it a headache.
Had a great ride in the morning. Sun was finally out, puffy clouds, warm but not hot, we were high on a plateau and had great views all around, nice roads with no traffic. Perfect riding. We’re starting to like the roads just slightly inland as we avoid the up+down of the coast, and still have great views and no cars. And we can always see where we are by measuring ourselves against the freaking churches. They’re so tall and one in every village, we can almost track our route from church to church.
Had s slightly longer day today, 50+ miles, but we stayed on larger roads so it went pretty fast. On the larger roads we’re going 15+ mph. We hadn’t bought one of the detailed maps for today, our old one from yesterday covered about 1/3 of the route today and we thought we could manage. Well right after our good map ended we made a wrong turn and ended up on the wrong road. But it proved fortuitous as it gave us a shorter route towards our lunch town.
We passed thru the town of Paimpol, which is known to the rest of Brittany as the Village of the Icelanders. The fishing boats around here (the morutiers) used to leave for 6 months at a time and fish off Iceland and Newfoundland. The Paimpol region alone lost over 100 ships and 2000 men in just 80 years! The cod fishing declined in the 1930s, but a few ships still operate out of St Quay, which is the only deep water port between Brest and Cherbourg (in Normandy?).
Had a nice lunch in Plouha, pizza and omelette/frites, then made our way over to the coast. Had some killer hills that we actually rode up for a change. Getting stronger?
Then got lost again as we headed into St Brieuc the largest town we’re going to hit. We decided to stay here because we need to buy train tickets from St Malo back to paris and we needed to reserve spots on the TGV (train de grand vitesse, train of great speed).
Had a huge hill just filled with glass getting into St Brieuc. Had flakes all over our tired but no flats.
We had reserved in an Manor house in St Brieuc, and it was really old. April got scared just walking in. But the madame was great, very friendly, we had a ton of fun chatting with her. She let us use her computer since she didn’t know the wifi security key (her son had set it up). Her grandfather built the house after the French Revolution, late 1700s? She told us her husband’s family had come to Breton from Scotland in the year 1050! Old aristocrats.
Had a rare crappy dinner at a Best Western Brasserie (Madame had recommended it). Got back to the house, it was all dark and eerie. April thought we were in the Bates Motel (Hitchcock, psycho). But the night was uneventful and we had a great sleep. In the morning we also talked with Madam’s daughter and son-in-law, and they had their 4 kids in tow. The son-in-law was in the French Military, loved the States, had been in Leavenworth, Orlando, and Kentucky (all for military training stuff). He even admitted the house was strange. He said it was like the Adams Family. Ha-ha.
We thoroughly enjoyed our stay here because we spent so much time chatting with the family. We talked about our kids, where we lived, the geography of the States, Berkeley (where her daughter had been for 4 months), how the Greeks influenced everything (none of that new shit from the year 1050), etc, etc. A great stay. Madame was going to give us a ride to the bike store to get some more patches, but we made our way there the following morning. As always the friendliness of the owners had a great influence on how much we enjoy a place. You can tell which owner really like doing it, and which find it a headache.
Saved by the flipflops and Brehat
Planned a short day today as we wanted to get to our B+B quickly and also visit Isle Brehat, the romantic island! We shall see!
As you’ll remember we were in somewhat of a fancy B+B. A large old manor house built in the 1600s. Somewhat of an upscale clientele. So you can imagine my dismay as we sat for breakfast and out comes a little puffer. No one noticed but clearly I had to head for the toilet immediatement. Readers of last year’s blog might remember how we taught Jayne and Danny the cough+fart trick, for which Danny never seemed to master (and it seemed like Jayne had a bad case of whopping cough). Anyway I knew as I walked out of the very large dining room that something was called for; this was going to be a fart-for-every-step type of deal.
So how good is this: I had flip-flops on, I took a few tentative steps pinching tightly, and I noticed the flip-flops smacked loudly on every step. Saved! Took the 8-9 steps out of the room, slapping those flips-flops as loud as I could while maintaining a perfect harmony of fart plus sandal smack right off the stage. I had a huge grin on my face as I sprinted up the stairs tooting away and barely made it to our bathroom. Ah, once again the simple pleasures in life.
Morning ride was on a large road so we made good time. Decided to buy sandwiches at a Boulangerie (bakery) to save time, ate them at a church, then headed down to cross an other inlet, another pleasant hike up to the plateau, then a beautiful ride to the northern tip where the ferry left for Isle de Brehat. Our B+B was right near the ferry. No cars on Brehat, in fact bikes had to be brought over before 10:00 AM, so we left our bikes/gear at the B+B, changed clothes in the yard (Madame was out for a few hours) then took the ferry across.
The pier went out a few hundred yards as there were three different docking spots depending on the tide. And on Brehat it was even further, it took 10 minutes to walk from the low water pickup to the high water pickup. These are 30-40 foot tides and very shallow dropoffs to the tide goes out forever.
Brehat was postcard pretty but too crowded for us. 4000 people/day visit in the summer. So we walked around for awhile, but it looked much like what we’ve been seeing for the past two weeks so we said screw it (perhaps the extent of the romantic influence?) and headed back to our nice B+B for a shower and a bed. When you’re out riding 6 hours a day you really like to hit the room and just chill.
Had a home cooked meal, soup de poisson, think French onion soup but thicker and with a seafood taste, and scallops, which have been uniformly excellent btw. Plus we finished a whole bottle of white wine, which knocked us (April?) out and clearly put an end to any thoughts of a romantic evening.
As you’ll remember we were in somewhat of a fancy B+B. A large old manor house built in the 1600s. Somewhat of an upscale clientele. So you can imagine my dismay as we sat for breakfast and out comes a little puffer. No one noticed but clearly I had to head for the toilet immediatement. Readers of last year’s blog might remember how we taught Jayne and Danny the cough+fart trick, for which Danny never seemed to master (and it seemed like Jayne had a bad case of whopping cough). Anyway I knew as I walked out of the very large dining room that something was called for; this was going to be a fart-for-every-step type of deal.
So how good is this: I had flip-flops on, I took a few tentative steps pinching tightly, and I noticed the flip-flops smacked loudly on every step. Saved! Took the 8-9 steps out of the room, slapping those flips-flops as loud as I could while maintaining a perfect harmony of fart plus sandal smack right off the stage. I had a huge grin on my face as I sprinted up the stairs tooting away and barely made it to our bathroom. Ah, once again the simple pleasures in life.
Morning ride was on a large road so we made good time. Decided to buy sandwiches at a Boulangerie (bakery) to save time, ate them at a church, then headed down to cross an other inlet, another pleasant hike up to the plateau, then a beautiful ride to the northern tip where the ferry left for Isle de Brehat. Our B+B was right near the ferry. No cars on Brehat, in fact bikes had to be brought over before 10:00 AM, so we left our bikes/gear at the B+B, changed clothes in the yard (Madame was out for a few hours) then took the ferry across.
The pier went out a few hundred yards as there were three different docking spots depending on the tide. And on Brehat it was even further, it took 10 minutes to walk from the low water pickup to the high water pickup. These are 30-40 foot tides and very shallow dropoffs to the tide goes out forever.
Brehat was postcard pretty but too crowded for us. 4000 people/day visit in the summer. So we walked around for awhile, but it looked much like what we’ve been seeing for the past two weeks so we said screw it (perhaps the extent of the romantic influence?) and headed back to our nice B+B for a shower and a bed. When you’re out riding 6 hours a day you really like to hit the room and just chill.
Had a home cooked meal, soup de poisson, think French onion soup but thicker and with a seafood taste, and scallops, which have been uniformly excellent btw. Plus we finished a whole bottle of white wine, which knocked us (April?) out and clearly put an end to any thoughts of a romantic evening.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Life in the Manor house.
Ok, the freaking bread-only bfast is starting to get really old. And it’s always those puffy baguettes, nothing hearty. And one croissant each. So it’s nice but not enough fuel.
It was even mistier today, almost like rain. As we made our way in the morning, it was the type of day where all the hair on your forearms collected moisture. We had some nice backroads, had a pleasant walk up a steep hill, then had to get on the highway for a bit. The highways are a mixed blessing. We find we can really pick up the speed to about 18-20 MPH, but then there’s the noise and traffic. Then the rain started and the wind started blowing. We came to an intersection of two highways and ducked behind the house in the middle of the two roads. Spirits were low. Trucks whizzing by. I had to pee but we were in someone’s driveway.
Both roads lead roughly to where we needed to be. Our map indicated the highway on the left was the smaller road, but I thought I had seen a sign that said trucks to the left. But you can never be quite sure of what you thought you saw, especially on these signs which are in French and Breton. So we watched for awhile and then decided to take the right-hand road even though it was the larger highway on the map. Huge winner! The best stretch of the trip. It was a about a 5 mile down hill. Maybe 1-2 cars passed us. And it stopped drizzling and we dried out as we coasted. It was perfect. The proverbial “road less traveled”!
We’re now riding along the Tregor region in the Cote de Granit Rose. Red/pink granite rocks/cliff all along the coast. Very rocky. Being Monday lots of things were closed. But we found a Creperie open. April had a salad and I had a gallette (the buckwheat crepe) with hams, almost raw egg, cheese. Not bad but hardly filling.
Then we made our way along a few beaches and hills. One beach the tide went out for at least a mile. Seriously the tides are huge here and the beaches are flat so the low tide is always at least a few hundred yards out sometime .5-1 mile out. Bizarre.
Then we got to our town, Plougrescant, and we had reserved a room at this old Manor house, the Manoir de Kergrec’h. Fabulous. Built in the 1700s. We got a corner room. Huge room and bathroom. Sits on 10 hectares., so it’s quiet. Probably the best room of the trip. Of course April was thrilled, and proclaimed she needed a rest day the next day, so we’re staying two nights. But I was thinking of dinner. No restaurants in this tiny town. Only a creperie was open. Now last night April convinced me to have moules/frites at the town event thing, instead of a real dinner. Then a gallette for lunch. Now what a crepe for dinner? Instead I had a salad and April had the gallette. Crepes for dessert. Still not full.
Our rest day:
We read late, slept until about 9:00.
We go down for bfast and it turns out the manor has an older clientele, a little more formal than we’re used to. All the men have the ‘sweater wrapped over their shoulder’ thing going on. I’m in a white t-shirt and shorts. I’m starved after too many galettes and crepes, so I start pounding the croissants. Then as we’re eating, April notices I have croissant crumbs not only covering my little plate but on the placemat and a few on my lap and the floor. As you might expect everyone else’s plate looked clean. Not sure how they manage that as the croissants start to flake just when you touch them. Whatever.
We buy some sandwiches and go for a hike from the Manor, hit the coast and see all the oyster beds. They have these 2x3 foot metal cage kind of thing that sits on a stand and have all the oysters in the cage. There were rows and rows of then in the tidelands. There’s so much tideland at low tide so the area is great for oysters, mussels, clams. We nap, read and wash clothes in the afternoon. The sun finally comes out. But we’re in weather so much each day, we’re loving just being in the room. We find a restaurant about 3KMs away for dinner, and we have to ride to it as we’re starving. Three walking hill along the way. No skills. But the place is great. It’s a tiny place, 5 tables inside, beach and port across the street. We eat twice as much as the French folks in the restaurant. The have maybe 12 oysters and some wine. Or a bowl of Moules with Frites. They don’t eat much of the bread offered. I have 6 oysters as an app, then we each have a meal (salmon wrapped in bacon with beurre blanc for me and April has mussels and spinach casserole), and we order a side of frites, and we got thru two baskets of bread, a carafe of wine, and two desserts. April finally realizes what that chocolate thing we got early on in the trip is and gets it here. It’s called Fondant du Chocolate. Nice!!!! Finally full again. Plus no one drinks much water and we drink two carafes. We’re like the barbarian hordes marauding (or at least eating) thru Brittany. We walk/ride back to the Manor and hit the sack. Life’s good.
Oh yes a few more notes: this town was founded in the 6th century by Crescant, a Breton immigrant leader. The village used to live off agriculture and fishing. Now it’s oysters and tourism, plus they still farm.
And as we headed for the restaurant and were lost, we talked with an old buck who gave us directions, then as we chatted him up he told us to make sure we visited the Isle de Brehat, as it was beautiful and great for romance. Ha-ha.
Which reminds me, and I can’t remember if I mentioned this earlier: at one of our B+Bs, as were chatting up an older biking couple and the owner, she asked why we bring our bikes instead of renting, and I said your bike is maybe more important than your wife as you’re riding on it many hours each day! The old guy agreed with me and we had a good laugh. The wives didn’t seem to find it that amusing though.
It was even mistier today, almost like rain. As we made our way in the morning, it was the type of day where all the hair on your forearms collected moisture. We had some nice backroads, had a pleasant walk up a steep hill, then had to get on the highway for a bit. The highways are a mixed blessing. We find we can really pick up the speed to about 18-20 MPH, but then there’s the noise and traffic. Then the rain started and the wind started blowing. We came to an intersection of two highways and ducked behind the house in the middle of the two roads. Spirits were low. Trucks whizzing by. I had to pee but we were in someone’s driveway.
Both roads lead roughly to where we needed to be. Our map indicated the highway on the left was the smaller road, but I thought I had seen a sign that said trucks to the left. But you can never be quite sure of what you thought you saw, especially on these signs which are in French and Breton. So we watched for awhile and then decided to take the right-hand road even though it was the larger highway on the map. Huge winner! The best stretch of the trip. It was a about a 5 mile down hill. Maybe 1-2 cars passed us. And it stopped drizzling and we dried out as we coasted. It was perfect. The proverbial “road less traveled”!
We’re now riding along the Tregor region in the Cote de Granit Rose. Red/pink granite rocks/cliff all along the coast. Very rocky. Being Monday lots of things were closed. But we found a Creperie open. April had a salad and I had a gallette (the buckwheat crepe) with hams, almost raw egg, cheese. Not bad but hardly filling.
Then we made our way along a few beaches and hills. One beach the tide went out for at least a mile. Seriously the tides are huge here and the beaches are flat so the low tide is always at least a few hundred yards out sometime .5-1 mile out. Bizarre.
Then we got to our town, Plougrescant, and we had reserved a room at this old Manor house, the Manoir de Kergrec’h. Fabulous. Built in the 1700s. We got a corner room. Huge room and bathroom. Sits on 10 hectares., so it’s quiet. Probably the best room of the trip. Of course April was thrilled, and proclaimed she needed a rest day the next day, so we’re staying two nights. But I was thinking of dinner. No restaurants in this tiny town. Only a creperie was open. Now last night April convinced me to have moules/frites at the town event thing, instead of a real dinner. Then a gallette for lunch. Now what a crepe for dinner? Instead I had a salad and April had the gallette. Crepes for dessert. Still not full.
Our rest day:
We read late, slept until about 9:00.
We go down for bfast and it turns out the manor has an older clientele, a little more formal than we’re used to. All the men have the ‘sweater wrapped over their shoulder’ thing going on. I’m in a white t-shirt and shorts. I’m starved after too many galettes and crepes, so I start pounding the croissants. Then as we’re eating, April notices I have croissant crumbs not only covering my little plate but on the placemat and a few on my lap and the floor. As you might expect everyone else’s plate looked clean. Not sure how they manage that as the croissants start to flake just when you touch them. Whatever.
We buy some sandwiches and go for a hike from the Manor, hit the coast and see all the oyster beds. They have these 2x3 foot metal cage kind of thing that sits on a stand and have all the oysters in the cage. There were rows and rows of then in the tidelands. There’s so much tideland at low tide so the area is great for oysters, mussels, clams. We nap, read and wash clothes in the afternoon. The sun finally comes out. But we’re in weather so much each day, we’re loving just being in the room. We find a restaurant about 3KMs away for dinner, and we have to ride to it as we’re starving. Three walking hill along the way. No skills. But the place is great. It’s a tiny place, 5 tables inside, beach and port across the street. We eat twice as much as the French folks in the restaurant. The have maybe 12 oysters and some wine. Or a bowl of Moules with Frites. They don’t eat much of the bread offered. I have 6 oysters as an app, then we each have a meal (salmon wrapped in bacon with beurre blanc for me and April has mussels and spinach casserole), and we order a side of frites, and we got thru two baskets of bread, a carafe of wine, and two desserts. April finally realizes what that chocolate thing we got early on in the trip is and gets it here. It’s called Fondant du Chocolate. Nice!!!! Finally full again. Plus no one drinks much water and we drink two carafes. We’re like the barbarian hordes marauding (or at least eating) thru Brittany. We walk/ride back to the Manor and hit the sack. Life’s good.
Oh yes a few more notes: this town was founded in the 6th century by Crescant, a Breton immigrant leader. The village used to live off agriculture and fishing. Now it’s oysters and tourism, plus they still farm.
And as we headed for the restaurant and were lost, we talked with an old buck who gave us directions, then as we chatted him up he told us to make sure we visited the Isle de Brehat, as it was beautiful and great for romance. Ha-ha.
Which reminds me, and I can’t remember if I mentioned this earlier: at one of our B+Bs, as were chatting up an older biking couple and the owner, she asked why we bring our bikes instead of renting, and I said your bike is maybe more important than your wife as you’re riding on it many hours each day! The old guy agreed with me and we had a good laugh. The wives didn’t seem to find it that amusing though.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Got the walking-hills blues
Woke earlier today, bfast at 8:00, we wanted to hit the road by 9:00. We’ve usually been starting around 10-10:30. Sure enough out by 9:00.
It was a cloudy, drizzly, overcast, gray day. Not too cold, in the 60s. We coasted along a beach right outside of Locquirec, then went along a peninsula to avoid the main rode, the D786. But we had to join the 786 for a couple of miles and kicked ass down a huge hill and along the beach, but then as usual we had to climb again away from the beach. Whenever we hit a big downhill we know we’re going to pay with a matching uphill. Sure enough we had a super-steep hill out of St Michel-en-Greve. Alas, we had the walk of shame. Yes, we had to walk our bikes. Sigh. It sort of matches our current state of hotel-only tourers. This was about a 15% grade. How do I know? Because later we hit another “walker” and it was labeled 15%. These are freakin steep, especially with panniers.
So we cruised along on a high plateau, pulled into Locquemeau, dropped and climbed, then found a bakery open on Sunday. Nice reward! Bought a loaf of dark bread and a wonderful flan with apricot top and coconut crumbs to top it off. It was killer. We’re stopping about twice/day for bakery snacks. Hard to lose weight on that program.
From Locquemeau we had to ride 15 KMs inland to reach Lannion before heading only to turn around and head 15KM back out towards the sea. And we can see the other side the whole time. Sucks.
In Lannion we stopped for lunch, almost everything was closed but we found a café that had salds and their menu du jour. Most places offer a menu du jour. It’s an entre (appetizer), and plat (main meal) and a dessert. And you get two out of three also. There’s usually 1-3 choices for each course. April had a great salad (lettuce, beets, corn, bacon, sausage, eggs, potatoes, tomatoes). And I had the menu, but just with the plat and dessert; had a steak/frites and a killer chocolate brownie-cake thing with a cream/custard sauce. The thing is even at low-end café’s here in France you get very good food.
Lannion had some cool old buildings, some really leaning/quite tilted, There was a 13th century church built by the Templar Knights. Killers. In fact there’s a freaking church in every little town we hit. And it’s always the biggest and tallest building. We always aim for them to get to the center of all the town. So much money and so much death! Shits weak.
It was hell getting out of Lannion. This was the first time we had road problems. The direct route was on the busy highways so we had to go way out of our way to get just a few KMs west. Made our way back to the coast on some sweet backroads. Finally hit Trebeurden. Knocked at a Chambre d’Hote but the one room was taken, so we found a hotel that had a sea view room. Plus they had wifi. BTW - It’s pronounced wee-fee, here in France, which explains why when I asked that one women in French if they had wifi- she said I don’t speak English. April loves that story.
We had a nice bath. I sat in the tub and washed clothes while bathing. And since my back hadn’t been scrubbed for awhile, I had April come in and use the wool sock I was washing to scrub my back! She said it was like washing a dog. That’s love?
The beach was right across the road, sun had finally come out but we were cold from riding in the drizzle all day, so we just walked the beach/port and came to another market type of thing. Here they had some local bands, and of course moules-frites and sausages/frites. We had one of each with beers instead of dinner. Great local scene with the music/food. The second band was some Breton chanters. Very nice. Danny O’C would have cried.
It was a cloudy, drizzly, overcast, gray day. Not too cold, in the 60s. We coasted along a beach right outside of Locquirec, then went along a peninsula to avoid the main rode, the D786. But we had to join the 786 for a couple of miles and kicked ass down a huge hill and along the beach, but then as usual we had to climb again away from the beach. Whenever we hit a big downhill we know we’re going to pay with a matching uphill. Sure enough we had a super-steep hill out of St Michel-en-Greve. Alas, we had the walk of shame. Yes, we had to walk our bikes. Sigh. It sort of matches our current state of hotel-only tourers. This was about a 15% grade. How do I know? Because later we hit another “walker” and it was labeled 15%. These are freakin steep, especially with panniers.
So we cruised along on a high plateau, pulled into Locquemeau, dropped and climbed, then found a bakery open on Sunday. Nice reward! Bought a loaf of dark bread and a wonderful flan with apricot top and coconut crumbs to top it off. It was killer. We’re stopping about twice/day for bakery snacks. Hard to lose weight on that program.
From Locquemeau we had to ride 15 KMs inland to reach Lannion before heading only to turn around and head 15KM back out towards the sea. And we can see the other side the whole time. Sucks.
In Lannion we stopped for lunch, almost everything was closed but we found a café that had salds and their menu du jour. Most places offer a menu du jour. It’s an entre (appetizer), and plat (main meal) and a dessert. And you get two out of three also. There’s usually 1-3 choices for each course. April had a great salad (lettuce, beets, corn, bacon, sausage, eggs, potatoes, tomatoes). And I had the menu, but just with the plat and dessert; had a steak/frites and a killer chocolate brownie-cake thing with a cream/custard sauce. The thing is even at low-end café’s here in France you get very good food.
Lannion had some cool old buildings, some really leaning/quite tilted, There was a 13th century church built by the Templar Knights. Killers. In fact there’s a freaking church in every little town we hit. And it’s always the biggest and tallest building. We always aim for them to get to the center of all the town. So much money and so much death! Shits weak.
It was hell getting out of Lannion. This was the first time we had road problems. The direct route was on the busy highways so we had to go way out of our way to get just a few KMs west. Made our way back to the coast on some sweet backroads. Finally hit Trebeurden. Knocked at a Chambre d’Hote but the one room was taken, so we found a hotel that had a sea view room. Plus they had wifi. BTW - It’s pronounced wee-fee, here in France, which explains why when I asked that one women in French if they had wifi- she said I don’t speak English. April loves that story.
We had a nice bath. I sat in the tub and washed clothes while bathing. And since my back hadn’t been scrubbed for awhile, I had April come in and use the wool sock I was washing to scrub my back! She said it was like washing a dog. That’s love?
The beach was right across the road, sun had finally come out but we were cold from riding in the drizzle all day, so we just walked the beach/port and came to another market type of thing. Here they had some local bands, and of course moules-frites and sausages/frites. We had one of each with beers instead of dinner. Great local scene with the music/food. The second band was some Breton chanters. Very nice. Danny O’C would have cried.
Back on paved roads!
Back on the road again!
At the B+B, you have bfast with a few others, so it’s always a bit of a crapshoot. In our fantastic B+B in Carhaix, the other couple wouldn’t shut up. Heard at least 3X from the other guest that he was a producer and had worked in LA. This morning was more low-key, all Brits, and one woman’s brother worked for msft and lived in Redmond. Small world.
So we hit the road, easily found our way out of town, and rode along the harbor/inlet for a few miles. It’s quite a long inlet into Morlaix. Right away we felt the difference from the VV, we were moving a lot faster, and we had a fair number of cars on the road. Plus we had hills, a lot of them throughout the day. We tried to ride along the GR34 (the GRs are long-distance hiking paths throughout France), which would have kept us along the coast bit it was too small/bumpy so we got back on the road and rode up a killer hill to get up on the plateau above the coast. Then we headed north on fantastic roads. Nice surface, not much traffic. Gorgeous scenery into and across the bay leading back to Morlaix. We took a side road down to the Pointe Annalouesten and had our first great view north towards England.
We could see a few miles across the bay to the Chateau de Taureau, which is a huge old fort built in 1544 to protect the mouth of the waterway from invaders. It occupies a perfect site for observing and protecting the whole waterway. Lots of rocks sticking out of the water here too. In the old days you’d have to really know the coast well in order to operate around here.
We passed thru the little town of Diben then rode along the coast to Tregastel, which felt like time had passed it by and it was stuck in the 1950s. We bought egg/ham/tomato/cheese baguette sandwiches at a bar then ate them at the beach. We almost stayed here because it felt so off the map. But it was cloudy, so not really a beach day. Beautiful beach with only a few people on it. Then we rode up our second killer hill inland a few miles to Plougasnou. Stopped at a Boulanger for a éclair. Had the big down hill to the coast again, then tackled our most difficult hill of the day, again up from the coast onto a cliffside road above the sea. These coastal roads are beautiful but it’s a lot of up and down. April was begging for the VV. But I was loving these climbs. At the end of this cliffside road we had to climb once again as we headed inland, fourth big climb of the day, steepest yet fairly short. Then we were about 1Km from the water and traversed along the large plateau. Passed by a bunch of huge hothouses growing tomatoes.
We got to our target town of Locquirec around 3:30. We didn’t have any reservations, and it was Saturday night. We found the harbor and the TI office, they called around and found us a Chambre d’Hote. Essentially a room in a woman’s house, and it was only about ½ mile from the harbor. The woman wasn’t at home so we had to wait until 6:00. We hit the café for a couple of beers. There were two Tuaregs from Mali selling jewelry so we chatted them up. We spoke Bambara to them and the guy got all excited. Checked out the restaurants, took a walk along another beach path that looked just like the Marginal Way in Maine, then found our room for the night. Tiny little place but nicely decorated, looks out to the harbor. Nice place for 50 Euros.
Walked bak to the harbour for dinner. Ate at an excellent restaurant, I had buffalo-mozzarella with grilled eggplant/zuchini for an app, and then a chicken in a pot kind of thing with tarragon. April had a cesar salad and a pesto tagliatelle. Had a lemon meringue for dessert. All superbe!
We were really tired walking back to our room. Lights out early by 10:00. Still light out then. Back on paved roads again and it was a big winner. Plus we found better maps (but they cost 15E) so we’re not as lost. But we go thru them in a day. Tres cher!
At the B+B, you have bfast with a few others, so it’s always a bit of a crapshoot. In our fantastic B+B in Carhaix, the other couple wouldn’t shut up. Heard at least 3X from the other guest that he was a producer and had worked in LA. This morning was more low-key, all Brits, and one woman’s brother worked for msft and lived in Redmond. Small world.
So we hit the road, easily found our way out of town, and rode along the harbor/inlet for a few miles. It’s quite a long inlet into Morlaix. Right away we felt the difference from the VV, we were moving a lot faster, and we had a fair number of cars on the road. Plus we had hills, a lot of them throughout the day. We tried to ride along the GR34 (the GRs are long-distance hiking paths throughout France), which would have kept us along the coast bit it was too small/bumpy so we got back on the road and rode up a killer hill to get up on the plateau above the coast. Then we headed north on fantastic roads. Nice surface, not much traffic. Gorgeous scenery into and across the bay leading back to Morlaix. We took a side road down to the Pointe Annalouesten and had our first great view north towards England.
We could see a few miles across the bay to the Chateau de Taureau, which is a huge old fort built in 1544 to protect the mouth of the waterway from invaders. It occupies a perfect site for observing and protecting the whole waterway. Lots of rocks sticking out of the water here too. In the old days you’d have to really know the coast well in order to operate around here.
We passed thru the little town of Diben then rode along the coast to Tregastel, which felt like time had passed it by and it was stuck in the 1950s. We bought egg/ham/tomato/cheese baguette sandwiches at a bar then ate them at the beach. We almost stayed here because it felt so off the map. But it was cloudy, so not really a beach day. Beautiful beach with only a few people on it. Then we rode up our second killer hill inland a few miles to Plougasnou. Stopped at a Boulanger for a éclair. Had the big down hill to the coast again, then tackled our most difficult hill of the day, again up from the coast onto a cliffside road above the sea. These coastal roads are beautiful but it’s a lot of up and down. April was begging for the VV. But I was loving these climbs. At the end of this cliffside road we had to climb once again as we headed inland, fourth big climb of the day, steepest yet fairly short. Then we were about 1Km from the water and traversed along the large plateau. Passed by a bunch of huge hothouses growing tomatoes.
We got to our target town of Locquirec around 3:30. We didn’t have any reservations, and it was Saturday night. We found the harbor and the TI office, they called around and found us a Chambre d’Hote. Essentially a room in a woman’s house, and it was only about ½ mile from the harbor. The woman wasn’t at home so we had to wait until 6:00. We hit the café for a couple of beers. There were two Tuaregs from Mali selling jewelry so we chatted them up. We spoke Bambara to them and the guy got all excited. Checked out the restaurants, took a walk along another beach path that looked just like the Marginal Way in Maine, then found our room for the night. Tiny little place but nicely decorated, looks out to the harbor. Nice place for 50 Euros.
Walked bak to the harbour for dinner. Ate at an excellent restaurant, I had buffalo-mozzarella with grilled eggplant/zuchini for an app, and then a chicken in a pot kind of thing with tarragon. April had a cesar salad and a pesto tagliatelle. Had a lemon meringue for dessert. All superbe!
We were really tired walking back to our room. Lights out early by 10:00. Still light out then. Back on paved roads again and it was a big winner. Plus we found better maps (but they cost 15E) so we’re not as lost. But we go thru them in a day. Tres cher!
Friday, July 23, 2010
Speed
I now fear recurring nightmares.
You know that nightmare where your legs are like lead, you try to run and you can’t. Well after 2 days on the VV, I’m certain that nightmare is going to switch from running to riding on the dreaded VV!
First let’s remember what we as men are supposed to do. We made to do three things. Fight in wars, hunt for food, and spread the seed. All three need speed. Ha-ha.
Faster is better, that’s why men love fast cars, boats, guns, etc. It’s all about speed. As an example when Eth and I were driving back from Montana one time, I told him every time he went faster than 70 mph I would yell at him. So he would try to get it below 70, but then when a car passed him, he subconsciously sped up and would end up at 75. He couldn’t stand to see another car go faster. It’s in our genes.
Which brings me back to the VV. You kind of get going, you can push bit for awhile, but then you hit a rough spot, or there’s some mud, or there’s too much sand, or the slight incline is getting you, it sucks you in, it saps your mojo, you think you can downshift and pick it up again, and it works for awhile, but then there’s that sandy patch, or there’s some bumpy grass, or you have to slow for a gate, or there’s horseshit in the path; it always wins, you downshift again and before you know it you’re doing 6-8 mph. Sigh, you can’t beat it, it’s like fighting water or walking in deep sand; slowly, inexorably it drags you down . It’s like the twilight zone. It sems normal but you know something is wrong. You can’t escape it. As a man, bred for speed, it’s a nightmare.
But April loves it. So all is well. But even she got a little tired of it today (although she won’t admit it).
Anyway we finally finished our two days on the VV. We’re now in Morlaix on the northern coast.
Not much to report on the actual ride. We bought our lunch at a small market. Bread, boursin, peanuts, prunes, fruit. Sopped at one of the deserted train stations, had lunch on some picnic tables. I got our first flat of the trip at lunch somehow. Then we had an 8K uphill, which prompted the rant above. But then we had about a 10K downhill. We ere pedaling it this time (as we wanted to get to Morlaix) and we were moving pretty fast (15-20mph). You can’t go much faster because it’s to rough and sandy.
Pulled into Morlaix, our B+B is in another old manor house. It’s gorgeous. About 200 yrs old (kind of new) and very French. We walked down to town for a nice dinner. April had a scallop/leek app, then a white fish. I had a salmon app, and lamb chops/ratatouille. Then we split a vanilla ice cream, caramel sauce and baked apple kind of thing for dessert.
Talked to Chels and Eth today. Chels - happy birthday. Eth is off with POC shopping in London. Wanksters.
You know that nightmare where your legs are like lead, you try to run and you can’t. Well after 2 days on the VV, I’m certain that nightmare is going to switch from running to riding on the dreaded VV!
First let’s remember what we as men are supposed to do. We made to do three things. Fight in wars, hunt for food, and spread the seed. All three need speed. Ha-ha.
Faster is better, that’s why men love fast cars, boats, guns, etc. It’s all about speed. As an example when Eth and I were driving back from Montana one time, I told him every time he went faster than 70 mph I would yell at him. So he would try to get it below 70, but then when a car passed him, he subconsciously sped up and would end up at 75. He couldn’t stand to see another car go faster. It’s in our genes.
Which brings me back to the VV. You kind of get going, you can push bit for awhile, but then you hit a rough spot, or there’s some mud, or there’s too much sand, or the slight incline is getting you, it sucks you in, it saps your mojo, you think you can downshift and pick it up again, and it works for awhile, but then there’s that sandy patch, or there’s some bumpy grass, or you have to slow for a gate, or there’s horseshit in the path; it always wins, you downshift again and before you know it you’re doing 6-8 mph. Sigh, you can’t beat it, it’s like fighting water or walking in deep sand; slowly, inexorably it drags you down . It’s like the twilight zone. It sems normal but you know something is wrong. You can’t escape it. As a man, bred for speed, it’s a nightmare.
But April loves it. So all is well. But even she got a little tired of it today (although she won’t admit it).
Anyway we finally finished our two days on the VV. We’re now in Morlaix on the northern coast.
Not much to report on the actual ride. We bought our lunch at a small market. Bread, boursin, peanuts, prunes, fruit. Sopped at one of the deserted train stations, had lunch on some picnic tables. I got our first flat of the trip at lunch somehow. Then we had an 8K uphill, which prompted the rant above. But then we had about a 10K downhill. We ere pedaling it this time (as we wanted to get to Morlaix) and we were moving pretty fast (15-20mph). You can’t go much faster because it’s to rough and sandy.
Pulled into Morlaix, our B+B is in another old manor house. It’s gorgeous. About 200 yrs old (kind of new) and very French. We walked down to town for a nice dinner. April had a scallop/leek app, then a white fish. I had a salmon app, and lamb chops/ratatouille. Then we split a vanilla ice cream, caramel sauce and baked apple kind of thing for dessert.
Talked to Chels and Eth today. Chels - happy birthday. Eth is off with POC shopping in London. Wanksters.
Voies Verte
Dissension in the ranks! The Voies Verte has driven a split right down the middle of the happy bikers.
As a reminder, the VVs are a series of bike/hike/horse routes throughout Brittany that have been built on old railroad beds. Hard-packed dirt, no cars, through the forest/farms, usually very pretty, almost always flat or with a very slight grade.
So our plan was to use the VV7 to go from the south coast to the north coast.
We started on it today. April ecstatic, and I’m not really a fan.
Here’s April:: don’t let him fool you - he loves them too! Keeps looking at the map and talking about heading out on the roads and then settles right back into his saddle and down the path of the Voie Verte! A total thumbs up from me - I am not afraid to be who I am - a happy rider/hiker on the Voie Verte - no need to have an ego here - just enjoy the moment. Vive les voie vertes!!!
I beg to differ. Let’s be analytical here. It’s great to be off the main highways. But we get that on our side roads. The scenery on the VV is pretty nice. The problem is it’s kind of boring, just flat and straight, and you get no variety in the peddling. Mind-numbing just to pedal along, never getting any up/down. Ass and ball numbing too. And you’re always having to push just slightly. The exception is the slight downhills which can go on for miles. It’s really weird on the downhills, you’re coasting along at maybe 8mph, never faster or slower, for 2-3 miles at a time.
Anyway it’s just for two days. And April is super thrilled on these paths. So freakin happy. She’s now looking for an “I love the Voies Vertes” t-shirt.
The day was pretty straight-forward: get on the effing VVand just keep pedaling. Ha-ha.
Actually we bought our lunch today at a huge supermarket: baguette, hard cheddar from Scotland, salami, prunes, and we had been carrying some fruit and chocolate. Right after leaving the market we got hit by a cold rain. It was short but we stayed cold because the VV was in the forest and it was shaded and kept dripping on us. But we toughed it out, then stopped for our nice lunch. It really hit the spot. Then we pedaled on. Brain, ass, legs, balls all got numb.
Got lost alongside the river/canal outside of Plouhaix (our destination). First we headed down one side of the canal, the turned back because it seemed to be heading away from town, went down the other side, it too was wrong, went back on our original path and it was the right path. We pulled into Carhaix and didn’t have a great map for locating our B+B. The VV was crossing number of small roads but we didn’t see ours and we were headed into the city. At the last road crossing there was a tree-cutting truck and we didn’t see the road sign. So we hit the busy main road, it turned out to be the highway we were looking for. Took a right, asked for directions at a bike store, they told us to take 2 more rights, and we ended up exactly at the intersection where the tree-cutting truck was working. It had been blocking the sign we needed. Anyway the driveway for the B+B was also right at this intersection. We literally had passed the entrance, then rode in a circle to get back to it. Shits weak!
This B+B is fantastic. It’s an old manor house from the 1600s. A British couple, Penny and Pete, have been restoring it. It’s classy yet fabulous, just like Mimi and Bridgette! And being a Brit, Penny served us tea and a delicious pound cake. It seemed impossible, but April was even happier than when she had that Apple Flan or when she was on the VV. We chatted Pete/Penny up about skiing in the States. They’re planning a trip for this winter. We suggested Utah and Alta//Snowbird/Deer Valley/etc. We showered, April toured the gardens, I got on the internet. Plus they’re serving us and three others dinner.
Dinner awesome, stuffed tomatoes, cheesy potatoes, salmon baked in Filo. Nice Euro type of conversation. The home cooked meal and dinner party type of atmosphere makes everything a little more enjoyable.
Overall our favorite place of the trip so far.
Interesting side note: they just finished a huge music festival in Carhaix. They had 250K people here for the festival. And it was right next to this B+B. We saw them cleaning up. If we had been here a few days earlier we certainly would not have been able to find a room. Springsteen headlined last year.
As a reminder, the VVs are a series of bike/hike/horse routes throughout Brittany that have been built on old railroad beds. Hard-packed dirt, no cars, through the forest/farms, usually very pretty, almost always flat or with a very slight grade.
So our plan was to use the VV7 to go from the south coast to the north coast.
We started on it today. April ecstatic, and I’m not really a fan.
Here’s April:: don’t let him fool you - he loves them too! Keeps looking at the map and talking about heading out on the roads and then settles right back into his saddle and down the path of the Voie Verte! A total thumbs up from me - I am not afraid to be who I am - a happy rider/hiker on the Voie Verte - no need to have an ego here - just enjoy the moment. Vive les voie vertes!!!
I beg to differ. Let’s be analytical here. It’s great to be off the main highways. But we get that on our side roads. The scenery on the VV is pretty nice. The problem is it’s kind of boring, just flat and straight, and you get no variety in the peddling. Mind-numbing just to pedal along, never getting any up/down. Ass and ball numbing too. And you’re always having to push just slightly. The exception is the slight downhills which can go on for miles. It’s really weird on the downhills, you’re coasting along at maybe 8mph, never faster or slower, for 2-3 miles at a time.
Anyway it’s just for two days. And April is super thrilled on these paths. So freakin happy. She’s now looking for an “I love the Voies Vertes” t-shirt.
The day was pretty straight-forward: get on the effing VVand just keep pedaling. Ha-ha.
Actually we bought our lunch today at a huge supermarket: baguette, hard cheddar from Scotland, salami, prunes, and we had been carrying some fruit and chocolate. Right after leaving the market we got hit by a cold rain. It was short but we stayed cold because the VV was in the forest and it was shaded and kept dripping on us. But we toughed it out, then stopped for our nice lunch. It really hit the spot. Then we pedaled on. Brain, ass, legs, balls all got numb.
Got lost alongside the river/canal outside of Plouhaix (our destination). First we headed down one side of the canal, the turned back because it seemed to be heading away from town, went down the other side, it too was wrong, went back on our original path and it was the right path. We pulled into Carhaix and didn’t have a great map for locating our B+B. The VV was crossing number of small roads but we didn’t see ours and we were headed into the city. At the last road crossing there was a tree-cutting truck and we didn’t see the road sign. So we hit the busy main road, it turned out to be the highway we were looking for. Took a right, asked for directions at a bike store, they told us to take 2 more rights, and we ended up exactly at the intersection where the tree-cutting truck was working. It had been blocking the sign we needed. Anyway the driveway for the B+B was also right at this intersection. We literally had passed the entrance, then rode in a circle to get back to it. Shits weak!
This B+B is fantastic. It’s an old manor house from the 1600s. A British couple, Penny and Pete, have been restoring it. It’s classy yet fabulous, just like Mimi and Bridgette! And being a Brit, Penny served us tea and a delicious pound cake. It seemed impossible, but April was even happier than when she had that Apple Flan or when she was on the VV. We chatted Pete/Penny up about skiing in the States. They’re planning a trip for this winter. We suggested Utah and Alta//Snowbird/Deer Valley/etc. We showered, April toured the gardens, I got on the internet. Plus they’re serving us and three others dinner.
Dinner awesome, stuffed tomatoes, cheesy potatoes, salmon baked in Filo. Nice Euro type of conversation. The home cooked meal and dinner party type of atmosphere makes everything a little more enjoyable.
Overall our favorite place of the trip so far.
Interesting side note: they just finished a huge music festival in Carhaix. They had 250K people here for the festival. And it was right next to this B+B. We saw them cleaning up. If we had been here a few days earlier we certainly would not have been able to find a room. Springsteen headlined last year.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Flan vs Sex?
Another great bfast, then away we go with our lightened load and middle-aged angst. Today we’re heading south towards the Pointe de Trevignon for our last look at the south coast of Brittany, then we’ll head north, cutting across Brittany, hit the northern coast and proceed east towards Mont St Michel.
We head out of town up a huge hill, then have a nice easy ride south towards the coast. As we get closer you can tell you’re near the coast as the lighting changes; at least an old salt like April, who was born in Maine (as you might have heard), can tell the difference. Wow, the coast is beautiful.! Fantastic road right along the beach as we head out to the Pointe de Trevignon. Much wilder here than our previous coastlines. Much fewer people too. There are houses but it doesn’t feel crowded. Again it feels like Maine to us.
After Trevignon there’s a 3-4 KM stretch of beach backed by dunes and estuaries/marshes with no roads alongside it. We park our bikes and hike along the beach. In contrast to character, I suggest a walk about a mile down to this point we can see; while April wants to just sit. Anyway we make the hike. It turns out to be the hike from hell, as the sand was kind of coarse, and the beach was sloped so the walking was a bit of a grind. But we saw the biggest jellyfish ever, about the size of a hubcap! There were a few washed up on shore. The beach walk was a grind so we came back on a path along the marsh but that had prickers jabbing into our feet. Beauty all around us yet it came with its own special difficulties. Isn’t that just like life; everything is a package deal.
We bid farewell to the southern coast then headed directly north. We hit the small town of Tregunc at 1:30 just in time for lunch. We passed a great looking bakery so we grabbed a few goodies for a snack later. Had a simple lunch at a brasserie: omelette/frites for me and April had a salad with 3-cheeses. Kind of reminded us of a pub in England.
Then we headed north again thru Melgven and on towards Rosporden. So what do we see as we pass thru a small town: two hardcore bike tourers. It has to be today!? We chat them up, two young German guys, of course they’re just rough camping wherever they can cause they don’t want to pay for a campground or a hotel. First I mention how I toured thru Germany in 1977 to establish a little biker cred, then I explain how we just sent our camping gear home as at our age we like our beds. Sigh. Know thyself.
We had reserved a room at a Chambre d’Hote in Rosporden, which is essentially a B+B. Gives you more of a feel for the local population/color. We had a better map now so we designed a route that kept us on back roads, and we had to cross a section of dirt roads to get into Rosporden. The dirt road was sweet, way back into the country with some deep dark forests and then farmlands. We stopped to eat our bakery goods on a dilapidated stone wall along the way. As one might expect from a committed Anglophile, April claimed the stone walls in England wouldn’t be falling down like this. Really….
We have our snacks, brownie for me and an apple/flan thing for April and right away she’s orgasmic. She’s loving this thing, the crust is perfect, the pudding is so smooth, the apples on the top are just right. Kind of reminds me of the time in Vancouver when I declared my sandwich was better than sex! And the truth is as I listened to her moaning and carrying on, I did feel a little inadequate! Ha-ha.
Anyway we made our way thru Rosporden out into the countryside about a mile and found our B+B. Had a nice chat with the owner/lady, who got around to complaining how her husband hadn’t put up her new world map yet. I casually mentioned, in French of course, how it’s always the case the women are making work for the men. Then she and April bonded a little as they commiserated with each other. And they were really happy cause there were two of them against me. Toujour le meme.
We showered, April searched online for a room in our next town, I washed some clothes. April gave me her black shirt to wash. I forgot I had some tissue paper in my bike shirt pocket. So her black shirt has all these microsopic shreds of paper now all over it. Ha-ha.
We ride back to town for a shitty dinner of pizza/pasta. Rosporden isn’t a touristy town so it has very few services.
Tomorrow we start a 2-day ride on one of the Voies Vertes, the converted railroad/farm routes. About 50K/day on the dirt paths. Should be interesting.
We head out of town up a huge hill, then have a nice easy ride south towards the coast. As we get closer you can tell you’re near the coast as the lighting changes; at least an old salt like April, who was born in Maine (as you might have heard), can tell the difference. Wow, the coast is beautiful.! Fantastic road right along the beach as we head out to the Pointe de Trevignon. Much wilder here than our previous coastlines. Much fewer people too. There are houses but it doesn’t feel crowded. Again it feels like Maine to us.
After Trevignon there’s a 3-4 KM stretch of beach backed by dunes and estuaries/marshes with no roads alongside it. We park our bikes and hike along the beach. In contrast to character, I suggest a walk about a mile down to this point we can see; while April wants to just sit. Anyway we make the hike. It turns out to be the hike from hell, as the sand was kind of coarse, and the beach was sloped so the walking was a bit of a grind. But we saw the biggest jellyfish ever, about the size of a hubcap! There were a few washed up on shore. The beach walk was a grind so we came back on a path along the marsh but that had prickers jabbing into our feet. Beauty all around us yet it came with its own special difficulties. Isn’t that just like life; everything is a package deal.
We bid farewell to the southern coast then headed directly north. We hit the small town of Tregunc at 1:30 just in time for lunch. We passed a great looking bakery so we grabbed a few goodies for a snack later. Had a simple lunch at a brasserie: omelette/frites for me and April had a salad with 3-cheeses. Kind of reminded us of a pub in England.
Then we headed north again thru Melgven and on towards Rosporden. So what do we see as we pass thru a small town: two hardcore bike tourers. It has to be today!? We chat them up, two young German guys, of course they’re just rough camping wherever they can cause they don’t want to pay for a campground or a hotel. First I mention how I toured thru Germany in 1977 to establish a little biker cred, then I explain how we just sent our camping gear home as at our age we like our beds. Sigh. Know thyself.
We had reserved a room at a Chambre d’Hote in Rosporden, which is essentially a B+B. Gives you more of a feel for the local population/color. We had a better map now so we designed a route that kept us on back roads, and we had to cross a section of dirt roads to get into Rosporden. The dirt road was sweet, way back into the country with some deep dark forests and then farmlands. We stopped to eat our bakery goods on a dilapidated stone wall along the way. As one might expect from a committed Anglophile, April claimed the stone walls in England wouldn’t be falling down like this. Really….
We have our snacks, brownie for me and an apple/flan thing for April and right away she’s orgasmic. She’s loving this thing, the crust is perfect, the pudding is so smooth, the apples on the top are just right. Kind of reminds me of the time in Vancouver when I declared my sandwich was better than sex! And the truth is as I listened to her moaning and carrying on, I did feel a little inadequate! Ha-ha.
Anyway we made our way thru Rosporden out into the countryside about a mile and found our B+B. Had a nice chat with the owner/lady, who got around to complaining how her husband hadn’t put up her new world map yet. I casually mentioned, in French of course, how it’s always the case the women are making work for the men. Then she and April bonded a little as they commiserated with each other. And they were really happy cause there were two of them against me. Toujour le meme.
We showered, April searched online for a room in our next town, I washed some clothes. April gave me her black shirt to wash. I forgot I had some tissue paper in my bike shirt pocket. So her black shirt has all these microsopic shreds of paper now all over it. Ha-ha.
We ride back to town for a shitty dinner of pizza/pasta. Rosporden isn’t a touristy town so it has very few services.
Tomorrow we start a 2-day ride on one of the Voies Vertes, the converted railroad/farm routes. About 50K/day on the dirt paths. Should be interesting.
Pont Aven
A rest day in Pont Aven.
We slept in until about 9:00, then had a nice bfast. It was a buffet and in addition to bread, there was cheese, yogurt, granola fruit, oj. Nice.
As I said yesterday Pont Aven is a gorgeous town. There’s a stream running down the middle of the town that empties into the harbor. There are multiple bridges crossing the stream all laden with flowers. The harbor is actually about 10-15 KM upriver from the ocean, but the boats come all the way up. And it used to be a mill town too; there’s a walk around town that passes 14 old grain mills. And in the 19th century it became popular for a number of artists from Paris, who preferred the cheaper rents and beautiful setting. The main man was Paul Gauguin. And the interesting thing is Gauguin was at the forefront of the anti-impressionist movement, which emphasized bright, loud colors. Seems like Jayne O’C and Chels would like this style.
Nowadays there are lots of galleries and artists working in town. So we spent much of the day touring galleries. We bought a small painting, and a few prints. These had to fit in an envelope that we could send home. Prices were pretty good for original work. Also we toured the museum.
There was a market in town that we didn’t know about so we only caught the tail end. I have to get some of the North African chicken tangine at one of these markets (they all have them). I picked the lunch spot, pizza, and it was a bust. And April picked the dinner place and it was a huge winner. So now April is getting close to insufferable as she claims she picks all the great restaurants and hotels, and I’m just along for the ride (and the blog). She seems to be forgetting that andouil
Anyway the dinner was at the Petit Bouchon, which was a tiny place, 6 tables, essentially at a guy’s house. The wife cooked. I had smoked salmon, then a white fish in a tumeric, onion, tomato, herb sauce. It was excellent, and the owner made sure to say it wasn’t actually curry powder. Also had a zucchini gratin and salad as sides. April had a tomato and mozzarella salad, and the house specialty, pork roast, with a cheesy/potato and a salad. A crisp white wine with hints of grapefruit in there. Sweet!
Oh yes, we finally decided to send our camping gear home. Sigh! This was a significant moment for us (maybe just me). Keeping the gear meant we had at least some semblance of the bicycle gypsy life. Whenever and wherever we wanted we could jump over a hedge row and cold camp. Life without encumbrances! We weren’t tied to anything. Stale bread and PBJs for dinner, no problem. We could thrive on the hard life of being a dirt bag bicyclist.
But instead I guess we sort of admitted to ourselves that we like our nice beds, and hot showers, and fresh towels, and wifi, and great restaurants. Ahh the passage of time from young hard warriors to middle-aged couple. Quelle domage!
We slept in until about 9:00, then had a nice bfast. It was a buffet and in addition to bread, there was cheese, yogurt, granola fruit, oj. Nice.
As I said yesterday Pont Aven is a gorgeous town. There’s a stream running down the middle of the town that empties into the harbor. There are multiple bridges crossing the stream all laden with flowers. The harbor is actually about 10-15 KM upriver from the ocean, but the boats come all the way up. And it used to be a mill town too; there’s a walk around town that passes 14 old grain mills. And in the 19th century it became popular for a number of artists from Paris, who preferred the cheaper rents and beautiful setting. The main man was Paul Gauguin. And the interesting thing is Gauguin was at the forefront of the anti-impressionist movement, which emphasized bright, loud colors. Seems like Jayne O’C and Chels would like this style.
Nowadays there are lots of galleries and artists working in town. So we spent much of the day touring galleries. We bought a small painting, and a few prints. These had to fit in an envelope that we could send home. Prices were pretty good for original work. Also we toured the museum.
There was a market in town that we didn’t know about so we only caught the tail end. I have to get some of the North African chicken tangine at one of these markets (they all have them). I picked the lunch spot, pizza, and it was a bust. And April picked the dinner place and it was a huge winner. So now April is getting close to insufferable as she claims she picks all the great restaurants and hotels, and I’m just along for the ride (and the blog). She seems to be forgetting that andouil
Anyway the dinner was at the Petit Bouchon, which was a tiny place, 6 tables, essentially at a guy’s house. The wife cooked. I had smoked salmon, then a white fish in a tumeric, onion, tomato, herb sauce. It was excellent, and the owner made sure to say it wasn’t actually curry powder. Also had a zucchini gratin and salad as sides. April had a tomato and mozzarella salad, and the house specialty, pork roast, with a cheesy/potato and a salad. A crisp white wine with hints of grapefruit in there. Sweet!
Oh yes, we finally decided to send our camping gear home. Sigh! This was a significant moment for us (maybe just me). Keeping the gear meant we had at least some semblance of the bicycle gypsy life. Whenever and wherever we wanted we could jump over a hedge row and cold camp. Life without encumbrances! We weren’t tied to anything. Stale bread and PBJs for dinner, no problem. We could thrive on the hard life of being a dirt bag bicyclist.
But instead I guess we sort of admitted to ourselves that we like our nice beds, and hot showers, and fresh towels, and wifi, and great restaurants. Ahh the passage of time from young hard warriors to middle-aged couple. Quelle domage!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Belon oysters and Pont Aven.
Great sleep in the old hotel after the ridiculous night at the campsite. We passed out before 9:00. Nights have been cool here because we’re so close to the ocean. There are comforters on the beds each night.
We start out day by riding to upper Pouldu and discover many more restaurants and more of a town. There’s a Tourist Info bureau, so we stop to get local maps which have been life-savers for us. As we ride away I’ve forgotten my helmet on the stone wall and I‘m starting to ride away without it. And for some reason April is getting a big kick out of it, she says: “first day on a bike? Don’t how to ride? No skillz.” Then she realizes she was riding away without her helmet also. So she tried to surreptitiously reach up to her head to see if her helmet is on. Then she realizes she was doing the same thing, hers was on the back of her bike. It was so funny to see the look on her face. Aaah the simple pleasures.
We leave the TI place and immediately take a few wrong turns. Lost in the first 100 yards!
Finally get on the right roads and again hug the coast line, zigzagging along small lanes. The roads surfaces are great, there’s no traffic. While we’re not making much progress on the map, at least we’re not on those sand bike paths. We aim for the little port town of Doelan which has a bridge across its inlet. Pretty harbor. Then we head over to Merrien, expecting to get lunch there. It’s an even smaller town/port with no cafes. But its gorgeous. It was also a favorite harbor for Breton smugglers. There’s a little hiking trail out to the point, we can also access it by riding, which we do. The water is really blue and crystal clear. It reminds us of Sardinia. Then we head over to the port of Belon, which is home to one of Brittany’s most celebrated oysters. We were expecting to then take a boat ride up to Port Aven. But there was only one boat/day and we had missed it. No big deal. We settle in for a great lunch. I have some Belon oysters followed by a huge plate of moules-frites (mussels and fries). The mussels had a light curry broth, superbe! April went for the omelet/frites. Also had some fermented cider.
But then we had to ride again. So we backtracked on some back roads, hit a smaller highway and booked some fast miles. Turns out we got close to Pont Aven in no time. We stopped at a supermarket and got some fruit and chocolate. Also picked up a better map. Then we found a sweet back road into Port Aven, shaded, no cars, new surface, mostly downhill. Again the simple pleasures.
We found an old hotel right in the center of town that had wifi. May be noisy but we were high up on the 3rd floor. And Pont Aven is gorgeous. Maybe the prettiest little town we‘ve ever been in. Oh yes, April loves this little vignette: when we get to the hotel, we’re both saying a few sentences in French and it’s going well. The women speaks no English. So I say to her in French: Avez-vous le wifi? (Do you have wifi). And she replies: Je ne parle pas Anglais. (I don’t speak English). She thought I was speaking English. What a blow to my ego! As far as I can tell this is April’s favorite event of the trip so far!
Great shower, I nap, the Tiger scours the town, finds a great restaurant for dinner. Small little place, I have a salmon tartare as an app, then a coquilles St Jacques (scallops), April had a nice swordfish, both had some Breton potatoes (so simple yet wonderful, little roasted yellow potatoes) and ratatouille. And we split a peach melba for dessert. We chatted up the waitress/owner; turns out her grand-pere was a famous salmon fisherman, she claimed he won the world championship of salmon fishing (I personally wasn’t aware of such a title), showed us the old pics of the guy. And for Paul Flessner (who asked me about this) the salmon was wild, not farmed.
As you can tell we’re loving the food. Hope we’re not gaining weight!
One more note, all along the coast there are awesome long-distance hiking trails. These were first created/used by the region’s douniers, or customs officers, looking for smugglers/spies/etc.
We rolled back to our room stuffed and decided to stay here another night because the town seemed so pretty. More on that in the next entry.
We start out day by riding to upper Pouldu and discover many more restaurants and more of a town. There’s a Tourist Info bureau, so we stop to get local maps which have been life-savers for us. As we ride away I’ve forgotten my helmet on the stone wall and I‘m starting to ride away without it. And for some reason April is getting a big kick out of it, she says: “first day on a bike? Don’t how to ride? No skillz.” Then she realizes she was riding away without her helmet also. So she tried to surreptitiously reach up to her head to see if her helmet is on. Then she realizes she was doing the same thing, hers was on the back of her bike. It was so funny to see the look on her face. Aaah the simple pleasures.
We leave the TI place and immediately take a few wrong turns. Lost in the first 100 yards!
Finally get on the right roads and again hug the coast line, zigzagging along small lanes. The roads surfaces are great, there’s no traffic. While we’re not making much progress on the map, at least we’re not on those sand bike paths. We aim for the little port town of Doelan which has a bridge across its inlet. Pretty harbor. Then we head over to Merrien, expecting to get lunch there. It’s an even smaller town/port with no cafes. But its gorgeous. It was also a favorite harbor for Breton smugglers. There’s a little hiking trail out to the point, we can also access it by riding, which we do. The water is really blue and crystal clear. It reminds us of Sardinia. Then we head over to the port of Belon, which is home to one of Brittany’s most celebrated oysters. We were expecting to then take a boat ride up to Port Aven. But there was only one boat/day and we had missed it. No big deal. We settle in for a great lunch. I have some Belon oysters followed by a huge plate of moules-frites (mussels and fries). The mussels had a light curry broth, superbe! April went for the omelet/frites. Also had some fermented cider.
But then we had to ride again. So we backtracked on some back roads, hit a smaller highway and booked some fast miles. Turns out we got close to Pont Aven in no time. We stopped at a supermarket and got some fruit and chocolate. Also picked up a better map. Then we found a sweet back road into Port Aven, shaded, no cars, new surface, mostly downhill. Again the simple pleasures.
We found an old hotel right in the center of town that had wifi. May be noisy but we were high up on the 3rd floor. And Pont Aven is gorgeous. Maybe the prettiest little town we‘ve ever been in. Oh yes, April loves this little vignette: when we get to the hotel, we’re both saying a few sentences in French and it’s going well. The women speaks no English. So I say to her in French: Avez-vous le wifi? (Do you have wifi). And she replies: Je ne parle pas Anglais. (I don’t speak English). She thought I was speaking English. What a blow to my ego! As far as I can tell this is April’s favorite event of the trip so far!
Great shower, I nap, the Tiger scours the town, finds a great restaurant for dinner. Small little place, I have a salmon tartare as an app, then a coquilles St Jacques (scallops), April had a nice swordfish, both had some Breton potatoes (so simple yet wonderful, little roasted yellow potatoes) and ratatouille. And we split a peach melba for dessert. We chatted up the waitress/owner; turns out her grand-pere was a famous salmon fisherman, she claimed he won the world championship of salmon fishing (I personally wasn’t aware of such a title), showed us the old pics of the guy. And for Paul Flessner (who asked me about this) the salmon was wild, not farmed.
As you can tell we’re loving the food. Hope we’re not gaining weight!
One more note, all along the coast there are awesome long-distance hiking trails. These were first created/used by the region’s douniers, or customs officers, looking for smugglers/spies/etc.
We rolled back to our room stuffed and decided to stay here another night because the town seemed so pretty. More on that in the next entry.
Monday, July 19, 2010
No sleep then a 3-boat day.
Holy crap what a night! The freakin moron next to us didn’t shut his radio until 5:30AM. The sun was actually coming up. And three people came over during the long night to try to tell him to lower it but then a long conversation would ensue, and he still wouldn’t lower it. In the States there definitely would have been a fight, but here they had a mostly calm discussion. Kind of weird. April wanted me to go say something, but three people had already tried so I figured it was hopeless since couldn’t even engage in the right conversation.
Anyway April kept getting more angry as the night wore on. I was actually falling in/out of sleep, until she would wake me up. Plus as you all know, I’m the master of staying calm nowadays.
We wanted to get an early start so after a 2-3 hour sleep we awoke at ~8:00 and got out of there quickly. As we were packing the wankster next door has his puppies running loose. April’s stuff was in a pile on the ground and one of the dogs grabs the toilet paper and runs away. So April has to chase after the dog and yell at it to get the TP back. Talk about Salt in the wound. It was really funny.
We headed back up the Quiberon peninsula and got on a great bike path. We detoured for about a mile to look at the surfing beach. Sure enough it was really sweet. 3-5 foot swells, perfect breaks, I counted over 100 surfers spread across about 1-2 miles, and it was still early in the morning.
Ok back on the bike path, it curved around and followed the shore. Then we finally hit a road, no traffic, we could really move, finally. Then we had the option for the path again. April loves the freakin paths. I’m trying to be a serious cyclist here. I’m imagining I’m in the tour de france, shirt open, sweating bullets, straining up the Alp d’Heuz, lean and mean, cool sunglassses. Instead we’re riding along with kids and middle-aged ladies all on upright bikes; bonjour madam! Ca-va?
So of course we take the sandy bike path. Sigh. It was pretty but there was this beautiful deserted road right near us. Anyway we hit the little town of Etel and we going to have to get on a busy road to cross this inlet. We passed a Tourist Info place and were asking directions to avoid the busy road, when the guy says just take the little ferry. He comes outside and even shows us where it is; sure enough there’s the boat coming in right now. Awesome. It cost about 1E and takes 2-3 minutes to cross. Huge winner. Then we found out there was another boat that would avoid the highway going in to Lorient. After we did our mildly lost meandering for about an hour or two we got to the next inlet. We headed down to the port and April was starved.
There were two restaurants there, I suggested the one that seemed more high-end. I ordered a steak frites, and April didn’t like the menu much but she orders an Andouille suusage. She had a sausage in a roll the previous day and it was ok. The food comes, and April starts gagging when the plate is put in front of her. It turns out this sausage is made from pig tripe (stomach lining). The sausage was cut into slices, displayed beautifully across the plate, it was totally undercooked, was all pink and shimmery from the stomach lining, and it had the most god-awful barnyard smell you can imagine. Smelled like stinky feet on a dead person that had been buried in pig shit. Seriously. I took a bite, I couldn’t even swallow it. It tasted as bad as it smelled. Worse single thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. So she sends it back, of course the waiter and chef are confused and offended; and she lost her appetite. I ate my steak while she fumed. Of course it was my fault for suggesting the expensive restaurant. Ha-ha. She never orders the right thing. No skills.
Off we go to catch the ferry, we go thru Loriet, a bigger town, but there’s no traffic cause it’s Sunday. In fact we kick ass on the larger road as the gradients are better than our small back roads. It’s hot. I’m pouring sweat, we’re finally doing some serious riding on real road!
We get to the coast at Fort Bloque and it’s packed. Feels like Hampton beach. But the interesting thing is the French don’t seem to snack that much. They were all walking to the beach with just a towel. Not tons of food like we would have in the States. It also means there’s a lot less trash. The trash buckets are never full cause there’s no cokes and big macs to full them up. We stop for a drink and April get a great tip from the waiter for a hotel in the next town and that there’s a pedestrian bridge up ahead so we can avoid another highway. We call ahead and reserve a room.
BTW - While we were having our drink, two different circus convoys passed us on the road. They have a ton of small local circuses here. We’ve passed 3-4 already. These are smallish types of circuses, if you’ll remember the Big Apple circus, where we brought the kids when they were young, was modeled after these small Euro circuses.
We head off and aim for the pedestrian bridge, can’t find it, ask at a bar and sure enough the guy runs out and shows us another boat to cross a channel. It will lead us right to our town/hotel. What a life-saver as we were pretty hot and burnt out by now; long day, no sleep the previous night, too much traffic on a couple of the roads, and don’t forget that tripe for lunch.
We land in the town, ride up a killer hill looking for our Auberge, can’t find it, ask around and it’s back down the hill where the boat arrived. Down we go, find the place, it’s got a different name but it is the place we called ahead to. The room is good. Cool. Quiet. Water-view. Cool old building. Great dinner: clams in butter/garlic, I get a scallop/fish dish in a white broth, April got a scallop brochette, we shared a huge plate of home-made fries, and a salad, accompanied by a nice chilled dry white wine. Plus a April got a flotette (custard with little boats of meringue floating on top) and I got a peach melba. We were stuffed. We hot the sack and passed out by 9:00. Great sleep.
A geography note: we’re currently touring along the south central coast of Brittany. The main highways are about 10 miles inland. And there are a series of inlets, rivers, ports all along the coast. There is no coastal road. But there are many different back roads that make their way across the farms/fields/villages along the coast. So we’re zigzagging along the coast. Often crossing the inlets by tiny ferry, sometimes having to ride 5-10 miles inland to get around and back down to the coast.
Anyway April kept getting more angry as the night wore on. I was actually falling in/out of sleep, until she would wake me up. Plus as you all know, I’m the master of staying calm nowadays.
We wanted to get an early start so after a 2-3 hour sleep we awoke at ~8:00 and got out of there quickly. As we were packing the wankster next door has his puppies running loose. April’s stuff was in a pile on the ground and one of the dogs grabs the toilet paper and runs away. So April has to chase after the dog and yell at it to get the TP back. Talk about Salt in the wound. It was really funny.
We headed back up the Quiberon peninsula and got on a great bike path. We detoured for about a mile to look at the surfing beach. Sure enough it was really sweet. 3-5 foot swells, perfect breaks, I counted over 100 surfers spread across about 1-2 miles, and it was still early in the morning.
Ok back on the bike path, it curved around and followed the shore. Then we finally hit a road, no traffic, we could really move, finally. Then we had the option for the path again. April loves the freakin paths. I’m trying to be a serious cyclist here. I’m imagining I’m in the tour de france, shirt open, sweating bullets, straining up the Alp d’Heuz, lean and mean, cool sunglassses. Instead we’re riding along with kids and middle-aged ladies all on upright bikes; bonjour madam! Ca-va?
So of course we take the sandy bike path. Sigh. It was pretty but there was this beautiful deserted road right near us. Anyway we hit the little town of Etel and we going to have to get on a busy road to cross this inlet. We passed a Tourist Info place and were asking directions to avoid the busy road, when the guy says just take the little ferry. He comes outside and even shows us where it is; sure enough there’s the boat coming in right now. Awesome. It cost about 1E and takes 2-3 minutes to cross. Huge winner. Then we found out there was another boat that would avoid the highway going in to Lorient. After we did our mildly lost meandering for about an hour or two we got to the next inlet. We headed down to the port and April was starved.
There were two restaurants there, I suggested the one that seemed more high-end. I ordered a steak frites, and April didn’t like the menu much but she orders an Andouille suusage. She had a sausage in a roll the previous day and it was ok. The food comes, and April starts gagging when the plate is put in front of her. It turns out this sausage is made from pig tripe (stomach lining). The sausage was cut into slices, displayed beautifully across the plate, it was totally undercooked, was all pink and shimmery from the stomach lining, and it had the most god-awful barnyard smell you can imagine. Smelled like stinky feet on a dead person that had been buried in pig shit. Seriously. I took a bite, I couldn’t even swallow it. It tasted as bad as it smelled. Worse single thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. So she sends it back, of course the waiter and chef are confused and offended; and she lost her appetite. I ate my steak while she fumed. Of course it was my fault for suggesting the expensive restaurant. Ha-ha. She never orders the right thing. No skills.
Off we go to catch the ferry, we go thru Loriet, a bigger town, but there’s no traffic cause it’s Sunday. In fact we kick ass on the larger road as the gradients are better than our small back roads. It’s hot. I’m pouring sweat, we’re finally doing some serious riding on real road!
We get to the coast at Fort Bloque and it’s packed. Feels like Hampton beach. But the interesting thing is the French don’t seem to snack that much. They were all walking to the beach with just a towel. Not tons of food like we would have in the States. It also means there’s a lot less trash. The trash buckets are never full cause there’s no cokes and big macs to full them up. We stop for a drink and April get a great tip from the waiter for a hotel in the next town and that there’s a pedestrian bridge up ahead so we can avoid another highway. We call ahead and reserve a room.
BTW - While we were having our drink, two different circus convoys passed us on the road. They have a ton of small local circuses here. We’ve passed 3-4 already. These are smallish types of circuses, if you’ll remember the Big Apple circus, where we brought the kids when they were young, was modeled after these small Euro circuses.
We head off and aim for the pedestrian bridge, can’t find it, ask at a bar and sure enough the guy runs out and shows us another boat to cross a channel. It will lead us right to our town/hotel. What a life-saver as we were pretty hot and burnt out by now; long day, no sleep the previous night, too much traffic on a couple of the roads, and don’t forget that tripe for lunch.
We land in the town, ride up a killer hill looking for our Auberge, can’t find it, ask around and it’s back down the hill where the boat arrived. Down we go, find the place, it’s got a different name but it is the place we called ahead to. The room is good. Cool. Quiet. Water-view. Cool old building. Great dinner: clams in butter/garlic, I get a scallop/fish dish in a white broth, April got a scallop brochette, we shared a huge plate of home-made fries, and a salad, accompanied by a nice chilled dry white wine. Plus a April got a flotette (custard with little boats of meringue floating on top) and I got a peach melba. We were stuffed. We hot the sack and passed out by 9:00. Great sleep.
A geography note: we’re currently touring along the south central coast of Brittany. The main highways are about 10 miles inland. And there are a series of inlets, rivers, ports all along the coast. There is no coastal road. But there are many different back roads that make their way across the farms/fields/villages along the coast. So we’re zigzagging along the coast. Often crossing the inlets by tiny ferry, sometimes having to ride 5-10 miles inland to get around and back down to the coast.
Camping
Here I sit on my nice fat Big Agnes air mattress, while April is laying on her super thin/lite Thermarest; she’s complaining my mattress is too comfortable. But when I bought it I told her she should get one, but no, she didn’t want one. Now she wants mine, and she’s not getting it! Ha-ha
We’re camping tonite. We almost sent the camping gear home yesterday but decided to keep it to try camping at least once. And we couldn’t find a good hotel/room so it’s good we have it.
We woke up at the nice hotel outside of Carnac, standard French bfast of croissant, baguette, yogurt, tea; missing the big full English bfast. We decided to explore the Quiberon peninsula. Its juts south of the mainland about 20 Kms, it’s quite narrow across for much of the way, maybe 100 meters to 1KM, down at the south end it expands to about 3KM wide.
At the first town we saw a great old hotel which was getting a wonderful sea breeze but they were full. April almost cried she liked it so much. It was then we decided to camp. We checked out the local camping site. It’s huge, more than 500+ sites. It clearly a zoo, kids on bikes everywhere, radios/Tvs blaring, dogs barking, lots of big groups in campers, maybe 2000+ people here. We pass this guy in his tiny black bikini, smoking a butt, shaving with his radio blaring, and we say we can’t stay here. We tour around much of the place, can’t find anything acceptable, then right back before the entrance we find an ok site backed by some trees. So April holds it while I go pay, when I get back she’s got this alarmed look on her face, and the shaving guy was in the tent next to us. His radio is blasting as I write; 9:30 at night. No idea when he’ll be going to bed (us either). Plus he’s got two little puppies that are growling/squealing at each other.
After we setup our tent we headed down the west coast thru some towns looking for lunch. Came upon a local mussel fest in the little harbor town of Portivy. I got the mussels and fries, April got a sausage sandwich, and we had a beer. Really nice local color.
Then we toured down the “sauvage coast”. Nice cliffs/rock. Looks like the area around Carmel, and Big Sur (but no trees here). As usual a strong wind from the west.
We hit a few more towns the headed back north to our camping site to enjoy the beaches. We sat at the west coast beach, gorgeous beach, it was low tide, we counted over 30 kite surfers going at the same time. And they had the wind-carts, sails on little dune buggie carts. April wanted to try one until she saw them go on two wheels and sometimes tip. They love their water activities here.
After a few hours chilling we headed back to our camp site, picked up a rotisserie chicken and potatoes (which are cooked in oil/fat right under the dripping chickens; also a baguette which was kind of like our napkin and a beer. Then we went to the eastside beach which was calmer, away from the wind. Man, what’s better than hot chicken, potatoes and bread to mop up everything.?!
Then we showered, setup our bags/pads, walked around the monstrous camping site. They even had a little restaurant area, beers, pizzas, ice cream, sandwiches, baked goods, etc. This is real salt-of-the-earth French middle class types. We fit right in! J
We planned our route for tomorrow (or should I say our “controlled wandering while being semi-lost“). The we hit the kindels to read before sleep. Who knows when that will come.
My sleeping pad is really really nice.
We’re camping tonite. We almost sent the camping gear home yesterday but decided to keep it to try camping at least once. And we couldn’t find a good hotel/room so it’s good we have it.
We woke up at the nice hotel outside of Carnac, standard French bfast of croissant, baguette, yogurt, tea; missing the big full English bfast. We decided to explore the Quiberon peninsula. Its juts south of the mainland about 20 Kms, it’s quite narrow across for much of the way, maybe 100 meters to 1KM, down at the south end it expands to about 3KM wide.
At the first town we saw a great old hotel which was getting a wonderful sea breeze but they were full. April almost cried she liked it so much. It was then we decided to camp. We checked out the local camping site. It’s huge, more than 500+ sites. It clearly a zoo, kids on bikes everywhere, radios/Tvs blaring, dogs barking, lots of big groups in campers, maybe 2000+ people here. We pass this guy in his tiny black bikini, smoking a butt, shaving with his radio blaring, and we say we can’t stay here. We tour around much of the place, can’t find anything acceptable, then right back before the entrance we find an ok site backed by some trees. So April holds it while I go pay, when I get back she’s got this alarmed look on her face, and the shaving guy was in the tent next to us. His radio is blasting as I write; 9:30 at night. No idea when he’ll be going to bed (us either). Plus he’s got two little puppies that are growling/squealing at each other.
After we setup our tent we headed down the west coast thru some towns looking for lunch. Came upon a local mussel fest in the little harbor town of Portivy. I got the mussels and fries, April got a sausage sandwich, and we had a beer. Really nice local color.
Then we toured down the “sauvage coast”. Nice cliffs/rock. Looks like the area around Carmel, and Big Sur (but no trees here). As usual a strong wind from the west.
We hit a few more towns the headed back north to our camping site to enjoy the beaches. We sat at the west coast beach, gorgeous beach, it was low tide, we counted over 30 kite surfers going at the same time. And they had the wind-carts, sails on little dune buggie carts. April wanted to try one until she saw them go on two wheels and sometimes tip. They love their water activities here.
After a few hours chilling we headed back to our camp site, picked up a rotisserie chicken and potatoes (which are cooked in oil/fat right under the dripping chickens; also a baguette which was kind of like our napkin and a beer. Then we went to the eastside beach which was calmer, away from the wind. Man, what’s better than hot chicken, potatoes and bread to mop up everything.?!
Then we showered, setup our bags/pads, walked around the monstrous camping site. They even had a little restaurant area, beers, pizzas, ice cream, sandwiches, baked goods, etc. This is real salt-of-the-earth French middle class types. We fit right in! J
We planned our route for tomorrow (or should I say our “controlled wandering while being semi-lost“). The we hit the kindels to read before sleep. Who knows when that will come.
My sleeping pad is really really nice.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Megaliths in Carnac and a big Thanks.
A new addition, we now have pics with the blog. I can't figure out how to place the pics interspersed with the text (that I've already written) so for today they'll all be up front.
Check out the wind/whitecaps outside the habor.
The rock formations outside of carnac.
April riding out on the peninsula, check out the nice beach behind her.
A rotting boat along the shore.
Peter riding on one of the smaller bike paths.
April reminded me I hadn't mentioned the weather at all. The first day of riding it sprinkled on us about 5-6 times. So it looks like a big rain is coming, then it dissipates somewhat, then we get a light rain; doesn't last long we usually just ride thru it. The constant has been the wind. It's always blowing, sometimes hard, and usually from the west although sometimes it's swirly. The wind comes all the way from the USA/Canada uninterrupted for the most part. But it's also been sunny each day. Mixed sun and clouds. Also very cool nights.
Last night it did rain like hell, and the wind was really blowing. remember we ditched some of our rainwear rather than carry it, but luckily we awoke to a clear blue sky. Nice bfast outdoors, standard bread products. We asked our hotel owners if they knew of a hotel in Carnac, they did and called it, got us a reservation for the night, and away we went. Got right onto a bike path and rode down one side and up the other of a beautiful peninsula. Bays on either side, gorgeous beach at the end. We rode out to the very tip, it was like the Marginal Way at Ogunquit, wind was blowing like crazy and we chatted up an old French guy. He had lived in Boston for 2 years, his daughter lives there. he explained that during WWII there were lots of germans in this area as they thought they Allies might land here. Very friendly guy and before he pedaled on he thanked us for the Americans coming over and saving France from the Germans. He was very animated and got moist eyes as he told us this. Very moving and impactful for us.
Then we headed over to Carnac. We had to cross on a busy bridge, we rode on the narrow sidewalk, cars on our left, barely had room for our panniers, the wind started blowing, if we bumped the rail to our right we would rebound into the road, or we could just get blown directly into the road, I heard April scream "Peter!", but I couldn't stop, just yelled "keep riding." She's tough, I knew she could make it! Ha-ha. I get to the other side and look back and she's pushing along with her feet rather than pedaling. Reminded me of the time I had to leave her behind in order to head off the buffalo in Yellowstone during a winter ski trip. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there. Better get used to it.
After the bridge we went inland to avoid the traffic, we took a few wrong turns but meandered in the right direction; then lo and behold, this is the exact route for looking at all the megaliths and other ancient rock formations for which this area is famous. Pretty incredible, 100s-1000s of rocks lined up and standing up. Weird. Seems they were put up about 5000-2000 BC. Some of the rocks were quite large, about the size of a car, and supposedly the rocks weren't from this area, they had to be hauled in (but they say that about all these places don't they?). No one is clear exactly the purpose. I'm thinking it was some burial markers.
Then we had to hit a busy road again but found our hotel. It was out of town and April balked at the front door. She thought it might be too far on the busy road back into town. But we had a reservation and I didn't want to go searching around town for a room. So we start talking with the guy, and it's obvious the hotel is run by two gay guys, and that clinched the deal for us to stay. Whenever possible we stay at hotels run by gay guys, it's one of April's rules. They're always better; cleaner, better design, better decorating, better products (soap, sheets, etc). What can I say; it's true.
And it turns out there are backroads into two towns, so all is well. This hotel has a swimming pool, we had nice robes in the room (remember the owners), we went out to swim and the rain came again. But it was nice 20 minutes later.
Then we rode into Carnac center, checked out the beaches, but the whole area was too crowded for us. So we came back to our "country hotel", had dinner at a creperie down the road. We had these Breton Gallettes. It's like a buckwheat crepe with filling of your choice (veggies, meats, eggs). Not much to them. I could eat 3-4 on a good night. But had some nice tap beers. Then headed home to our hotel.
And we found we were locked out. There was a keypad, and we seemed to remember the guy said to keep your key with you. But we couldn't find anywhere to insert the key. So we're standing there like idiots, and then I remember the owner said something about a Valentine's day code. Sure enough we plugged in 1402 (euro ordering) and the door opened.
Christ we can't remember anything these days.
Check out the wind/whitecaps outside the habor.
The rock formations outside of carnac.
April riding out on the peninsula, check out the nice beach behind her.
A rotting boat along the shore.
Peter riding on one of the smaller bike paths.
April reminded me I hadn't mentioned the weather at all. The first day of riding it sprinkled on us about 5-6 times. So it looks like a big rain is coming, then it dissipates somewhat, then we get a light rain; doesn't last long we usually just ride thru it. The constant has been the wind. It's always blowing, sometimes hard, and usually from the west although sometimes it's swirly. The wind comes all the way from the USA/Canada uninterrupted for the most part. But it's also been sunny each day. Mixed sun and clouds. Also very cool nights.
Last night it did rain like hell, and the wind was really blowing. remember we ditched some of our rainwear rather than carry it, but luckily we awoke to a clear blue sky. Nice bfast outdoors, standard bread products. We asked our hotel owners if they knew of a hotel in Carnac, they did and called it, got us a reservation for the night, and away we went. Got right onto a bike path and rode down one side and up the other of a beautiful peninsula. Bays on either side, gorgeous beach at the end. We rode out to the very tip, it was like the Marginal Way at Ogunquit, wind was blowing like crazy and we chatted up an old French guy. He had lived in Boston for 2 years, his daughter lives there. he explained that during WWII there were lots of germans in this area as they thought they Allies might land here. Very friendly guy and before he pedaled on he thanked us for the Americans coming over and saving France from the Germans. He was very animated and got moist eyes as he told us this. Very moving and impactful for us.
Then we headed over to Carnac. We had to cross on a busy bridge, we rode on the narrow sidewalk, cars on our left, barely had room for our panniers, the wind started blowing, if we bumped the rail to our right we would rebound into the road, or we could just get blown directly into the road, I heard April scream "Peter!", but I couldn't stop, just yelled "keep riding." She's tough, I knew she could make it! Ha-ha. I get to the other side and look back and she's pushing along with her feet rather than pedaling. Reminded me of the time I had to leave her behind in order to head off the buffalo in Yellowstone during a winter ski trip. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there. Better get used to it.
After the bridge we went inland to avoid the traffic, we took a few wrong turns but meandered in the right direction; then lo and behold, this is the exact route for looking at all the megaliths and other ancient rock formations for which this area is famous. Pretty incredible, 100s-1000s of rocks lined up and standing up. Weird. Seems they were put up about 5000-2000 BC. Some of the rocks were quite large, about the size of a car, and supposedly the rocks weren't from this area, they had to be hauled in (but they say that about all these places don't they?). No one is clear exactly the purpose. I'm thinking it was some burial markers.
Then we had to hit a busy road again but found our hotel. It was out of town and April balked at the front door. She thought it might be too far on the busy road back into town. But we had a reservation and I didn't want to go searching around town for a room. So we start talking with the guy, and it's obvious the hotel is run by two gay guys, and that clinched the deal for us to stay. Whenever possible we stay at hotels run by gay guys, it's one of April's rules. They're always better; cleaner, better design, better decorating, better products (soap, sheets, etc). What can I say; it's true.
And it turns out there are backroads into two towns, so all is well. This hotel has a swimming pool, we had nice robes in the room (remember the owners), we went out to swim and the rain came again. But it was nice 20 minutes later.
Then we rode into Carnac center, checked out the beaches, but the whole area was too crowded for us. So we came back to our "country hotel", had dinner at a creperie down the road. We had these Breton Gallettes. It's like a buckwheat crepe with filling of your choice (veggies, meats, eggs). Not much to them. I could eat 3-4 on a good night. But had some nice tap beers. Then headed home to our hotel.
And we found we were locked out. There was a keypad, and we seemed to remember the guy said to keep your key with you. But we couldn't find anywhere to insert the key. So we're standing there like idiots, and then I remember the owner said something about a Valentine's day code. Sure enough we plugged in 1402 (euro ordering) and the door opened.
Christ we can't remember anything these days.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
First day riding. First day lost.
Finally we start our ride. Up early for bfast at 8:00. Nice host, nice B+B, bfast was only ok. From our walks yesterday we knew how to ride out of town, we pass by a beautiful harbor and head out on nice little side roads.
A few map comments. We have a German booklet describing 3 rides in Brittany in good detail, 1:75000. But they don't cover much of Brittany. Then we have a Michelin road atlas for all of Brittany that is 1:200000. Not bad under usual circumstances. But it turns out Brittany has a million little side roads. And a few main roads that have too much traffic. Not too many middle type of roads. So we're always on the tiny side roads.
They also have a ton of of bike paths. They even have some maps of the larger bike paths called Voies Vertes which are built on old train/farm paths. these are cool but usually hard-packed dirt. Slower and somewhat boring but April likes them.
Anyway away we go and before long we realize, it's not going to be the case, like the coast-coast walk in England, that we're occasionally lost; we're going to be unsure of exactly where we are almost all of the time. It's almost impossible to stay on a planned route. the German booklet, which we can't read the descriptions by the way, seems accurate, but there are lots of roads it doesn't show. And we don't have a bike computer to calculate distance because it's too high-tech (also there's the small factor that I never put it on my bike because I have these high-end carbon fiber handlebars that are too wide for the mounting clamp, (I heard about that a few times today)). So we ride along, merrily missing our turns, happy knowing there'll be some other turn/path that brings us to our target destination. Or we hop on some bike path that seems to be heading in the right direction.
Anyway the morning works out fine. We're riding along the Gulf of Morbihan which is a brilliant (whoops that's British), or should I say superbe inland gulf. We're on these tiny roads, no cars, hayfields, marshes, islands, seagulls. It looks just like the marshes behind Drakes Island Maine, and in this moment I know the trip will be a success. We can just feel it. What a great place for a bike ride!
I don't know why we (I?) have a penchant for making comparisons (like Avatar was "Dances with Wolves with Aliens"), perhaps it's cause everything relates to everything else, or that we always need a framework for absorbing something, anyway this place is like Maine plus England plus France all rolled into one. Kind of looks like Rhode Island but with French food.
We find our first ferry, there's a big ferry sign on the road. We get to the point and there's this tiny 10 person flat-bottom aluminum boat, and sure enough it's the ferry. Takes just 1-2 minutes to cross. We ride along, often on the wrong road, then we find out first bike path and take it even tho we don't know where it goes. Then we hit the town of Sarzeau and it was market day. Now I'm really happy as the first booth we see is doing rotisserie chickens! Yea baby. Our stomachs have settled and we're ready to eat!
We get a local type of baguette, lots of seeds in it, 1/2 chicken, some pan-fried potatoes, April also gets an eclair. It's all fantastic. And the French people all say bon-appetit as they pass us. They were so happy to see someone enjoying their food. This is my kind of place. the market was fantastic, a huge range of seafood, great fruit/vegies. April found some great prunes, tasted one, but the guy only sold 1 KG bags (2.2 pounds). But our bags are too heavy for 2 freaking pounds of prunes, not to mention the dangerous side-effects. But we did buy the most amazing little chocolate cake/fudge like thing. Was sort of like a flourless choc cake but more pudding like. It's so rich and satisfying you just need like a little pinch. But April ate about 1/2 of it.
We continue on after lunch, wind our way too far down a penisula cause we were lost again, then get on a good bike path that brings us right into Port Navalo, where we wait for the ferry to Locmariaquer. What a great name. If I have another child I think I would name her Locmariaquer. Ha-ha. For those interested in the local culture, I'm recommending a summer read of "The Oysters of Locmariaquer". Dan/Diane/Katie?
We wait with a beer/coke, the ferry comes, the skippers head up to the cafe for a coffee. no need to rush. I take a picture of April at the helm. It's an easy yet beautiful boat ride across the mouth of the Gulf de Morbihan. This huge bay is gated by this small opening just a few KMs across. We locate the Trois Fontaine hotel which we had researched on tripadvisor. April is a little testy because I had found it, she likes to find all the hotels, but the owner was was super nice so April started to like it more. Had a great dinner on the harbor, April ahd scallops and I had salmon, also had risotto, some shredded zucchini, and a little souffle thingie on the plate. All delicious. April was thrilled because she had a Far Breton, which was a prune/custard like thing.
We walk back to the Hotel thrilled with the day and the dinner. Superbe!
Funny note of the day: about 1/2 way thru the day I noticed April had the these bright red marks where the front of her helmet was pushing on her forehead. Then later in the day she says "I'm getting a headache". So I say, "well loosen your helmut". Sure enough she's like, oh that's much better. No skills. That's my travel buddy. She doesn't complain about much.
A few map comments. We have a German booklet describing 3 rides in Brittany in good detail, 1:75000. But they don't cover much of Brittany. Then we have a Michelin road atlas for all of Brittany that is 1:200000. Not bad under usual circumstances. But it turns out Brittany has a million little side roads. And a few main roads that have too much traffic. Not too many middle type of roads. So we're always on the tiny side roads.
They also have a ton of of bike paths. They even have some maps of the larger bike paths called Voies Vertes which are built on old train/farm paths. these are cool but usually hard-packed dirt. Slower and somewhat boring but April likes them.
Anyway away we go and before long we realize, it's not going to be the case, like the coast-coast walk in England, that we're occasionally lost; we're going to be unsure of exactly where we are almost all of the time. It's almost impossible to stay on a planned route. the German booklet, which we can't read the descriptions by the way, seems accurate, but there are lots of roads it doesn't show. And we don't have a bike computer to calculate distance because it's too high-tech (also there's the small factor that I never put it on my bike because I have these high-end carbon fiber handlebars that are too wide for the mounting clamp, (I heard about that a few times today)). So we ride along, merrily missing our turns, happy knowing there'll be some other turn/path that brings us to our target destination. Or we hop on some bike path that seems to be heading in the right direction.
Anyway the morning works out fine. We're riding along the Gulf of Morbihan which is a brilliant (whoops that's British), or should I say superbe inland gulf. We're on these tiny roads, no cars, hayfields, marshes, islands, seagulls. It looks just like the marshes behind Drakes Island Maine, and in this moment I know the trip will be a success. We can just feel it. What a great place for a bike ride!
I don't know why we (I?) have a penchant for making comparisons (like Avatar was "Dances with Wolves with Aliens"), perhaps it's cause everything relates to everything else, or that we always need a framework for absorbing something, anyway this place is like Maine plus England plus France all rolled into one. Kind of looks like Rhode Island but with French food.
We find our first ferry, there's a big ferry sign on the road. We get to the point and there's this tiny 10 person flat-bottom aluminum boat, and sure enough it's the ferry. Takes just 1-2 minutes to cross. We ride along, often on the wrong road, then we find out first bike path and take it even tho we don't know where it goes. Then we hit the town of Sarzeau and it was market day. Now I'm really happy as the first booth we see is doing rotisserie chickens! Yea baby. Our stomachs have settled and we're ready to eat!
We get a local type of baguette, lots of seeds in it, 1/2 chicken, some pan-fried potatoes, April also gets an eclair. It's all fantastic. And the French people all say bon-appetit as they pass us. They were so happy to see someone enjoying their food. This is my kind of place. the market was fantastic, a huge range of seafood, great fruit/vegies. April found some great prunes, tasted one, but the guy only sold 1 KG bags (2.2 pounds). But our bags are too heavy for 2 freaking pounds of prunes, not to mention the dangerous side-effects. But we did buy the most amazing little chocolate cake/fudge like thing. Was sort of like a flourless choc cake but more pudding like. It's so rich and satisfying you just need like a little pinch. But April ate about 1/2 of it.
We continue on after lunch, wind our way too far down a penisula cause we were lost again, then get on a good bike path that brings us right into Port Navalo, where we wait for the ferry to Locmariaquer. What a great name. If I have another child I think I would name her Locmariaquer. Ha-ha. For those interested in the local culture, I'm recommending a summer read of "The Oysters of Locmariaquer". Dan/Diane/Katie?
We wait with a beer/coke, the ferry comes, the skippers head up to the cafe for a coffee. no need to rush. I take a picture of April at the helm. It's an easy yet beautiful boat ride across the mouth of the Gulf de Morbihan. This huge bay is gated by this small opening just a few KMs across. We locate the Trois Fontaine hotel which we had researched on tripadvisor. April is a little testy because I had found it, she likes to find all the hotels, but the owner was was super nice so April started to like it more. Had a great dinner on the harbor, April ahd scallops and I had salmon, also had risotto, some shredded zucchini, and a little souffle thingie on the plate. All delicious. April was thrilled because she had a Far Breton, which was a prune/custard like thing.
We walk back to the Hotel thrilled with the day and the dinner. Superbe!
Funny note of the day: about 1/2 way thru the day I noticed April had the these bright red marks where the front of her helmet was pushing on her forehead. Then later in the day she says "I'm getting a headache". So I say, "well loosen your helmut". Sure enough she's like, oh that's much better. No skills. That's my travel buddy. She doesn't complain about much.
A-Fair in Vannes
Finally we’re heading out into the country today. Paris in the heat and crowds can be too much.
We picked up some croissants/bread and went to the apt to get ready to go. Eth and Maddie were up and had made bfast already. I uploaded some blog entries, while April yelled at me to get ready to catch our train. After all the fuss we got out of there at 10:00 just like we planned. Then as usual we got lost on the bike ride to the Gare Montparnesse, where our train was to leave at 11:00 for Vannes. Not much traffic but the map we had was terrible , left Eth/maddie the good one. So we ended up south of the station and heading south until we asked someone. She said it was behind us in the opposite direction, of course I didn’t believe her, but April made me go the way she said, and sure enough there it was. This seems like a continuation of our C2C walk last year. Often lost.
So the monitors finally list the track for our train, it’s a mad dash down the platform, we had reserved spots on the TGV for our bikes, there are only 2 reserved spots, otherwise you must have your bike in a bag and slide it into the regular spots for luggage. So we ask one train guy, he mutters some indecipherable French (at least to my ears), ask a second guy, and show him we paid for the reserved slot, he says there are no reserved slots, I’m starting to heat up now, cause there is clearly no more room on the regular luggage compartments, so I had a little chat with PEM, then finally a low-level guy comes off the train and the one guy refers me to him, he speaks a tiny bit of English and does know where to put our bikes. It turns out that on our car there were 4 sideway seats that folded up and then we could put our bikes there. And there were instructions right above the seats, but we hadn’t seen them cause people had luggage on those seats. Anyway problem nicely solved.
The ride was easy, but it poured much of the time. Now it had been so hot in Paris that we said the hell with our neoprene booties, which are super important in the rain, and I even ditched my raincoat, too heavy. But we do have our regular riding coats, which are water-resistant. April also has a super light raincoat that Eth just had to buy before our Norway trip. He wore it once then sweated too much in it.
So we got to Vannes, rode into town, and wonder of wonders they were having a big fair. There aren’t many people who like a local fair more than the Tiger. She charges around loving everything, and always wanting to go over here or there and look at more stuff. I usually just want to find the food section. Vannes is a fantastic old town. Beautiful medieval town center, huge walls for defense around the twon center. And then the only thing the Tiger likes more than a fair, is a fair with a parade! And sure enough there’s going to be a big parade, with all sorts of local costumes/music. Holy shit we hit the jackpot. April stays true to form and whenever she hears some music wants to rush over to see the parade but she can’t get a good view cause there’s too many people. Finally she gets a great spot where the parade is heading and gets right in the front row. Happy as a pig in shit. We wait, and wait, and wait. Finally hear the music coming our way. Parade is pretty good. She’s taking pictures but then can’t watch well enough so she makes me take pictures. Finally it winds down and we can eat. But it was early, like 6:00 and the full menu wasn’t ready yet, so the restaurant wasn’t great, but it was sustenance.
Then we headed back to our romantic B+B to pursue whatever came up!! ha-ha
Cold and windy that night, Needed a down comforter. Brittany seems really cool.
We picked up some croissants/bread and went to the apt to get ready to go. Eth and Maddie were up and had made bfast already. I uploaded some blog entries, while April yelled at me to get ready to catch our train. After all the fuss we got out of there at 10:00 just like we planned. Then as usual we got lost on the bike ride to the Gare Montparnesse, where our train was to leave at 11:00 for Vannes. Not much traffic but the map we had was terrible , left Eth/maddie the good one. So we ended up south of the station and heading south until we asked someone. She said it was behind us in the opposite direction, of course I didn’t believe her, but April made me go the way she said, and sure enough there it was. This seems like a continuation of our C2C walk last year. Often lost.
So the monitors finally list the track for our train, it’s a mad dash down the platform, we had reserved spots on the TGV for our bikes, there are only 2 reserved spots, otherwise you must have your bike in a bag and slide it into the regular spots for luggage. So we ask one train guy, he mutters some indecipherable French (at least to my ears), ask a second guy, and show him we paid for the reserved slot, he says there are no reserved slots, I’m starting to heat up now, cause there is clearly no more room on the regular luggage compartments, so I had a little chat with PEM, then finally a low-level guy comes off the train and the one guy refers me to him, he speaks a tiny bit of English and does know where to put our bikes. It turns out that on our car there were 4 sideway seats that folded up and then we could put our bikes there. And there were instructions right above the seats, but we hadn’t seen them cause people had luggage on those seats. Anyway problem nicely solved.
The ride was easy, but it poured much of the time. Now it had been so hot in Paris that we said the hell with our neoprene booties, which are super important in the rain, and I even ditched my raincoat, too heavy. But we do have our regular riding coats, which are water-resistant. April also has a super light raincoat that Eth just had to buy before our Norway trip. He wore it once then sweated too much in it.
So we got to Vannes, rode into town, and wonder of wonders they were having a big fair. There aren’t many people who like a local fair more than the Tiger. She charges around loving everything, and always wanting to go over here or there and look at more stuff. I usually just want to find the food section. Vannes is a fantastic old town. Beautiful medieval town center, huge walls for defense around the twon center. And then the only thing the Tiger likes more than a fair, is a fair with a parade! And sure enough there’s going to be a big parade, with all sorts of local costumes/music. Holy shit we hit the jackpot. April stays true to form and whenever she hears some music wants to rush over to see the parade but she can’t get a good view cause there’s too many people. Finally she gets a great spot where the parade is heading and gets right in the front row. Happy as a pig in shit. We wait, and wait, and wait. Finally hear the music coming our way. Parade is pretty good. She’s taking pictures but then can’t watch well enough so she makes me take pictures. Finally it winds down and we can eat. But it was early, like 6:00 and the full menu wasn’t ready yet, so the restaurant wasn’t great, but it was sustenance.
Then we headed back to our romantic B+B to pursue whatever came up!! ha-ha
Cold and windy that night, Needed a down comforter. Brittany seems really cool.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Arc de Triomphe
We woke up and both April and I felt better. It seems like she cleaned out her system with her atomic blast, and I had come back slowly but surely. We headed to the apt to see how Eth/Maddy were doing. They were kind of groggy, it was a little hot/noisy for them but they're used to it from LA. We brought them croissants/bread, we had breakfast, then headed for the Arc de Triomphe at the western end of the Champs-Elysees. We decided to take the metro out there and walk the 4+ Km back. Being wanksters we got off at the wrong metro stop, it was about 1/2 way there but had a similar name. So we walked up the street, and there was a huge line to buy tickets to climb the arc, we didn't want to wait so we just sat at the base by the flame of the unknown soldier. This flame was started in 1920, and is currently the oldest eternal flame in Europe, since the Vestal Virgins fire was eliminated in 394. Side note, I mostly throw in these historical references for my sister Diane, and maybe a few others like Danny O'c, maybe Katie likes this kind of stuff too.
Anyway the Arc is awesome. It's huge. After WWI some guy flew his place thru it. It has all the famous French battles engraved in the stone. The famous generals are listed. The French armies march down the Champs after victories, The Nazis did it, then the Allies marched down after they won. Lots of history there.
Enough with history we were hungry. Rick Steves suggested a great little cafe popular wth the locals and a few blocks off the main drag. It was perfect. Amazing, no tourists even tho it was just 2-3 blocks away. A highlight of the lunch was the fresh kiwi drink that tasted like the fresh-fruit orange from the Goldenrod. Our waiter had spent time in the US and England, we had a nice chat with hm after the lunch.
Then we walked back to the apt. We passed the Louis Vuitton flagship store. There was a line to get in; they only let a fixed number of shoppers in so they can be intimate with the salepeople. Instead we settled for the Hugo Boss store. Eth seemed enraptured.
The architecture on the walk back was amazing. Cool buildings, statues, bridges everywhere you look. The Louvre is monstrous.
Got back chilled, then April had us out walking again towards Lux Gardens and past St. Sulpice (but it was closed). We had Italian for dinner, then hit the sack. Pretty mellow day.
Anyway the Arc is awesome. It's huge. After WWI some guy flew his place thru it. It has all the famous French battles engraved in the stone. The famous generals are listed. The French armies march down the Champs after victories, The Nazis did it, then the Allies marched down after they won. Lots of history there.
Enough with history we were hungry. Rick Steves suggested a great little cafe popular wth the locals and a few blocks off the main drag. It was perfect. Amazing, no tourists even tho it was just 2-3 blocks away. A highlight of the lunch was the fresh kiwi drink that tasted like the fresh-fruit orange from the Goldenrod. Our waiter had spent time in the US and England, we had a nice chat with hm after the lunch.
Then we walked back to the apt. We passed the Louis Vuitton flagship store. There was a line to get in; they only let a fixed number of shoppers in so they can be intimate with the salepeople. Instead we settled for the Hugo Boss store. Eth seemed enraptured.
The architecture on the walk back was amazing. Cool buildings, statues, bridges everywhere you look. The Louvre is monstrous.
Got back chilled, then April had us out walking again towards Lux Gardens and past St. Sulpice (but it was closed). We had Italian for dinner, then hit the sack. Pretty mellow day.
Ethan and Maddy arrive
Recovery day. Man I felt like shit. Even tho it was Sunday a pharmacy near the flat/hotel was open. I got some Tylenol and some probiotics to help my gut. Also got some tea, bananas, rice and veggie soup at the store. I was going on the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, apples sauce/juice, toast). So I had a lite lunch, then went down at 2:00 PM for a 4 hour nap. So sweet. The tiger (April) was going to crazy if she was in the dark hotel room with me for the afternoon, so she headed over to the island where Notre Dame is located. She did the Rick Steves walking tour of the area. Came back about 5:00, napped for an hour. Then April picked up some cooked chicken and beets and a crème caramel, and we had a lite dinner at the flat; I had my rice and soup. I was getting better and her stomach was still grumbling.
Monday. Eth and Maddy were arriving from London. We got a fresh baguette from the bakery. I managed an egg-in-a-cup ™, and then we put our bikes together. The bikes can be broken down to fit in a regulation suitcase. The frames even separate into two pieces. And we had to wait for a package from Chris and Emma, the UPS guy said they would arrive between 10:00 AM and 5:00 PM. Wankster. Anyway he showed at about 1:00. April cleaned the apartments for the lovebirds. And I finished the bikes. Eth/Maddy arrived about 3:00 right on time. We looked at the window and saw them wandering and seemingly lost even tho they were on the right street and all the doors had addresses above them. I hope it won’t be like the “The Stupids Euro Vacation” for those two. Ha-ha.
It was great to see them. They were tired from their previous travel day from Seattle to London. They fell asleep for the last ½ of the World Cup! They loved the flat, don’t seem bothered by the heat or noise, and it did cool off. They promptly made a mess of the place. Ethan pulled out his clothes and they just about filled up the flat. Showed us his new black shirt which he thinks is going to make him look like a Boss for the wedding. As Eth says, he’s gotta look good on the biggest stage of the year vs. POC. Wanksters both of them.
So they napped a little. Then we walked them around the neighborhood. Ate a nice fish/wine place. Then April wanted to walk us to the Pont des Art. I had to run back to the flat for another attack. And then the freaking toilet breaks. It was running when I got in there and the tank wouldn’t fill. Well I was brought up better tha to leave Eth/Maddy with that present, so I spent 10 minutes trying to fix the stupid thing. Christ when was this going to end!? Anyway I got the thing fixed, it was a different Euro model. Then I headed out weak into the night, of course they’re on the far end of the bridge and looking like they want to stay there the whole night, while I’m calculating how long it will take to me to do the pinched-butt sprint back to the flat. To their credit, there was a beautiful breeze along the river. Yet I finally persuade them to head home.
We dropped them off at the flat. Walked the one more block to our nice cold room and settled in for the night.
Then the dam broke! April’s bubbly stomach finally gave out and she had a full-fledged, two-days brewing, once in every 10 years, vicious yet cleansing, outbound delivery. As she is my loving, demure and faithful travel buddy, not to mention my wife of 30 years, I’ve leave out any more details. Suffice to say, I was impressed. Ha-ha.
And now the finger was pointing directly to that damn tuna sandwich because we both shared it. And the observant reader will note that April herself picked that café and sandwich. I was not only in the clear but the tables were turned! I wasn’t guilty of eating something stupid like brain-pate which I saw at this gourmet shop the other day. Man all those pates looked so good but I couldn’t eat them. Anyway it was her turn to cry and whimper. And of course I took loving care of her. I told her to sack up and get to sleep she’d feel better in the morning. Just kidding.
Monday. Eth and Maddy were arriving from London. We got a fresh baguette from the bakery. I managed an egg-in-a-cup ™, and then we put our bikes together. The bikes can be broken down to fit in a regulation suitcase. The frames even separate into two pieces. And we had to wait for a package from Chris and Emma, the UPS guy said they would arrive between 10:00 AM and 5:00 PM. Wankster. Anyway he showed at about 1:00. April cleaned the apartments for the lovebirds. And I finished the bikes. Eth/Maddy arrived about 3:00 right on time. We looked at the window and saw them wandering and seemingly lost even tho they were on the right street and all the doors had addresses above them. I hope it won’t be like the “The Stupids Euro Vacation” for those two. Ha-ha.
It was great to see them. They were tired from their previous travel day from Seattle to London. They fell asleep for the last ½ of the World Cup! They loved the flat, don’t seem bothered by the heat or noise, and it did cool off. They promptly made a mess of the place. Ethan pulled out his clothes and they just about filled up the flat. Showed us his new black shirt which he thinks is going to make him look like a Boss for the wedding. As Eth says, he’s gotta look good on the biggest stage of the year vs. POC. Wanksters both of them.
So they napped a little. Then we walked them around the neighborhood. Ate a nice fish/wine place. Then April wanted to walk us to the Pont des Art. I had to run back to the flat for another attack. And then the freaking toilet breaks. It was running when I got in there and the tank wouldn’t fill. Well I was brought up better tha to leave Eth/Maddy with that present, so I spent 10 minutes trying to fix the stupid thing. Christ when was this going to end!? Anyway I got the thing fixed, it was a different Euro model. Then I headed out weak into the night, of course they’re on the far end of the bridge and looking like they want to stay there the whole night, while I’m calculating how long it will take to me to do the pinched-butt sprint back to the flat. To their credit, there was a beautiful breeze along the river. Yet I finally persuade them to head home.
We dropped them off at the flat. Walked the one more block to our nice cold room and settled in for the night.
Then the dam broke! April’s bubbly stomach finally gave out and she had a full-fledged, two-days brewing, once in every 10 years, vicious yet cleansing, outbound delivery. As she is my loving, demure and faithful travel buddy, not to mention my wife of 30 years, I’ve leave out any more details. Suffice to say, I was impressed. Ha-ha.
And now the finger was pointing directly to that damn tuna sandwich because we both shared it. And the observant reader will note that April herself picked that café and sandwich. I was not only in the clear but the tables were turned! I wasn’t guilty of eating something stupid like brain-pate which I saw at this gourmet shop the other day. Man all those pates looked so good but I couldn’t eat them. Anyway it was her turn to cry and whimper. And of course I took loving care of her. I told her to sack up and get to sleep she’d feel better in the morning. Just kidding.
Food poisoning again!
So we woke up hot and sweaty, a little bit grouchy, but headed out for a day of chores. We had a nice breakfast at a café down the street, petit dejeuner plus an omelet. Then we tackled our chores, get our phone activated, get our train tickets to Brittany, and get some plug adaptors for our electronics. We brought some two-pronged adapters but hadn’t realized the French have a recessed receptacle for their plugs. Got all the chores done within about an hour and a few blocks of the flat. Skillz. So we had time to chill in Luxemburg Gardens. This is a palace/garden built by Marie de Medici in 1615. She was recently widowed by Henry IVth and was homesick for her crib in Florence so she built these fabulous castle. Life’s a bitch. But as luck would have it her son Louis the thirteenth, exiled her to Germany a few years later. Harsh! Hmm, children and their parents, some things never change.
The gardens looked great, so we looked for a place for some sandwiches. April turned down two promising shops, then found a tiny bakery that she thought looked good. We bought a tuna baguette to split and some drinks. I thought the tuna looked a little old, but the chicken salad looked older. Had a pleasant time in the gardens. Little kids doing the sailboat thing. Lots of loungers and picnics, Overall very chill.
Headed back to the flat for the late afternoon sleep. And my stomach started rumbling. Not a good sign. Sure enough after a few hours I had the shits again! Sigh. WTF. This always happens to me. It happened heading to India, bad pork pate on the plane, it happened in England, greenish prosciutto. And now here again. And we weren’t sure if it was the smelly fish, the Lebanese shwarma, or the tuna sandwich. April was getting tired of me getting food poisoning on all our trips, so that brought out her worst nursing behavior and we all know she isn’t good to start with. We tried Japanese food for dinner, as I wasn’t sure if it was food poisoning or just my regular upset stomach. Just had udon noodles/soup. Had to hit the toilet in the middle of dinner. Got back to the flat and it turned into full-fledged food poisoning. By my scale I mean 10+ times. A regular day is 3-5 times, not unusual shits is 5-10 times/day, 10+ is food poisoning.
Now April also had a bubbly stomach, but she was still claiming it was the fish or the Shwarma. Little did she know!
One more note: the Seine at night is awesome. We walked to the Pont des Arts bridge, minutes from the flat. It was filled with 100s of young kids chilling with wine/cheese snacks/etc. You could hardly walk across this pedestrian only bridge it was so crowded. Plus there were lots of drummers, guitarists, etc playing. Really cool scene. Of course we fit right in and were thinking we were very hip until I had a shart and had to run back tight-assed to the flat for another bout with the diarrhee! Ha-ha.
Then we had the night from hell. I had the shits, it was even hotter in the flat. We couldn’t be in the same bed as they’re too small with this heat; it would have been like two sweating whales (or should I say one sweating whale and one svelte dolphin, but you get the picture). I was up in the cell for about an hour whimpering and moaning, really pouring it on to see if I could get April to respond; she finally relents and says “want to sleep down here on the couch?” Finally! So she heads up to the loft, last about 10 minutes, gets too hot and claustrophobic and hauls the futon down to main level. We fall asleep somewhere between 3-5:00AM. Some asshole starts playing music at 5:00AM. Seriously.
I wake up with all my bones aching. Perhaps I got the swine flu? We’re both aging years every sleepless night.
So we woke up and rushed to a hotel with AC just a block from the flat! Checked into a dark, quiet room with AC at 10:00 AM. Skills! Paul Flessner would have been proud of us. He’s the master of going crazy in the heat.
Finally we’re nice and cool. Let the recovery begin. Eth and Maddy were arriving on Monday and we convinced ourselves they need the space in the flat.
The gardens looked great, so we looked for a place for some sandwiches. April turned down two promising shops, then found a tiny bakery that she thought looked good. We bought a tuna baguette to split and some drinks. I thought the tuna looked a little old, but the chicken salad looked older. Had a pleasant time in the gardens. Little kids doing the sailboat thing. Lots of loungers and picnics, Overall very chill.
Headed back to the flat for the late afternoon sleep. And my stomach started rumbling. Not a good sign. Sure enough after a few hours I had the shits again! Sigh. WTF. This always happens to me. It happened heading to India, bad pork pate on the plane, it happened in England, greenish prosciutto. And now here again. And we weren’t sure if it was the smelly fish, the Lebanese shwarma, or the tuna sandwich. April was getting tired of me getting food poisoning on all our trips, so that brought out her worst nursing behavior and we all know she isn’t good to start with. We tried Japanese food for dinner, as I wasn’t sure if it was food poisoning or just my regular upset stomach. Just had udon noodles/soup. Had to hit the toilet in the middle of dinner. Got back to the flat and it turned into full-fledged food poisoning. By my scale I mean 10+ times. A regular day is 3-5 times, not unusual shits is 5-10 times/day, 10+ is food poisoning.
Now April also had a bubbly stomach, but she was still claiming it was the fish or the Shwarma. Little did she know!
One more note: the Seine at night is awesome. We walked to the Pont des Arts bridge, minutes from the flat. It was filled with 100s of young kids chilling with wine/cheese snacks/etc. You could hardly walk across this pedestrian only bridge it was so crowded. Plus there were lots of drummers, guitarists, etc playing. Really cool scene. Of course we fit right in and were thinking we were very hip until I had a shart and had to run back tight-assed to the flat for another bout with the diarrhee! Ha-ha.
Then we had the night from hell. I had the shits, it was even hotter in the flat. We couldn’t be in the same bed as they’re too small with this heat; it would have been like two sweating whales (or should I say one sweating whale and one svelte dolphin, but you get the picture). I was up in the cell for about an hour whimpering and moaning, really pouring it on to see if I could get April to respond; she finally relents and says “want to sleep down here on the couch?” Finally! So she heads up to the loft, last about 10 minutes, gets too hot and claustrophobic and hauls the futon down to main level. We fall asleep somewhere between 3-5:00AM. Some asshole starts playing music at 5:00AM. Seriously.
I wake up with all my bones aching. Perhaps I got the swine flu? We’re both aging years every sleepless night.
So we woke up and rushed to a hotel with AC just a block from the flat! Checked into a dark, quiet room with AC at 10:00 AM. Skills! Paul Flessner would have been proud of us. He’s the master of going crazy in the heat.
Finally we’re nice and cool. Let the recovery begin. Eth and Maddy were arriving on Monday and we convinced ourselves they need the space in the flat.
Start of another adventure
Ok, away we go. Off to France for a month. We have Alex and Emmanuelle’s wedding on Aug 7th. So we rented a small flat in Paris for the entire month. The plan is to spend a few days in Paris, Ethan and Maddy will join us for a few days, then April and I head over to Brittany to bicycle around for about 3 weeks. Eth and Maddy will stay at the flat for another week. Em/Chris will overlap with them and stay for another week. Em has wedding is Bulgaria to go to, then will return to Paris for the wedding. Eth will come back from London with POC and Mimi on the Eurostar (chunnel) for the wedding; rumor has it Mimi is bringing her Dad’s credit card again for some ragers in London town. And finally Chelsea will fly in right before the wedding as she is holding down the fort in Seattle, looking for a job, managing her busy social life, and to hear it from her she will be cleaning the house for weeks after Ethan’s departure.
With that intro…..
Our flat is in the St Germain area, district 6, it supposedly sleeps 4, it’s supposedly a quite street. No AC. Hmm.
Flight was mostly fine, I had Ambien while April stayed awake and listened to some kid behind us cry/fuss all night. I tried to eat light as I’ve gotten food poisoning on planes before, but April pounded the wine and with no sleep and inferior travel skills she ended up puking as we landed and taxied in. It was a 2-bag puke; impressive. I also got a ton of bug bites on the plane (and they play a role as you will see later). Waited way too long for a private shuttle at the airport. I was starting to get pissed but April reminded my of craving/aversions lessons from my meditation and I channeled my alter-ego PEM. Long time readers will recognize that persona from our last Europe trip with Dan and Jayne; it’s my calmer self. Anyway don’t use these van services to get from the airport to the city. Take a taxi or the train/metro. We had too much luggage for the train/metro (we had our bikes).
Got to the flat, some confusion about which specific apt it was, but April heard some people talking in one of them and knocked on the door, and sure enough it was the previous renters.
Like most things in life, the flat is a package deal. Some good, some bad. It’s tiny but efficient. Has internet and voip phone so it’s free to call the States. Kitchen/bathroom/shower are good. Location is superb. We can walk to all sorts of sites/cafes. The Louve is right across the Seine river.
But it’s really hot, no AC. And when you leave all the windows open it can get loud with the occasional truck/drunk/etc. And the beds are doubles, kind of crowded. And the second bed is in a tiny loft. You can touch the ceiling above you.
We had a late lunch at the Italian places just down the block. I had the fish which April thought smelled too fishy. April had an eggplant/pasta thing. Then we napped, woke up around dinner and wandered the neighborhood. It’s amazing. Packed with bakeries, movie theatres, shops, art galleries, cafes/restaurants,, ice cream shops, tea shops, even grocery stores. Everything is within a 5 minute walk. We found a Lebanese restaurant for dinner. Again April had a veggie meze type of plate while I went for a chicken shwarma. Yes this is a little foreshadowing.
Then we headed back to our cute little flat for our first romantic night in Paris!
And then the problems started.
First it was incredibly hot, even tho we had a fan blowing in air all night. And the beds were too small for 2 considering the heat. So I ended up in the loft, also known as the solitary confinement cell. Then the drunks and cars were super loud all night, tooting and yelling at 3:00AM. Plus my bug bites were itching like crazy because of the heat. I felt like Papillion down in British Guyana. So we woke up exhausted.
And the next day it got worse.
With that intro…..
Our flat is in the St Germain area, district 6, it supposedly sleeps 4, it’s supposedly a quite street. No AC. Hmm.
Flight was mostly fine, I had Ambien while April stayed awake and listened to some kid behind us cry/fuss all night. I tried to eat light as I’ve gotten food poisoning on planes before, but April pounded the wine and with no sleep and inferior travel skills she ended up puking as we landed and taxied in. It was a 2-bag puke; impressive. I also got a ton of bug bites on the plane (and they play a role as you will see later). Waited way too long for a private shuttle at the airport. I was starting to get pissed but April reminded my of craving/aversions lessons from my meditation and I channeled my alter-ego PEM. Long time readers will recognize that persona from our last Europe trip with Dan and Jayne; it’s my calmer self. Anyway don’t use these van services to get from the airport to the city. Take a taxi or the train/metro. We had too much luggage for the train/metro (we had our bikes).
Got to the flat, some confusion about which specific apt it was, but April heard some people talking in one of them and knocked on the door, and sure enough it was the previous renters.
Like most things in life, the flat is a package deal. Some good, some bad. It’s tiny but efficient. Has internet and voip phone so it’s free to call the States. Kitchen/bathroom/shower are good. Location is superb. We can walk to all sorts of sites/cafes. The Louve is right across the Seine river.
But it’s really hot, no AC. And when you leave all the windows open it can get loud with the occasional truck/drunk/etc. And the beds are doubles, kind of crowded. And the second bed is in a tiny loft. You can touch the ceiling above you.
We had a late lunch at the Italian places just down the block. I had the fish which April thought smelled too fishy. April had an eggplant/pasta thing. Then we napped, woke up around dinner and wandered the neighborhood. It’s amazing. Packed with bakeries, movie theatres, shops, art galleries, cafes/restaurants,, ice cream shops, tea shops, even grocery stores. Everything is within a 5 minute walk. We found a Lebanese restaurant for dinner. Again April had a veggie meze type of plate while I went for a chicken shwarma. Yes this is a little foreshadowing.
Then we headed back to our cute little flat for our first romantic night in Paris!
And then the problems started.
First it was incredibly hot, even tho we had a fan blowing in air all night. And the beds were too small for 2 considering the heat. So I ended up in the loft, also known as the solitary confinement cell. Then the drunks and cars were super loud all night, tooting and yelling at 3:00AM. Plus my bug bites were itching like crazy because of the heat. I felt like Papillion down in British Guyana. So we woke up exhausted.
And the next day it got worse.
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