<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961</id><updated>2011-07-29T00:59:42.092-07:00</updated><category term='freedom. retiral. Kettle. bike. ride. samaritans'/><category term='poem'/><title type='text'>Brian's Big Bike Ride</title><subtitle type='html'>On Sunday August 15th 2010, the day of my official retiral from teaching. I am setting out from Calais (la Manche) to cycle to Narbonne ( la  Méditerranée) to raise much meeded funds for the local branch of the Samaritans.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-4593370853836625486</id><published>2010-09-05T04:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T12:36:44.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Day - Gruissan Plage to Raissac d' Aude</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TI56qT-QPiI/AAAAAAAAChk/oWT4GeRwF_k/s1600/IMGP0974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TI56qT-QPiI/AAAAAAAAChk/oWT4GeRwF_k/s200/IMGP0974.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Monsieur le maire&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;The leisurely stuff went out of the window, when I slept in and woke up at 9.37! I hadn't slept past 8 before at any time on the road so I&amp;nbsp; hadn't bothered to set the alarm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn’t slept well with various thoughts bouncing around in my head. I had watched France play Belorusse at football&amp;nbsp;on tv which was boring enough to have sent half the population of France off to sleep. “I’m going to be late,” I thought as I hurriedly went through my morning routine. The chamois crème got its last outing just to "stick" to the routine.&lt;br /&gt;It was ironic that the only day there was a timetable I was going to be late! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIN5m-gE48I/AAAAAAAACdI/DaOZ4XLjOG8/s1600/IMGP0967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIN5m-gE48I/AAAAAAAACdI/DaOZ4XLjOG8/s200/IMGP0967.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The welcome offered to all visitors&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;By the time I had packed everything up for the last time and checked out of the hotel having thrown some breakfast down me It was 10.30 and I wasn’t sure if I could make it to Raissac for 12.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;David, a now permanent resident of Raissac,&amp;nbsp; had phoned me a couple of times earlier in the week to check on my progress and to try to&amp;nbsp; tie me down to an arrival time, so I knew that something was planned, but I had no idea that I would receive the welcome that awaited me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TI561wM1mjI/AAAAAAAAChs/11Ejsd79nQI/s1600/IMGP0971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TI561wM1mjI/AAAAAAAAChs/11Ejsd79nQI/s200/IMGP0971.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;However it was not be a leisurely final cycle,&amp;nbsp; for there was a headwind,&amp;nbsp; and I was really pushing the pace ( or so I thought until I was passed by another cyclist, who was at least my age, who sped off into the distance) I pushed on and reached the edge of the village with three minutes to spare, so I was able to relax and take a photo before riding in to a wonderful welcoming committee who all began to applaud, seemingly spontaneously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;I was stunned and found it hard to take it all in. There were three huge, very professional looking banners, which had been hung on the railings, "Bienvenue Welcome" , "brian's big bike ride arrivee", " Calais en velo Raissac"&amp;nbsp;and photos in front of the Mairie,&amp;nbsp; followed by a little drinks party in the garden of the mairie. Everyone was very welcoming and I felt like a minor celebrity and that I had reached home. It all flashed by and I wish that I could describe it better but it felt very good to receive such a welcome and to know that so many people had come to greet me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I would like to take this final opportunity to thank everyone for their support.&amp;nbsp;Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TI54-sz4GHI/AAAAAAAAChU/805-5H5R5AU/s1600/594_%40RAISSAC344662.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="158" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TI54-sz4GHI/AAAAAAAAChU/805-5H5R5AU/s200/594_%40RAISSAC344662.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following article appeared in the Midi Libre ( the local daily newspaper) on Thursday September 8th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Calais-Raissac en vélo&lt;/h2&gt;Brian Forrester, instituteur dans le canton de Fife près d'Edimbourg en Ecosse et son épouse Pauline, professeur de collège, ont eu le coup de foudre il y a quelques années pour le calme de notre petit village. Ils y font des séjours réguliers au moment des vacances scolaires et ils apprécient le soleil du midi. Jusque-là Brian pratiquait le cyclisme en dilettante, pour le plaisir. Mais récemment retraité, il avait décidé de parcourir Calais-Raissac en solitaire en vélo pour récolter des fonds pour l'association"Les Samaritains" en Ecosse. Animée par des bénévoles, cette association s'occupe des personnes dépressives de tout âge qui ont besoin d'un soutien psychologique et cela 24 heures sur 24. Brian a réalisé son rêve assez facilement puisqu'il n'a pas eu une seule crevaison sur son long &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="pubCarreEdit" id="pubCarreEdit"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;parcours de 1 500 km. Parti de Calais le 16 août, il s'était fixé comme objectif de parcourir environ 100 km par jour sur les routes secondaires. Il a fait étape à Berk-Plage, Amiens, Soissons, Cézanne, Troyes, Chatillon-sur-Seine, Dijon, Châlons-sur-Saône, Villefranche-sur-Saône, Lyon, Valence, Orange, Montpellier, Gruissan-Plage. Sur chacun de ces sites, il prenait du repos et des forces dans de petits hôtels et il s'est aussi accordé 4 jours de relâche dans son circuit afin de récupérer pleinement. C'est donc le 4 septembre qu'il est arrivé à Raissac tout sourire, heureux d'avoir réussi son pari et d'être accueilli par ses amis devant la mairie comme un vrai champion. Après ce périple mémorable, Brian rejoindra son Ecosse natale où l'attendent impatiemment son épouse Pauline encore en activité mais aussi sa petite fille Rudy. Aux prochaines vacances dans la rue du Tilleul !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't read French this is basically a nice summary of the whole of the blog. If you do read French - I lied!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-4593370853836625486?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/4593370853836625486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/09/final-day-gruissan-plage-to-raissac-d.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4593370853836625486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4593370853836625486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/09/final-day-gruissan-plage-to-raissac-d.html' title='Final Day - Gruissan Plage to Raissac d&apos; Aude'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TI56qT-QPiI/AAAAAAAAChk/oWT4GeRwF_k/s72-c/IMGP0974.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-6074658546852283712</id><published>2010-09-03T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T10:41:00.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 19 Montpellier to Narbonne (then on to Gruissan Plage)</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIEwtNoTlCI/AAAAAAAACcg/xDmnl6n8B1M/s1600/IMGP0952.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIEwtNoTlCI/AAAAAAAACcg/xDmnl6n8B1M/s200/IMGP0952.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;leaving Montpellier&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I have done it! I am writing this in the hotel "Accueil des Plages" in Gruissan having cycled through Narbonne to get here. With my many "detours" today may actually have been my first hundred miler. It certainly felt like it. The problem is that the coastline is bordered by many many miles of low lying boggy ground which often turns into shallow etangs. So on the map although Montpellier to Beziers is a straightforward fifty miles, the RN113 routes itself way north of a straight line, and it doesn't have a hard shoulder, so it makes for unpleasant cycling. Every time I tried to find an alternative route I got lost adding miles to the day. The alternative roads were mostly really small roads which don't have many signs so you need to constantly stop to check the map. Anyway enough moaning.&amp;nbsp; I am here. I am in one piece. Actually the legs are not too bad. I am feeling good and all is well with my little corner of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIEw6l1RVXI/AAAAAAAACco/YtoNwRuU-GM/s1600/IMGP0955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIEw6l1RVXI/AAAAAAAACco/YtoNwRuU-GM/s200/IMGP0955.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Florensac monument&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the afternoon progressed it got hotter and hotter, just what I had expected from the first. My water bottles which I had refilled in the park at Florensac at my lunch stop were getting emptgier and I was getting thirstier and hotter by the minute without any signs of cafe or shops. Finally when I was getting desperate I came to a Super U supermarket in Coursan where I attracted very strange looks with my beetroot face and sweat rolling down - I am sure you've got the picture. I got my 1.5 litre bottle of water and promptly drank most of it before I got out of the shop. Nearly back to square one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIExNnC2U6I/AAAAAAAACcw/sW_g7zY0IcA/s1600/IMGP0961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIExNnC2U6I/AAAAAAAACcw/sW_g7zY0IcA/s200/IMGP0961.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Thus refreshed I decided to change my plan to paddle with my bike in the Mediterranean tomorrow and to go do it this evening. So I sailed through Narbonne which was quite quiet traffic wise unusually, and on down to Gruissan where I accosted the poor unsuspecting girl behind the huge reception counter to take my picture. I had arrived and had the photo (but not the t shirt.) Armed with a list of hotels I set off to complete my two remaining tasks - a celebratory drink in the bar overlooking the beach, and to dip a wheel and some of me in the Mediterranean in ceremonial fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIExk5DUhvI/AAAAAAAACc4/qC81S4JzIEQ/s1600/IMGP0962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIExk5DUhvI/AAAAAAAACc4/qC81S4JzIEQ/s200/IMGP0962.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cheers!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;The first part was easy and the Pelforth Blonde tasted especially good after a hard day's ride. the second task was a bit harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIEx4Mgcp_I/AAAAAAAACdA/dAn4osReRFo/s1600/IMGP0965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIEx4Mgcp_I/AAAAAAAACdA/dAn4osReRFo/s320/IMGP0965.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The tide was out and it was really hard work pushing my thin tyred Dawes over the soft sand. As I got nearer the water I began to create quite a stir and people were staring but I didn't care I was on a mission. As I got to the water's edge I heard a cry of, " Don't do it. It won't float!" He would become my photographer. I hoped he would be&amp;nbsp; a better photographer than comedian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it is finished. I have done it. I am camped outside Rome ready to ride in tomorrow to receive my triumph and the keys to the city. (What an imagination.) But I am looking forward to seeing David and Steph (and any other Brits who are there) and Gisele and Andre and Didier and&amp;nbsp; Collette&amp;nbsp; and seeing how the vendange is progressing. I plan to arrive at 12.00 which gives me time to have a leisurely breakfast and a very leisurely cycle to Raissac. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does it feel? I have a sense of achievement and a quiet sense of satisfaction which I am sure will grow as I look back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-6074658546852283712?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/6074658546852283712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-19-montpellier-to-narbonne-then-on.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/6074658546852283712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/6074658546852283712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-19-montpellier-to-narbonne-then-on.html' title='Day 19 Montpellier to Narbonne (then on to Gruissan Plage)'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIEwtNoTlCI/AAAAAAAACcg/xDmnl6n8B1M/s72-c/IMGP0952.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-1125554347848684718</id><published>2010-09-02T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T09:44:39.241-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 18 Montpellier</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The intrepid tourist headed back in to central &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;Montpellier&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; &amp;nbsp;by tram for more sight seeing this morning after a leisurely breakfast and a read of the local paper. Today is back to school day across the whole of &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region w:st="on"&gt;France&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. Judging by the centre of &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Montpellier&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;, I am guessing that it was back to university day, or Freshers Week, as well. The centre of the town was moving with teenagers, all heading somewhere, seemingly aimlessly, and laughing a lot about it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;At first it was charming but after a bit I must confess to feeling a little, whispers it, old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIElm4JNNnI/AAAAAAAACZw/oiK0EvHwnTs/s1600/IMGP0941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIElm4JNNnI/AAAAAAAACZw/oiK0EvHwnTs/s200/IMGP0941.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-_p68DaWI/AAAAAAAACZo/pcyK6Zu8IKA/s1600/IMGP0946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-_p68DaWI/AAAAAAAACZo/pcyK6Zu8IKA/s200/IMGP0946.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Out with the introspection and on with the sight seeing. First it was the Peyrou with its &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename w:st="on"&gt;Royal&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype w:st="on"&gt;Plaza&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; dominated by Louis X14 on his horse. This is on the very edge of the old centre and is the highest point in &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Montpellier&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; which at 55m is not very high and doesn't provide much of a panoramic view.&amp;nbsp; Then I just had to go back to la place d’Europe. It was just as grand as yesterday but curiously empty. Then on to Sanctuaire Saint-Roch. Saint Roch is the patron saint of &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Montpellier&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. Then …my heart just wasn’t in the tourist stuff&amp;nbsp; today and I just wandered around aimlessly before perching myself on a park bench to watch the world go by and listen to my i pod.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe I just noticed it more but there were a lot of beggars on the streets and quite a lot of people sleeping rough in the parks. This was in stark contrast to the obvious wealth of the city and most of its citizens. I don’t think that I would like to live in a city. I can see the attractions but there are too many downsides and for me the French have a good expression “trop du monde” – literally too much of the world – too many people! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today feels strange. I am nearly there and I am glad that I am nearly there but I am sorry that it has to end. It is as if real life has been put on hold for a while which it has. I have enjoyed it immensely and I am about ready to stop but I am not sure that I want it to end just yet. It does feel a bit anti-climactic but hopefully that will be replaced with a feeling of satisfaction by Saturday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-1125554347848684718?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/1125554347848684718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-18-montpellier.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/1125554347848684718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/1125554347848684718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-18-montpellier.html' title='Day 18 Montpellier'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TIElm4JNNnI/AAAAAAAACZw/oiK0EvHwnTs/s72-c/IMGP0941.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-2444098065109952544</id><published>2010-09-01T10:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T08:05:32.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 17 Nimes to Montpellier</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-8FnmDfcI/AAAAAAAACZg/B1H7UiAVZ_8/s1600/IMGP0920-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-8FnmDfcI/AAAAAAAACZg/B1H7UiAVZ_8/s1600/IMGP0920-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;“It is only 60 kms, without much wind, today should be an easy day,” I thought as I set out. I always like this part of the day, when you are not yet warmed up, and still have a sense of the adventures to come; before the soporific effect of the constant pedaling and the i pod sets in. To be fair, the cycling was easy – flat, no wind to speak of, but the shameful state of the road surface, combined with the fact that there were no obvious alternative small roads to take,&amp;nbsp; left me in a constant battle with busy traffic and busy towns. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-6Wc22StI/AAAAAAAACZI/l7bel2gFQDE/s1600/IMGP0915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-6Wc22StI/AAAAAAAACZI/l7bel2gFQDE/s200/IMGP0915.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;la place d'europe&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I cleared &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Nimes&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; easily and set off on the N113 (which eventually passes near to Raissac d’ Aude) It could have been fine, but the “bande de securite” ( hard shoulder)&amp;nbsp; was in such bad condition that I had no alternative but to cycle on the road. The cars and lorries took it in turn to try to “persuade” me back on to the hard shoulder.&amp;nbsp; The worst offender was a little invalid car &lt;b&gt;which actually brushed my pannier&lt;/b&gt;. I gave him the universal sign of displeasure to which he took great offence. The second difficulty was that I had chosen a Premiere Classe hotel which was due west of &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;Montpelier&lt;/st1:city&gt; in St-Jean-de-Vedas and I was coming from due east of &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Montpellier&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. I certainly wasn’t about to go through the centre but there was no easy route around. To cut a long boring story short,&amp;nbsp; I eventually got to my hotel at about 2pm and by 3pm I was in the centre of &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Montpellier,&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; after a 25 minute trip on the tram. (and a shower and everything unpacked and the bike safely stowed away for two days)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-7NJ8pvfI/AAAAAAAACZY/CTHL5Kj5jxM/s1600/IMGP0917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-6ubVRoLI/AAAAAAAACZQ/2gTmkQjCeVk/s1600/IMGP0934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-6ubVRoLI/AAAAAAAACZQ/2gTmkQjCeVk/s200/IMGP0934.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Unlike travelling by train, you don’t see much from the tram because of the way it has been constructed after the city. When I stepped off the tram at the arbitrarily chosen “Place de Europe” I walked no further than 50 metre before I had one of those “wow” moments. La Place de Europe&amp;nbsp; was stunning and it was on a vast scale. I could have been in &lt;st1:state w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Texas&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; because everything seemed to be bigger and better than the next. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wandered about for a bit but it soon became clear that I would need some help so I went into the “Office de Tourisme” and picked up a map and directions to “le petit train touristique.” I am becoming quite the dedicated tourist. One thing which drives me mad and I can’t understand is: “ Why can’t they employ someone who actually speaks English to write the blurb….. “departure and return on the place of the Comedie, near the Tourisme office. Ask on the cashier to know the next departure.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-7NJ8pvfI/AAAAAAAACZY/CTHL5Kj5jxM/s1600/IMGP0917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-7NJ8pvfI/AAAAAAAACZY/CTHL5Kj5jxM/s200/IMGP0917.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The chamber of commerce!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Well I got on the next departure and went to all of the places which I can visit properly tomorrow,&amp;nbsp; now that I know where they are and how to get to them. &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Montpellier&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; was really buzzing. It seemed to be full of young people and the energy that they bring. Yes, there were tourists of course, but not too many English voices, in fact I can’t think when I last saw a British registration, Chatillon sur &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Seine&lt;/st1:place&gt; perhaps? The tourists were vastly outnumbered by the swathes of Montpellier residents all moving around at a Mediterranean pace or sitting in the thousands of cafes which abound in every conceivable place. If there is room to place a table and chair then it is so placed and another shoehorned in for good measure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-8FnmDfcI/AAAAAAAACZg/B1H7UiAVZ_8/s1600/IMGP0920-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="153" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-8FnmDfcI/AAAAAAAACZg/B1H7UiAVZ_8/s200/IMGP0920-1.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think I may start at “La Place Royale du Peyrou”&amp;nbsp; which is the highest point of Montpellier and which should afford me a view of the other places I would like to visit. I don’t think I’ll emulate the girls in the fountain but I may put a foot (or even two) in to cool down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-2444098065109952544?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/2444098065109952544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-17-nimes-to-montpellier.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/2444098065109952544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/2444098065109952544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-17-nimes-to-montpellier.html' title='Day 17 Nimes to Montpellier'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-6Wc22StI/AAAAAAAACZI/l7bel2gFQDE/s72-c/IMGP0915.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-811222975489494716</id><published>2010-08-31T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T07:41:52.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 16 Orange to Nimes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-2nSJ3q7I/AAAAAAAACY4/3P9kH4uWRU0/s1600/IMGP0901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-1G0rVsCI/AAAAAAAACYo/t1IkMbDMvvQ/s1600/IMGP0891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-1G0rVsCI/AAAAAAAACYo/t1IkMbDMvvQ/s200/IMGP0891.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Unfortunately C n d P was in the wrong direction&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I was awoken in the night by the sound of "le mistral" whistling through the trees outside my "premiere classe"room. I had forgotten that the layout of this hotel chain's rooms lend themselves particularly well to having a bike with you. The rooms all face outward and open straight onto the car park. The helpful receptionist (beats F1 already) had given me a ground floor room, which meant that I could simply wheel my trusty Dawes super Galaxy inside and unpack. She refused to believe that I had cycled from Calais but I eventually convinced her that I had. She also thought that Narbonne was still a long way away whereas I feel as if it is one really good day's cycling away. Since I last used this chain several years ago the rooms have undergone a face lift and had air conditioning units installed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-16Hvv4AI/AAAAAAAACYw/LsFJYptRSyo/s1600/IMGP0892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-16Hvv4AI/AAAAAAAACYw/LsFJYptRSyo/s200/IMGP0892.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;le mistral&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;When I got up I nearly asked if I could have the room for another night for "le mistral" was blowing @ 50km/h with gusts much stronger. You know that it is a &lt;b&gt;real &lt;/b&gt;wind when it has a name. It was blowing due south and my route to Nimes was due west or slightly south of that. Instead some instinct made me ask the receptionist if she could book me a room for the night in the centre of Nimes. At first the hotel was so busy the manager asked if she could call back in 10 minutes - not a good sign. I had another coffee and browsed through the local paper where I could see that "le mistral" was to turn into "le marin" an 180 degree turn for tomorrow - definitely not helpful. When she eventually got through I got the last available room which was confirmed as I was checking in at about 2pm when a family was turned away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had only taken me about 4 hours but two of those hours were&lt;b&gt; really scary&lt;/b&gt;. The wind was so strong from the side that I was constantly blown into the centre of the road where the lorries offered no concessions to the conditions at all. Presumably they weren't being blown around. The gusts were the worst and at times I felt totally out of control. The worst part was a long steep descent into&amp;nbsp; Pont du Gard when normally I would have been down on the drops getting up maximum speed. I had the brakes on all the way down terrified that I would be gusted into speeding traffic. It was a particularly open and exposed part of the road. This evening my forearms and&amp;nbsp; neck and shoulders are stiff with all of the holding on tight. However, just before the wind was quite this strong, and the terrain quite so exposed, in the lovely town of Roquemaure, where it was market day, I met a Danish couple of about my age who were on a tandem cycling from Toulouse along the Canal du Midi then heading north. We had a fine chat and they hoped that I would "enjoy the back wind" and I told them that the wind was to change direction in their favour tomorrow for which information they were grateful. I had anticipated that I would come across many more cycle tourists and many more cyclists in general. They had difficulty getting in to hotels in the South but hadn't had to resort to their back up tent. they admired the fact that I was traveling so light. I didn't offer to let them lift the bike to see how "light" it is. They were a nice couple and I wish them well. I wish I had had the presence of mind to have taken a photo but I have never subscribed to the view that if it wasn't photographed then it didn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-3PejTE0I/AAAAAAAACZA/rEPDizOHKnk/s1600/IMGP0898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-3PejTE0I/AAAAAAAACZA/rEPDizOHKnk/s200/IMGP0898.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I passed Tavel where "la vendange" (grape harvest) was taking place by hand - the traditional way. The signs by the road side suggested that Tavel rose was the king of roses. I dare say that Provence and Anjou to name but two might disagree. I didn't stop to be able to offer an opinion but the "vin de pays du gard" which I am drinking at the moment is quite acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hotel Premiere Classe is really quite nice and is as advertised in the centre of Nimes. I left my bike in a storeroom downstairs (I am on the third floor) and after a shower went off to explore the centre of Nimes. Helpfully a lot of the centre is narrow pedestrianised streets which radiate from "la place des Arenes" the Roman Arena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-3PejTE0I/AAAAAAAACZA/rEPDizOHKnk/s1600/IMGP0898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-2nSJ3q7I/AAAAAAAACY4/3P9kH4uWRU0/s1600/IMGP0901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-2nSJ3q7I/AAAAAAAACY4/3P9kH4uWRU0/s200/IMGP0901.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is stunning and incredibly well preserved but I just wasn't up for another tour of a fairly identical Roman Arena. Instead I ambled around the narrow streets watching what seemed to be mostly locals shopping and prancing in the squares. Cameras and glances at the buildings were scarcely in evidence. I waited in vain for about 15 minutes to ask a tourist to take my picture in front of l'Arene. However there must be lots of tourist because the hotel was full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I will head for Montpellier and depending on what I find&amp;nbsp; in terms of hotels and weather and tourist friendliness, I may stay for two days, or head for a day in Sete, a town that holds&amp;nbsp; very mixed memories and which I would like to revisit.&lt;br /&gt;The trip so far &amp;nbsp; has been great and I am almost sorry that it is drawing to a close but also scared to anticipate the finishing line, too soon,&amp;nbsp; which is still about 200 kms away. At the height of its strength today I doubt if I could have cycled more than 50 km against the wind in the whole of the day. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;I thought about school today for the first time.The song "Animal" from the album of the same name by Ke$ha came through my i pod's headphones and I couldn't help but think of KT and Dana dancing to that track in "Kettle's got Talent." They were robbed! I hope they are doing better in their new and more important competition - secondary school.&amp;nbsp; I hope that "the box" hasn't arrived yet but that it arrives reasonably soon so that you can all get this monkey off your backs.&lt;br /&gt;I am having difficulty uploading pictures to blogger. I am not sure what the problem is but i will add pictures just as soon as they are accepted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-811222975489494716?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/811222975489494716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-16-orange-to-nimes.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/811222975489494716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/811222975489494716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-16-orange-to-nimes.html' title='Day 16 Orange to Nimes'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH-1G0rVsCI/AAAAAAAACYo/t1IkMbDMvvQ/s72-c/IMGP0891.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-4428862115342483877</id><published>2010-08-30T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:59:01.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 15 Valence to Orange</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1cDAV_NZI/AAAAAAAACXA/mb0DnkHwS4E/s1600/IMGP0862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1cDAV_NZI/AAAAAAAACXA/mb0DnkHwS4E/s200/IMGP0862.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;good to be remembered&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Today was potentially an easy day - flat, wind behind, sunny but not too hot and so it turned out. I reached Montelimar in two hours or so. I had planned to stop there for a coffee but ever cafe was empty. The Route Nationale 7 skirts by most of the villages and towns along its path so I wasn't seeing much although I was making really fast progress with a huge wind behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However even Roman roads don't go exactly straight and whenever the wind was from the side, I found it really difficult to maintain a straight course. I decided to cross the Rhone and try the roads on the Ardeche side. The road was definitely quieter but the surface was in much poorer condition so i was happy to return to the RN 7 at Pierrelatte where I stopped for a boulangerie lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1c8wS19wI/AAAAAAAACXI/lx87YmtJvvk/s1600/IMGP0868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1c8wS19wI/AAAAAAAACXI/lx87YmtJvvk/s200/IMGP0868.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sandwich de cruditees and an enormous vanilla slice washed down with water from my water bottle. Not my best lunch so far but very enjoyable sitting in the sunshine. I was struck again by how quiet it was. Is any part of France thriving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1dZGOg4oI/AAAAAAAACXQ/qbhzg5WPlY0/s1600/IMGP0874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1dZGOg4oI/AAAAAAAACXQ/qbhzg5WPlY0/s200/IMGP0874.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Onward again towards Orange which was reached uneventfully by 2.30. As I approached Orange I could see the original Arc de Triomphe which is quite spectacular. Orange looked interesting so I quickly checked into a first class hotel (hotel premiere classe) which is decidedly second class but within walking distance of the centre and with wi fi which works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I headed for the tourist information kiosk which I had passed on the way in to pick up a map and some ideas. The girl behind the counter insisted on speaking English to me and after I had commended her on her excellent English she told me that she came from Inverness. She pointed me towards the "Theatre Ancienne"  correctly assuming that that would be where I would want to start my exploration of Orange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1eAeaWCdI/AAAAAAAACXY/-R0g00BxSTA/s1600/IMGP0875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1eAeaWCdI/AAAAAAAACXY/-R0g00BxSTA/s200/IMGP0875.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have seen quite a few Roman ruins and Greek temples and Cathedrals counted on several hands but this was something special. I could tell as soon as I went in that this was a place to be fully explored and experienced to the full. The commentary on the "brick" which could tell you about the theatre in several languages was in English as opposed to translated French. It was really interesting and I was reluctant to give it back at the end. It was worth every centime of the €8 entrance fee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1ef4J5ElI/AAAAAAAACXg/cB7vNnGfm4Q/s1600/IMGP0877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1ef4J5ElI/AAAAAAAACXg/cB7vNnGfm4Q/s200/IMGP0877.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;impressive theatre ancienne a Orange&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;One thing that struck me today was how little of the countryside was under vines and how much of the Rhone valley was given over to heavy industry - chemical works and big belching chimneys as opposed to my idyllic picture of the Cote du Rhone vineyards. I am only 30 kms from Avignon. I am tempted to go dance on the bridge.(sur le pont d'Avignon on y danse)&amp;nbsp; Perhaps another time. Tomorrow I will turn SW towards Nimes. Let's hope that the Mistral has blown itself out today! (joke!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-4428862115342483877?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/4428862115342483877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-15-valence-to-orange.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4428862115342483877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4428862115342483877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-15-valence-to-orange.html' title='Day 15 Valence to Orange'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1cDAV_NZI/AAAAAAAACXA/mb0DnkHwS4E/s72-c/IMGP0862.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-6739628443245342136</id><published>2010-08-30T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:44:49.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 14 Valence</title><content type='html'>Day 14 Valence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe that I have been on the road for two weeks. The further south I go the greater the mix of accents and different countries of origin and the fewer Brits there are. I counted only one British registration in the car park last evening amongst several German, Spanish, Italian and of course lots of French. Although I am in Valence Nord which if it was Ryan Air could be Vienne or even Lyon it is quite conveniently placed 4 or 5 kms out, next to a huge retail park with its handy supermarket, and more or less right on the banks of the Rhone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1Z-fhSyRI/AAAAAAAACWg/5s5BJgFDWxQ/s1600/IMGP0841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1Z-fhSyRI/AAAAAAAACWg/5s5BJgFDWxQ/s200/IMGP0841.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;view from the cycle route on the banks of the rhone&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Although as I have said already France is bike friendly there is a curious lack of signs around here. I stumbled upon a beautifully made "Voie verte" alongside the Rhone which goes all the way into Valence then stops suddenly alongside a factory with no signs or obvious way of reaching a road. A work in progress perhaps. Central Valence is pedestrianised which seems to be the same as bike and pedestrians only. I spent the morning cycling around the centre seeing the sights and marvelling at the slow pace of everyone  and everything I came accross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valence was founded apparently by persecuted Armenians and seems to be populated to this day by a huge proportion of people of not obviously French origin. ( I am not sure if that is sufficiently politically correct) In my head I had a picture of Roman ruins and what I found was a little disappointing. The Cathedral of St Appolinaire was of course interesting as was the Armenian Heritage Centre. The "Penditif" one of the first m&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1ag4wot9I/AAAAAAAACWw/6V2Ua46DR48/s1600/IMGP0847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1ag4wot9I/AAAAAAAACWw/6V2Ua46DR48/s200/IMGP0847.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;onuments listed in France was so memorable that I didn't even take a photo.La maison des tetes "which marked the crossing from the high Gothic style to the Renaissance" - who could fail to be impressed?&lt;br /&gt;Everything seems to be shut. Notices saying that the owners are on holiday until September abound. How much further south do I need to go go to find France open?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something curious. LeClerc hypermarche's huge parking area full of cars on Sunday at lunchtime when the supermarket is shut. I go to investigate. The restaurant attached to the supermarket is doing a roaring trade in Sunday lunches. I ask for my first choice, moules marinieres. "Sorry sir. We are sold out." I got to my fourth choice before there was anything with any left. However I ate superbly with a 1/4l of a nice red wine for €7. The vegetables (including the chips) were "a volonte" (as much as you like) I think I might have cracked eating cheaply in France at last. Now I can understand why you would drive 4km out of town to go shopping. I can understand why you might stop to eat while you are there ( a bit more difficult but it is France) but I have a lot of difficulty with, " How do you fancy going for a nice Sunday lunch at LeClerc? If it's sunny we could sit outside and look at the factories." The French are our nearest neighbours. I love them but they are not like us.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1bZpBk9TI/AAAAAAAACW4/EMnT0eI-XSw/s1600/IMGP0848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1bZpBk9TI/AAAAAAAACW4/EMnT0eI-XSw/s200/IMGP0848.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;would you have time to do that to your house?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;La meteo predicts a really strong wind blowing from north to south tomorrow. I hope it is right and I might reach Orange by lunch time ( joke - it's 70 miles at least) If it blows the other way then I might be orange by lunch time! As I approach the third week I feel a mixture of excitement, as I can see the finishing line, but of regret, that my adventure is drawing to a close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However I continue to be heartened and encouraged by your generous donations and messages of support.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-6739628443245342136?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/6739628443245342136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-14-valence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/6739628443245342136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/6739628443245342136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-14-valence.html' title='Day 14 Valence'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1Z-fhSyRI/AAAAAAAACWg/5s5BJgFDWxQ/s72-c/IMGP0841.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-7706341606195126894</id><published>2010-08-30T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:34:58.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 13 Lyon to Valence</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;If I had realised that it was day 13 I might have been more careful! The day began like many others. Up at 7 washed, shaved, creamed( anti-insect, sun, bum ), dressed, packed&amp;nbsp; - a good breakfast and warmly wished on my way by Sebastien by 8.30. By 10.00 I was still in the centre of Lyon getting more and more frusrtated by my inability to find the road out. Eventually I decided to get radical (the soft option asking for directions was again worse than useless) - ignore the map, the signs, and my directions and to follow my nose and the Rhone.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1YAoSWzjI/AAAAAAAACWI/NoY6hx8kaNw/s1600/IMGP0823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1YAoSWzjI/AAAAAAAACWI/NoY6hx8kaNw/s200/IMGP0823.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;D4 alongside the A7&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;This led me on a slightly circuitous route but before long I was sailing along&amp;nbsp; heading back towards&amp;nbsp; the planned route. An hour lost but nothing too serious. There is no timetable to keep to. Enjoy each and every part of every day. By Chasse-sur-Rhone I was back on the left bank of the Rhone and back on route. There is not too much actual choice of route because the Rhone, the A7 autoroute, the TGV line and the little road that I was on (D4) were all squeezing through a relatively small valley with steep sided slopes on either side to which clung precariously little clumps of vines.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Just as I was congratulating myself on having navigated back on track and making good speed - disaster! Disaster of Friday 13th proportions. I blinked and found myself on the A7 autoroute cycling on the hard shoulder alongside three solid lanes of traffic speeding South. What could I do? The sign said 8km to Vienne. Perhaps I could make it to the next exit? I kept pedalling like mad hoping to make it before ...... my worst fear was realised. The hard shoulder stoped and turned into a tiny piece of tarmac a foot wide between the white line of lane 1 and the wall that separated the autoroute from the Rhone. I had just got past this terrifying part and back on to the relative security of the hard shoulder when&amp;nbsp; I heard the sound of an emergency vehicle behind me and I stopped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt; I have never been so grateful to see a man in reflective clothing in my life. Considering what he must have been thinking of this mad old twit cycling on the busiest motorway in France on a "jour rouge" he was very calm and accepted my pleas of ignorance and regret with equanimity. He explained that he would need to take me off the motorway in his van. We loaded my bike into the back and me into the front and he calmly took me the four miles or so to the 1st exit. He went out of his way to explain the best way through Vienne and dropped me at the roundabout leading in to Vienne.On his radio I could hear his controller ask, "Have you got that mad cyclist?" "Oui!" After that little adventure the rest of the ride to Valence was uneventful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1YZOU9wlI/AAAAAAAACWQ/hEsKlCKMjDU/s1600/IMGP0831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1YZOU9wlI/AAAAAAAACWQ/hEsKlCKMjDU/s200/IMGP0831.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1ZJO2gkPI/AAAAAAAACWY/nnXxQeHLimI/s1600/IMGP0833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1ZJO2gkPI/AAAAAAAACWY/nnXxQeHLimI/s200/IMGP0833.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cotes du Rhone&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt; My route followed the Rhone faithfully bend for bed and was pleasingly flat.It had been a fairly easy 70 miler and despite my little mishaps I was at my F1 hotel by 3pm. I still had energy enough to cycle into Valence centre (8km) for a look around and to visit the tourist information which may be closed tomorrow (Sunday)&amp;nbsp; It may have been me but for a Saturday afternoon it didn't seem very busy. I was struck, though, by the ready availability of&amp;nbsp; public transport and the bike frienliness of French big towns and cities. Back at the F1 hotel which was busy it was a by now familiar tale, "Wi fi gratuit" is not much use when you can't connect. But Canal+ was a definite plus for I enjoyed South Africa against Australia and the Johnny Walker golf. I am looking forward to a nice lie in tomorrow until maybe 8am! I haven't finalised my plans yet but I am thinking in terms of: Sunday Valence, Monday Orange Tuesday Orange Wednesday Montpellier Thursday Montpellier Friday Narbonne - swim in Med Saturday arrive in Raissac d'Aude. These plans are weather/ hotel availability / continued leg strength dependent.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-7706341606195126894?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/7706341606195126894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-13-lyon-to-valence.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/7706341606195126894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/7706341606195126894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-13-lyon-to-valence.html' title='Day 13 Lyon to Valence'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1YAoSWzjI/AAAAAAAACWI/NoY6hx8kaNw/s72-c/IMGP0823.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-2726657564184542312</id><published>2010-08-27T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T12:27:25.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 12 Lyon Centre</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1R45EsFoI/AAAAAAAACVk/tiSlCvLxF2A/s1600/IMGP0797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1R45EsFoI/AAAAAAAACVk/tiSlCvLxF2A/s200/IMGP0797.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Famous citizens of Lyon&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Today was to&amp;nbsp; be a rest day but I have discovered that my brilliant Shimano sandals are really good to walk in for I have walked many kilometres. After the morning rain it turned into a beautiful day despite "la meteo" which said that it was to be "thundery showers" ( I translate) I set off to take the tourist bus around the city "hop on and off as often as you like" however the next bus is 90 minutes behind. How often would you hop off? It was great. I would never have discovered this much in a month of random cycling. Headphones provided and choose from six languages. At one point I wondered if I had stumbled into Italy by mistake for I was surrounded by "va bene"&lt;br /&gt;What have I learned about Lyon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1WyB75faI/AAAAAAAACV4/BEpAJLpfmaw/s1600/IMGP0813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1WyB75faI/AAAAAAAACV4/BEpAJLpfmaw/s200/IMGP0813.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cathedrale de St Jean&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;It has a surprisingly small population of around half a million people in the city itself but many many more in the outskirts. It was an important Roman city which was the capital of Gaul. It suffered badly during the revolution. It sits on both the Saone and Rhone which flow together to become the only slightly augmented Rhone. Its reputation for its cuisine comes from "les meres" the ladies who were cooks to the wealthy Lyonnais then started restaurants at the start of the 20th century. I like the place a lot and intend to return sometime soon for a more extended visit. If you wish to check my facts or read further then &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyon"&gt;click here&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tourist cruise on the Saone wasn't up to the same standard and I understood exactly the same amount of commentary in French as I did in English. Pity the poor Italians who were left looking at the wrong side of the boat. As Sebastien said on my return " 0 - 0 "&lt;br /&gt;I have had a great time in Lyon. I will definitely return. I am rested - the legs are ready for the next stage and&amp;nbsp; I look forward to seeing the sights of the valley of the Rhone that I have previously flown past on "l'autoroute du soleil"&lt;br /&gt;The plan such as it is: Lyon to Valence (110 kms ish)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1XUqEAjII/AAAAAAAACWA/B8DIU-10-2M/s1600/IMGP0821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1XUqEAjII/AAAAAAAACWA/B8DIU-10-2M/s200/IMGP0821.JPG" width="179" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Brasserie Georges&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Valence to Orange (110 kms ish)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orange to Montpellier (110 kms ish)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Montpellier to Beziers ou Narbonne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have got a full week to get there. My inclination at the moment is to stay 2 days at each stop and have only a short hop at the end. However plan b is to get to Montpellier as soon as possible and spend some time there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"On vira" -&amp;nbsp; we'll see!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-2726657564184542312?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/2726657564184542312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-12-lyon-centre.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/2726657564184542312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/2726657564184542312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-12-lyon-centre.html' title='Day 12 Lyon Centre'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TH1R45EsFoI/AAAAAAAACVk/tiSlCvLxF2A/s72-c/IMGP0797.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-5848576639969472597</id><published>2010-08-27T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T02:44:58.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 11 Villefranche to Lyons</title><content type='html'>I was excited and just a little bit apprehensive when I set off to cycle into the centre of Lyon, France's second biggest (busiest) city.I hadn't been going for long enough to warm up my legs when the lorries started to s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeHxWbqr3I/AAAAAAAACQM/i0pW8k8cuFk/s1600/IMGP0756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeHxWbqr3I/AAAAAAAACQM/i0pW8k8cuFk/s200/IMGP0756.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;woop by closer and closer as if to say "what are you doing here on a bike?" However after a few scary kilometres the road turned into a series of satellite towns with their town centres and traffic lights. Before long I was freewheeling down an exhilaratingly steep slope to the edge of what I thought was the river Rhone but which turned out to be the Saone. Later I discovered that the two rivers on which Lyon stands proudly rhyme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very soon I was on to cycle lanes and as the traffic got busier so did the width of what was now a bus and cycle lane. At one point I had half of the width of the road to myself with no buses in sight.I continued to marvel at the sights and sounds of this great city and I had time and space to look around as I made my way into the centre. when I stopped to ask the way to the 2nd arrondisement ( I had booked the Victoria hotel on the internet the night before) "This is the 2nd arrondisement" he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeIFHGnD7I/AAAAAAAACQU/D_lbRX-t1Ys/s1600/IMGP0767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeIFHGnD7I/AAAAAAAACQU/D_lbRX-t1Ys/s200/IMGP0767.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;View over the city to Mont Blanc in the distance &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within a few minutes I had found the "office du tourisme" where I was given a plan of the city with my hotel marked. It was just as well because I found the two rivers which are equally wide and to my new eye indistinguishable difficult to use as markers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeG1eCfwxI/AAAAAAAACP0/VbSqETAnvng/s1600/IMG_0390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeG1eCfwxI/AAAAAAAACP0/VbSqETAnvng/s200/IMG_0390.jpg" width="113" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hotel Victoria&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived at the door of the Hotel Victoria about 10.30 to be warmly greeted by Sebastien. My room wasn't ready but it could be in an hour (check in was supposed to be 3p.m.) I was offered a place to leave my bike when I said that I wanted to go into the city centre to explore. Instead I left my panniers and cycled into the centre which was not far away and bike friendly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeHZkdJpwI/AAAAAAAACQE/CFqiJyeyF1s/s1600/IMG_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="136" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeHZkdJpwI/AAAAAAAACQE/CFqiJyeyF1s/s200/IMG_0008.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourviere&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&amp;nbsp;I decided to just ride about to get a feel for it all but it was just too big. I could see a landmark high on the hill (Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourviere) on the other side of the Saone so I cycled over "pont Bonaparte" into old Lyon. Quite by chance I had happened upon a concentration of the sights of Lyon. I parked my bike by the "Cathedrale St-Jean" and spent some time meandering through the narrow streets of "Vieux Lyon" It was good to have a while to sit down so I did, on the steps of the cathedral to listen to an impromptu concert for classical guitar and violin (you get a better class of busking in France)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeHEiRwElI/AAAAAAAACP8/SBzGLL8HZyQ/s1600/IMG_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="136" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeHEiRwElI/AAAAAAAACP8/SBzGLL8HZyQ/s200/IMG_0002.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My budget room&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I returned to the hotel to be met by Laura. Her ready smile and welcoming attitude added to that of Sebastien from before suggested that I had chosen my value hotel well. On reaching my freshly renovated fifth floor room via the lift I promptly fell asleep on the exceptionally large and comfortable bed which dominated the pleasingly decorated&amp;nbsp; room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeHxWbqr3I/AAAAAAAACQM/i0pW8k8cuFk/s1600/IMGP0756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeCTfN1LFI/AAAAAAAACPs/6GkdhBgZ-qs/s1600/IMGP0784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeCTfN1LFI/AAAAAAAACPs/6GkdhBgZ-qs/s200/IMGP0784.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pauline 2011?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;My rest day hadn't been too restful. I was knackered. However a siesta and a shower later and I was ready for some more exploring.I ended up in "la Place Carnot" All of life was there from children supervised by eager parents in the cordonned off play park area, to down and outs sleeping off the afternoon in the shade to busy people busying there way to wherever busy people go all surrounded by cafes and brasseries filled with "les Lyonnais" chatting in the evening sunshine. I decided that I deserved "un Ricard" to sip as I watched the world go by. There were some strange sights none more so than the lady dressed in her finery who was getting off a scooter to meet friends for dinner. I really had chosen well for just round the corner was a series of "chain hotels" all charging double or more.&amp;nbsp; I was right across from "la Brasserie Georges" which is a Lyon institution. As I passed by on my way to eat more modestly in a Pizzeria recommended by Laura I could see literally hundreds of diners being waited upon by waiters all wearing long aprons. Pauline and I will return one day soon to share this experience I hope.&lt;br /&gt;The Pizzeria was excellent and when I mentioned my trip "le Patron" announced to the other diners that the gentleman over there is cycling from Calais to Narbonne. Spontaneous applause and cries of "Bravo" etc ensued. I was quite embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing this sitting on my fifth floor balcony and the morning rain is transforming itself into watery sunshine. More exploring beckons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-5848576639969472597?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/5848576639969472597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-11-villefranche-to-lyons.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/5848576639969472597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/5848576639969472597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-11-villefranche-to-lyons.html' title='Day 11 Villefranche to Lyons'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THeHxWbqr3I/AAAAAAAACQM/i0pW8k8cuFk/s72-c/IMGP0756.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-1334049799845970879</id><published>2010-08-25T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T11:15:28.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 9 Dijon to Chalon sur Saone ( la Genete near Tournus)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Having enjoyed a “bonsai petit dejeuner” I set off bright eyed and bushy tailed in the rain again. The busy lanes of Conforama and laPeyre&amp;nbsp; soon gave way to the Grand Crus Route which wound its way from wine village to wine village. The wine villages were all very pretty but nowhere is attractive in the rain so I put my head down and made some kilometres.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVYRS9QYiI/AAAAAAAACPU/Mi667uRYWcY/s1600/IMGP0716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVYRS9QYiI/AAAAAAAACPU/Mi667uRYWcY/s200/IMGP0716.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nuits Saint Georges came along at about coffee time but it was hissing down so I carried on for a bit. The great names of burgundy wines are all produced on a fairly slender hillside crammed in between the railway line and the motorway and the hills on a strip of land about 1 km wide. When I eventually stopped as the rain did I was chatting to two vignerons about the coming vendange ( quinze jours) they queried my order of a coffee saying that ik would be better with a white wine like them (this is 11.00 am) When I said that I didn’t want to be drunk in charge of a bike they said that the bike would ride itself. I was tempted&amp;nbsp; but stuck to coffee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVdGsA1ZxI/AAAAAAAACPk/nHu_K4QWiVM/s1600/IMGP0725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVdGsA1ZxI/AAAAAAAACPk/nHu_K4QWiVM/s200/IMGP0725.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;lunch stop - to eat my quiche and chocolate eclaire&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;As the rain eased the burgundy hillside eased into the flat wooded land leading to Chalon sur &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Saone&lt;/st1:place&gt;. I realised from the map that it was a big city but I was not ready for just how busy and frenetic it turned out out be. I quickly gave up on my plan to stay in the centre and headed for the edge of town. The sign for the F1 hotel heading into an impenetrable retail park did not seem inviting so I decided to keep on heading south and see what would transpire. It has turned out to bed a bad mistake because I have ended up in a second rate hotel where I have been systematically “fleeced”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“It’s all part of life’s rich tapestry,”and it is but to be avoided if possible and it was possible. The trouble with being Scots is we are born mean. The nice lady at the “office du tourisme” told me what the going rate was but I wouldn’t accept it. I ended up paying it for somewhere very inferior. I will try to learn to be less mean but it is well ingrained. Meanwhile in the unlikely event that you are tempted to stay at “la petite auberge” in la Genete – don’t! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have decided to “go with the flow” a bit more this week. The current plan is to ditch the plan and go into the centre of &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;Lyon&lt;/st1:city&gt;, &lt;st1:country-region w:st="on"&gt;Frances&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;’s second city, for a couple of days assuming I can find a hotel where Sybil Fawlty is n’t in charge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVcwQJNrGI/AAAAAAAACPc/F2Zn7tQ7Zak/s1600/IMGP0720.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVcwQJNrGI/AAAAAAAACPc/F2Zn7tQ7Zak/s200/IMGP0720.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Should I stick to the smaller roads?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now that I know that I can make it I can spend more time enjoying the sights and exploring a bit off the beaten track rather than just focussing on getting to the next planned stop over.(maybe but it will be against my nature entirely)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-1334049799845970879?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/1334049799845970879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-9-dijon-to-chalon-sur-saone-la.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/1334049799845970879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/1334049799845970879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-9-dijon-to-chalon-sur-saone-la.html' title='Day 9 Dijon to Chalon sur Saone ( la Genete near Tournus)'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVYRS9QYiI/AAAAAAAACPU/Mi667uRYWcY/s72-c/IMGP0716.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-1560285435514993881</id><published>2010-08-25T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T11:27:09.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 10 Chalon sur Saone to Villefranche sur Saone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVUulLzs_I/AAAAAAAACOk/AUn5VXThAYE/s1600/IMGP0741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVUulLzs_I/AAAAAAAACOk/AUn5VXThAYE/s200/IMGP0741.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All this "sur Saone" stuff you would think that I would catch a glimpse of the Saone but as far as I am aware I saw it once when I crossed it in incredibly busy Chalon s S and again just before I crossed it into incredibly busy Villefranche s S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Today began badly and ended well with mostly good bits in between. Having not slept very well for the noise of whatever was running around making scraping sounds in the attic above my bed I was looking forward to a good breakfast for my €6. I couldn't believe it when I was presented with a pot of coffee with hot milk and two pieces of toast with two butters and two jams. As I rode away into the morning sunshine I was determined to put it down to experience and not let it cast a cloud over an otherwise cloudless morning. However it was chilly and I soon had my waterproof jacket on to stay warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVU8WqLsCI/AAAAAAAACOs/ZawHJNBOBFA/s1600/IMGP0728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVU8WqLsCI/AAAAAAAACOs/ZawHJNBOBFA/s200/IMGP0728.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The countryside could have been Fife if the cattle hadn't all been horned and white. It reminded me of Balbirnie without the golf course and the posh hotel. As the morning wore on the countryside began to change from leafy and green to a bit more hilly and burned up and France in summer like. I was riding parallel to the motorway and route national and railway line which are all fairly close together following the valley of the Saone on a quieter but still lorry filled D933. I passed more cyclists today than on the whole of the rest of the trip including a female tourist who later sat at the table behind me at lunch. The etiquette appears to be to acknowledge other cyclists en route as subtly as possible - a little nod or a "bonjour" swallowed as it is uttered or the merest hint of a wave.&amp;nbsp; I was dying to turn round and ask her where she had been and where she was going and to share stories: however I decided that since she had parked next to my bike and since she could see that I was dressed as a cyclist if she wanted to swap stories she would speak to me. It didn't happen. She was a vegetarian so we wouldn't have had much in common to share anyway. I didn't really want to speak to her anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVVKDXgGqI/AAAAAAAACO0/GVSP5BDEX2Q/s1600/IMGP0737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVVKDXgGqI/AAAAAAAACO0/GVSP5BDEX2Q/s200/IMGP0737.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You can guess why I stopped here ( apart from it being 12.00) It was a good omen.&amp;nbsp; The meal was as good as last night's was bad. The blackboard said (in French obviously) choice of two starters two main course wine included €12 it didn't sound bad. The tables were all laid out neatly and locals were already eating at 12.05. The menu was on the blackboard. Quiche salad or terrine forestiere followed by roti de porc or steak de foie persille.The extended family at the next table made me think of the family that I am missing at home&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVVmGk29yI/AAAAAAAACO8/wXlpcPVx2N8/s1600/IMGP0738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVVmGk29yI/AAAAAAAACO8/wXlpcPVx2N8/s200/IMGP0738.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. But you will all still be there when I get home "In Sha'allah". So after a really nice rose with my terrine and beautifully dressed salad I tucked into my parsley garnished liver steak which oozed blood but was as tender as can be served with creamed mash. Not my favourite but I watched the workers at the next table and decided that they would know what was goodso I tucked in.Delicious. not bad for €12 I thought then the cheese course came. A plate of five or six cheeses help yourself and all the bread you could want. Then dessert and yes "mousse au chocolat" was one of the choices but so were home made "tartes aux pommes" and then coffee. Incredible value and excellent simple food. Just what you hope for every time you stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would I be able to pedal after such a meal? Yes after a few kms I was back in my familiar if somewhat pedantic groove. Villefranche s S&amp;nbsp; came at about 3pm but it was so busy that I couldn't conceive of staying the night and I didn't have the heart for heading back the way I had come on the opposite bank to find the F1 type hotels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVWKuFXspI/AAAAAAAACPE/YuJ_gmaWgj8/s1600/IMGP0746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVWKuFXspI/AAAAAAAACPE/YuJ_gmaWgj8/s200/IMGP0746.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I stopped for a rest in one of the few central shaded areas and made a fundamental mistake - one that i haven't made since I began - I only unclipped one foot! I stopped at a bench and rested my unclipped foot on the bench still sitting on my remarkably comfortable Brooks saddle. after a short rest I decided to push off but my panniers caught on the bench and I didn't go and I couldn't put down my still clipped in right foot. It all happened in slow motion and I slowly toppled over onto my right knee/ankle/gears/brake lever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remarkably most of the above are fine. My knee is grazed but in full working condition showing no signs of swelling or seizing up as I write this. The bike seems to be fine - the gears are a bit noisier but nothing that a good clean won't fix. The handlebar tape is torn and the panniers scratched and dirty but I was very lucky. One moment's lack of thought could have brought this all to a premature conclusion. But it didn't and my reward is a nice Logis between Villefranche and Lyon in Beaujolais territory with air conditioning, a pool and a lovely terrace for tonight's meal for €5 more than last evening's disaster. I'll get back to F1's but it is nice to be up the ladder a couple of rungs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have begun to slip into a comfortable habit. Rise at 7am. Breakfast at 8am having washed and shaved. King of shaves is fantastic stuff. Two drops in the hand is all it takes to make your skin so oily it is virtually impossible to cut yourself. Gillette is heaved when I get home! On the road for 8.30 and spin gently at first until the legs warm up. Coffee stop is between 10.30 and 11.00 depending on terrain and availability. Lunch is between 12.00 and 1pm depending on whether it is to be sit down or boulangerie. On arrival at the hotel I wash out the top and shorts I have been wearing plus one other item and hang them to dry usually at the window. The various pieces of electronic equipment have to take their turn to be charged using my one 2pin adapter. first I transfer the day's photos and then I write my blog transferring it all to the net if wi fi is available and working. Dinner is at 8pm and I allow myself a carafe of wine, when I specify 50cls I get looks suggesting I need to contact AA. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been sunny from morning till now. It has been a good day and I am in excellent fettle all around. it is still my intention to brave the centre of Lyon for a couple of days r and r before setting off down the Rhone Valley to ....... I am not entirely sure - eventually Raissac but maybe a few days in Montpellier?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-1560285435514993881?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/1560285435514993881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-10-chalon-sur-saone-to-villefranche.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/1560285435514993881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/1560285435514993881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-10-chalon-sur-saone-to-villefranche.html' title='Day 10 Chalon sur Saone to Villefranche sur Saone'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THVUulLzs_I/AAAAAAAACOk/AUn5VXThAYE/s72-c/IMGP0741.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-3011264002007402774</id><published>2010-08-23T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T11:59:56.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 Chatillon to Dijon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLEE0npdnI/AAAAAAAACLM/BreWoDhKBn0/s1600/IMGP0709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLDkeK0vTI/AAAAAAAACK8/yTTnD8-V8Kw/s1600/IMGP0702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLDkeK0vTI/AAAAAAAACK8/yTTnD8-V8Kw/s200/IMGP0702.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLDaJgXTVI/AAAAAAAACK0/fH4j5u-e4K8/s1600/IMGP0701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLDaJgXTVI/AAAAAAAACK0/fH4j5u-e4K8/s320/IMGP0701.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe that it is the start of week two already. To be honest I couldn't have done today's trip a week ago. It became a pretty grueling 70 miler.It all began well enough - I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at the hotel Maggiot then headed to the nearby Lidl to collect supplies of cereal bars. Incredibly I was able to walk straight to them for the store was arranged exactly as the Glenrothes store. I had a notion that today was going to be difficult and it didn't take long to get going.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My route today was a bit all over the place because there was no obviously simple way to avoid the route national and it's lorries. The start of the route involves 25kms through a forest with no villages or anything else marked. It was the D16 out of the centre of Chatillon. Could I find it? Eventually after a few false starts I asked a local. Bad mistake. He obviously didn't know but wouldn't let me go until he had "helped" some more. He insisted on taking me to "un anglais" whom he knew although we were not having any language difficulties. He didn't know either but produced a better scale map which showed that my first route an hour previously had been correct! So I was off an hour later than planned. When I got to what should have been the turning there was no mention of D16 or anywhere else save "monument de la foret" Should I risk it? Ok I thought it is heading in the right general direction. After a few kms a roadside marker said D16 and I smiled inwardly. The road was straight but very up and down and the forest was dense. I didn't pass another human being or any other live animal for 25kms. It was rather unnerving so I got my i pod out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLDw7zAXgI/AAAAAAAACLE/QoYa9pg3grM/s1600/IMGP0703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLDw7zAXgI/AAAAAAAACLE/QoYa9pg3grM/s200/IMGP0703.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 kms in and I came to the monument. Quite impressive as you can see. This was at a T junction but via michelin had no advice as to left or right. Oh dear. It went from bad to worse and I eventually abandoned my instructions and headed for a more frequented route. I had taken off my cycle helmet for the first time going through the forest but on the first fast descent I felt naked and stopped to put it back on. Reaching the D971 involved a lot of climbing and descending and climbing to reach the route that I had tried to avoid which was practically empty! The odd lorry went by but nothing to worry about. By now the worry was becoming where I would fill up my rapidly diminishing water bottles. It was becoming apparent that the reason there were no villages marked on the map was because there were no villages.&lt;br /&gt;It was around 2.00 when I got to the village of Molloy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLEE0npdnI/AAAAAAAACLM/BreWoDhKBn0/s1600/IMGP0709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLEE0npdnI/AAAAAAAACLM/BreWoDhKBn0/s200/IMGP0709.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;There was a rather grand looking hotel and through the window I could see that someone was eating but, it was starting to rain again, I needed a rest and my water bottles were empty. I was warmly welcomed and discovered that it is still possible get a coffee for a euro somewhere in France. I chatted to the locals at the bar one of whom had attended a bagpiping competition near Glasgow (that could have been Fort William or even further afield. Yesterday someone asked me if Manchester was in Scotland.) They were friendly and we shook hands as they left. I am starting to get the hang of the ettiquette of bars and cafes.The patron informed me that Dijon was only 35kms and so I set off in good spirits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLEWwQC6AI/AAAAAAAACLU/-JO3iyTu2tc/s1600/IMGP0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLEWwQC6AI/AAAAAAAACLU/-JO3iyTu2tc/s200/IMGP0711.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anticipating the finish line before I got there was a major mistake that I will try not to repeat. A series of punishing hills, the incredibly busy centre of Dijon and a sudden lack of energy conspired to make the rest of the afternoon a bit of a trial. I finally arrived at the hotel district of Dijon sud at 6pm pleased to have discovered a new chain but glad of a shower and some food. The Bonsai hotel is a mixture of all of the other hotels with some interesting twists of its own. First of all it is priced at F1 levels but its wi fi works!! It has electronic cards to open the doors so no need to memorise six digit codes nand it has an en suite and quite a big bedroom. The biggest difference was that the receptionist was genuinely helpful and showed me where I could stow my bike for the night inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate in LeClerc tonight for less the €10 including a beer and all the vegetables you can eat ( which is quite a few when you have been in the saddle for eight hours.) I can't say that I was totally comfortable but my rear was remarkably ok after that length of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have finally crossed the less interesting parts of Northern France and reached the start of the wine trail and hopefully better weather. Since I set off a week ago it has rained ever day save two. I have seen the sun on only two days and the temperature has breached 30 degrees only once. The guy I was chatting to at Molloy said it was the worst summer weather ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is another day. I am sure it will be sunny. I know that it will be fun and I know that I can do it. I saw signs to Nuits Saint George. Degustation here I come. I wonder if you can be drunk in charge of a velo in France. Somehow I doubt it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-3011264002007402774?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/3011264002007402774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-8-chatillon-to-dijon.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/3011264002007402774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/3011264002007402774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-8-chatillon-to-dijon.html' title='Day 8 Chatillon to Dijon'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THLDkeK0vTI/AAAAAAAACK8/yTTnD8-V8Kw/s72-c/IMGP0702.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-4204406589100391107</id><published>2010-08-22T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T07:58:47.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7 Troyes to Chatillon sur Seine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;What a surprise awaited me when I came down to breakfast – there were people eating breakfast and cars in the car park. When I retired at 10pm (sad old git) there were two cars and a van in the car park. They must all have arrived from the autoroute in the night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Another first occurred when an Englishman was trying to ask the receptionist for the hotel’s phone number for his return trip ( he could have easily found it in the F1 catalogue which was freely available)&amp;nbsp; and he had his phone poised and&amp;nbsp; at the ready but she couldn’t understand him so she looked to me for a translation service. Perked me up no end and I needed perking up because the rain had just started and the thunder was pretty loud and pretty nearby. I had a nice chat with another English couple who were heading off to St Moritz. The wife expressed interest in doing something similar to my trip saying she had been inspired. The expression on the husband’s face suggested that the inspiration wouldn’t last long – but I would be delighted to be proved wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I set off in the rain and within 5 km I had my answer to the “where are all of the cyclists?” question of yesterday – they only come out on Sundays. Soon I was joined by a husband and wife who were out for a Sunday morning 60km ride. They politely slowed for a bit while we chatted but were soon heading into the distance on their carbon fibre steeds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE67BtYNQI/AAAAAAAACGY/oyWrqQXACgc/s1600/IMGP0684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE67BtYNQI/AAAAAAAACGY/oyWrqQXACgc/s320/IMGP0684.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The road was predominantly flat as I followed the course of the river Seine crossing and recrossing it several times. The countryside began to change and I caught sight of the first vines of the trip on a chalky Champagne hillside. The Route Champagneoise suddenly became the Route Cremant 10 kms before Chatillon sur Seine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I stopped for a coffee in Mussy sur Seine at mid day&amp;nbsp; and encountered a Dutch couple sitting outside in the rain ( there was a canopy) so I joined them and we chatted in French. Whilst we were sitting outside a local who needed his belt to hold his belly rather than his trousers up told me that when he was younger he cycled from Paris to Roubaix. (he must have been much younger) He was quite knowledgeable about my route and gave me a few useful tips including how to get to tonight’s hotel, Le Maggiot. From the outside it looked like an uninteresting box but inside there are large public spaces and a spacious terrace outside. The room and bathroom are very idiosyncratically French but spacious and more than adequate for my needs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I arrived just as “le patron” was returning from his lunch. We came up the hill to the front door together and he welcomed me warmly to his hotel. He showed me where I could stow the super galaxy in the garage and suggested where best to place it so it would be out of sight and the wi fi connection worked first time. Quite a contrast with the impersonal and cramped F1 and only €10 more – food for thought. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It has been a good weekend. Friday was a lovely day off and Saturday and Sunday have been easy cycling days. It occurred to me that I am glad that my cycle computer doesn’t work anymore. I don’t really need to know what speed I am going at and what my average speed is. It is however far it is and I get there when I get there ( about 2pm today as it happens)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-4204406589100391107?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/4204406589100391107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-7-troyes-to-chatillon-sur-seine.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4204406589100391107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4204406589100391107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-7-troyes-to-chatillon-sur-seine.html' title='Day 7 Troyes to Chatillon sur Seine'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE67BtYNQI/AAAAAAAACGY/oyWrqQXACgc/s72-c/IMGP0684.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-5201504340753970089</id><published>2010-08-22T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T07:44:58.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6 Sezanne to Troyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Day 6 Sezanne to &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Troyes&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE3KA_JOsI/AAAAAAAACGE/7DTqZEYw2tc/s1600/IMGP0683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE0oRoxK4I/AAAAAAAACFU/0tbtN03nTRs/s1600/IMGP0667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE0oRoxK4I/AAAAAAAACFU/0tbtN03nTRs/s200/IMGP0667.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE019nsXrI/AAAAAAAACFc/2LKiXUMrgVA/s1600/IMGP0672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE019nsXrI/AAAAAAAACFc/2LKiXUMrgVA/s200/IMGP0672.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Rested, well breakfasted, and once again packed, I set out full of hope for an interesting and relatively easy day. I wasn’t disappointed. In fact &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Troyes&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; surpassed my expectations. It was a truly magnificent city full of old timber framed buildings and narrow streets. It was cycle friendly too with its cycle lanes and signs allowing cyclists to cycle up one way streets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE1EW4CDGI/AAAAAAAACFk/OwBepkhdmzg/s1600/IMGP0661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE1EW4CDGI/AAAAAAAACFk/OwBepkhdmzg/s200/IMGP0661.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The route from Sezanne to &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Troyes&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; was flat. I was beginning to wonder what had happened to the flat part of northern &lt;st1:country-region w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;France&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. This was it – La plaine Champenoise stretched as far as the eye can see only undulating gently. The other thought that kept striking me was, “Where are all the cyclists?” To date I have passed two tourists and a French cyclist out for his daily run. Not many in five days of cycling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today was great, I set off in a lovely 20 degrees which had reached 30 degrees by 11 and 36 degrees by the time I reached &lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Troyes&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; at lunch time. You would think that it would be far too hot and it is if you stop but while you are bowling along the air keeps you reasonably cool. The barrier cream seems to be doing its job and I am not too red. The bum cream is doing its job too and its not too red there either. ( how could he see? Think mirrors.)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE2GiAf97I/AAAAAAAACFs/SAquEcILT5c/s1600/IMGP0659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE2GiAf97I/AAAAAAAACFs/SAquEcILT5c/s200/IMGP0659.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;L'aube&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE2abesD7I/AAAAAAAACF0/L78VGFfPX7I/s1600/IMGP0662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE2abesD7I/AAAAAAAACF0/L78VGFfPX7I/s200/IMGP0662.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;canal du nord&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was a day of rivers and a canal. I crossed the river Aube twice the canal du Nord several times and the river Seine a few times as it wound through the villages.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE2rDlyMEI/AAAAAAAACF8/HFwSUwkyvcU/s1600/IMGP0664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE2rDlyMEI/AAAAAAAACF8/HFwSUwkyvcU/s200/IMGP0664.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;la seine&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;On the way to my F1 hotel which as usual is set in the middle of the back of beyond of nowhere I passed a stark war memorial to the massacre of the whole of the &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype w:st="on"&gt;village&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;  of &lt;st1:placename w:st="on"&gt;Bucheres&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; by the Nazis in World War 2. Women children and all of the men of the village were killed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The rage of the sculptor seemed to pour from each letter of the inscription which read (translated to the best of my ability) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE3KA_JOsI/AAAAAAAACGE/7DTqZEYw2tc/s1600/IMGP0683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE3KA_JOsI/AAAAAAAACGE/7DTqZEYw2tc/s200/IMGP0683.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;“ This monument bears witness to Hitler’s crimes against a whole population men women and children savagely assassinated a whole live village in flames these crimes are inexplicable the French remember you”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&amp;nbsp;It didn’t half put my inability to find the F1 hotel into perspective.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are no buses and I can’t face the thought of a 20 km round trip back into Troyes but it is definitely on the list for another visit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-5201504340753970089?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/5201504340753970089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-6-sezanne-to-troyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/5201504340753970089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/5201504340753970089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-6-sezanne-to-troyes.html' title='Day 6 Sezanne to Troyes'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THE0oRoxK4I/AAAAAAAACFU/0tbtN03nTRs/s72-c/IMGP0667.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-7337939702264688698</id><published>2010-08-20T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T08:32:16.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rest Day 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THFChfcu8HI/AAAAAAAACGg/QB7syPNIB3A/s1600/IMGP0654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THFChfcu8HI/AAAAAAAACGg/QB7syPNIB3A/s320/IMGP0654.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Sezanne is a pretty little town. I am right in the heart of "centre ville" and taking it very easy today. A leisurely stroll around the town - a seat in the square watching the world go by, a picnic lunch in the garden of the "hotel de ville" and then a beer in the cafe. The bike has been lovingly cleaned and oiled ready for more action and the cycling gear is hanging rather inelegantly from my bedroom window. &lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THFC1hZNiBI/AAAAAAAACGo/eencpRDKTac/s1600/IMGP0650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THFC1hZNiBI/AAAAAAAACGo/eencpRDKTac/s200/IMGP0650.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last evening I ate very well in the elegant dining room not an eyelid was batted at my lack of sartorial elegance. I began with "fromage de tete" which was described as a bit like "charcuterie" and turned out to be a bit like my granny's potted head. It was not "nouvelle cuisine" and i could hardly climb the stairs to my room at the end of the meal. Huge chunks of pork served with spaghetti and a mushroom and olive sauce was followed by a magnificent "tarte aux pommes" in a lovely "creme anglaise" and smothered in cream - heart attack on a plate but delicious. I can't wait to see what is on tonight's menu.&lt;br /&gt;Tired of paying to receive advertising calls on my mobile I bought a cheap French mobile this afternoon and I will turn my UK mobile off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The number is&lt;b&gt;: 06 13 82 55 55&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very wary of saying this but tomorrow should be a fairly easy 41 miles to Troyes. The legs are fine(ish) and I am looking forward to getting back on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to all of my sponsors and followers. Your support is very heartening and rewarding. I look forward to reading your comments whenever I have internet access.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-7337939702264688698?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/7337939702264688698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/rest-day-1.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/7337939702264688698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/7337939702264688698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/rest-day-1.html' title='Rest Day 1'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/THFChfcu8HI/AAAAAAAACGg/QB7syPNIB3A/s72-c/IMGP0654.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-4059980848905494669</id><published>2010-08-19T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T07:40:21.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4 Soissons to Sezanne</title><content type='html'>I ignored my mobile “It’s time to get up it’s 6.30” all the way until 7.30. On the map it looked like quite an easy day – pretty much a straight road on the D1 Soissons, Chateau –Thierry, Montmirail to Sezanne. A straight forward 100kms which turned into a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1kdiODFpI/AAAAAAAAB-M/lj_b2aTl_Uc/s1600/IMGP0629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1kdiODFpI/AAAAAAAAB-M/lj_b2aTl_Uc/s200/IMGP0629.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The D1 was more like the M1 with lorries flashing past at top speed and to make matters worse there was a head wind and no obvious alternative route. So it was head down and grind, and grind and grind. The worst offenders for passing too close were invariably British registered cars and lorries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1lK12JuWI/AAAAAAAAB-U/xJZoZkymTbA/s1600/IMGP0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1lK12JuWI/AAAAAAAAB-U/xJZoZkymTbA/s200/IMGP0638.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The worst part of this hateful road was the fact that there was not a flat stretch all day – not one!&amp;nbsp; Well apart from the bridge over the river in Chateau - Thierry where a nice couple passing by agreed to capture my pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the road was so straight you could see the next hill reaching away into the distance. The head wind stopped me getting up any great speed on the down hill sections. I now know that all of my gears are in good working order because they have been well used including the lowest gear of all. Nesles la Montagne ( the name should have warned me) lay at the foot of the longest an steepest hill so far. Think Cadger’s Brae followed by Annfield Brae followed by Mains Brae followed by the road from Falkland to Craigmead and you will just about have it. (for non-Fife readers these are the steepest hills in Fife) I made it about half way in “granny gear” before engaging my lowest gear (walking) to reach the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke the speed limit twice today. Once down into Chateau –Thierry and once down into Sezanne. The 50 km/h  limit was easy to break on such steep down hill sections. However the exhilarating down hill sections were no recompense for the constant battle up hill only to go down the other side only to battle up hill only to go down the other side ……It has been a difficult day and I arrived in Sezanne in good spirits but knackered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1lWEzlbmI/AAAAAAAAB-c/GnPsLlvHnrU/s1600/IMGP0646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1lWEzlbmI/AAAAAAAAB-c/GnPsLlvHnrU/s320/IMGP0646.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The hotel however has made it worthwhile. I was welcomed warmly and shown where I could put my bike in the garage at the back of the hotel. The Hotel de France occupies an imposing position in “centre ville.” The very formal dark and ancient reception area and staircase gives way to bright nicely furnished modern rooms with tv  and wi fi access. The dining room looks good and the breakfast area opens onto an internal “cour” with tables and chairs. Very French. Very welcome. F1 hotels are great for a stop over, sleep and go, but they are very impersonal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to take my first rest day and to stay here for two nights. It has been the most difficult day so far, but I made it, and I am now pretty sure that I can finish what I have started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately the wi fi is working (after typing a 28 digit cle wi fi - twice) but you would really have to want to connect to go through the required hoops . Dinner beckons. I didn't dare eat lunch with all of the hills - cereal bars only.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-4059980848905494669?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/4059980848905494669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-4-soissons-to-sezanne.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4059980848905494669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4059980848905494669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-4-soissons-to-sezanne.html' title='Day 4 Soissons to Sezanne'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1kdiODFpI/AAAAAAAAB-M/lj_b2aTl_Uc/s72-c/IMGP0629.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-2597011544966061478</id><published>2010-08-19T09:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T10:16:56.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 Amiens to Soissons</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1jYBXBQrI/AAAAAAAAB90/fPALltPOWfo/s1600/IMGP0610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1jYBXBQrI/AAAAAAAAB90/fPALltPOWfo/s200/IMGP0610.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;At least it isn’t raining I thought as I set off from Amiens. The sun finally made an appearance once I had arrived at Soissons. The first part of the route was through familiar rural France. Little villages with their large unused churches and the well used “salles de fetes” and tractors everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1jNR4Il5I/AAAAAAAAB9s/4CKiie7NLJ8/s1600/IMGP0613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1jNR4Il5I/AAAAAAAAB9s/4CKiie7NLJ8/s200/IMGP0613.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After a coffee stop at Roye (pronounced roi) a pretty touristy town the landscape gave way to large rolling  wheat fields.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1j2CGOapI/AAAAAAAAB-E/vvnAAQvJ7aw/s1600/IMGP0620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1j2CGOapI/AAAAAAAAB-E/vvnAAQvJ7aw/s200/IMGP0620.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The going was mostly flat and I was making good time arriving in Noyon at 12.30. I decided that since the temperature had crept up to a balmy 20C I would risk bread and cheese in the market square. Noyon was a very attractive old town with narrow streets most of which were one way. Cyclists can mostly ignore these restrictions and go straight to where you want to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less than 20 miles to go I’d be there far too soon! Fortunately the map doesn’t show the hills. I spent longer in granny gear mode than coasting along as I had all morning. After Blerancourt it just went up and up. But what goes up must keep going up or so it appeared. I was soon out of water and no villages in sight. fortunately a lovely old couple working in their garden were happy to "remplir mes bidons" Merci.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1jlN39pfI/AAAAAAAAB98/wRkPksszyKQ/s1600/IMGP0618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1jlN39pfI/AAAAAAAAB98/wRkPksszyKQ/s200/IMGP0618.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Soissons is a lovely city. (it has a cathedral) It is built on either side of Aisne with walkways and watersports right in the centre. The Cathedral was more or less on my way so I decided to take a look. It looked – to be honest like nearly every other cathedral that I have seen in France. Judge for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately my F1 hotel was about 5km out of town and after all of my climbing I was in no mood for a 10km round trip to explore further. Besides which I fell asleep about 5pm and woke up at 9pm just in time to get dinner in Restomarche ( an offshoot of Intermarche) which was 50 m away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet again the F1 wifi gratuit was not functioning so this tale will have to wait for a wifi connection which works. It was a strange day but after three days in a row the bum is fine, the legs are not bad and I am enjoying it immensely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-2597011544966061478?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/2597011544966061478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-3-amiens-to-soissons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/2597011544966061478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/2597011544966061478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-3-amiens-to-soissons.html' title='Day 3 Amiens to Soissons'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1jYBXBQrI/AAAAAAAAB90/fPALltPOWfo/s72-c/IMGP0610.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-4279703372174236005</id><published>2010-08-19T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T09:59:37.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2 Rang du Fliers to Amiens Est</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1i5GfXNNI/AAAAAAAAB9k/MBGxPte8Mow/s1600/IMGP0585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1i5GfXNNI/AAAAAAAAB9k/MBGxPte8Mow/s200/IMGP0585.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The day started well enough. I had an excellent Mr Bed breakfast and left promptly at 8 with the receptionist promising to look at my blog and wiching me “bonne route” and “bon courage”. The look on the faces of the mainly holiday makers at breakfast as I wheeled my bike through the reception area was a picture that I wish I was able to show you. From Mars? No from Scotland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rain started as I left Rang du fliers and continued for most of the day. Today’s route was mostly following the route of an old roman road from Amiens to the coast la Chausee Brunehaut. The problem with Roman roads is that they are unerringly straight which means that they go over hills rather than round them and the traffic is fast and less willing to stop for cyclists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1iP78cDiI/AAAAAAAAB9M/ljRbVEkIObU/s1600/IMGP0593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1iP78cDiI/AAAAAAAAB9M/ljRbVEkIObU/s200/IMGP0593.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The second lesson that I learned is that when the road is not marked on the map that is because the road stops and mud and potholes begin. I can’t blame Via Michelin which routed me away but I saw some nice windmills on the nice straight Roman road.&lt;br /&gt;As you can see it was mountain bike territory. I listen to Mr Via Michelin next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with the quieter is that they are quieter – no boulangeries, no cafes or restaurants. So when a caffeine hit is required some judicious map reading and guesswork are required. I landed in Crecy Pontieu the site of the battle of Crecy in 13 whenever. It was raining hard and the tourist were certainly not in the café. I enjoyed a welcome break from the weather and a rather expensive (€2.30 ) but lovely large coffee and a chat with “le patron”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1ieLZrLyI/AAAAAAAAB9U/4g1kpKx0H3c/s1600/IMGP0594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1ieLZrLyI/AAAAAAAAB9U/4g1kpKx0H3c/s200/IMGP0594.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It took me a while to work my way back on the documented route through very rural France. Roulant doesn’t adequately describe it, I was into the “granny gear” every second hill and reaching 50 km/hr down the other side. After a particularly long climb into Vignacourt my empty water bottles and I needed to be replenished. The Café du Sports seemed to fit the bill. I was welcomed in and served a very nice lunch by the owners who ran a café/bar/restaurant/tabac/depot du pain/ children’s meeting place. When I asked the ages of her children Mme said that only one was her 7 year old son and the other four were his friends who always seemed to gather there. Unfortunately the picture has not come out too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last mistake was to try to go through the centre of Amiens rather than round it as Via Michelin suggested. I was rewarded by a very cycle friendly city centre and the magnificent cathedral but it was almost impossible to find the route out the other side. There are signs aplenty to “centre ville” but none to the outskirts. However I eventually found someone who wasn’t a tourist who gave me good general directions back on to my planned route.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1ipm1WmzI/AAAAAAAAB9c/aDYmmV3eTY8/s1600/IMGP0602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1ipm1WmzI/AAAAAAAAB9c/aDYmmV3eTY8/s200/IMGP0602.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived at my F1 hotel wet, tired but in good spirits having covered approximately 70 miles. It has to be approximate, now, because the rain got into my waterproof cycle computer which now only reads the temperature, which varied from 14 to 17 degrees.&lt;br /&gt;“Quel mauvais temps”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-4279703372174236005?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/4279703372174236005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-2-rang-du-fliers-to-amiens-est.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4279703372174236005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/4279703372174236005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-2-rang-du-fliers-to-amiens-est.html' title='Day 2 Rang du Fliers to Amiens Est'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TG1i5GfXNNI/AAAAAAAAB9k/MBGxPte8Mow/s72-c/IMGP0585.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-7878928826465126849</id><published>2010-08-16T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T10:21:48.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 0 Ladybank to Coquelles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlx8h8yu0I/AAAAAAAAB8A/BgPsH2Vko6c/s1600/IMGP0569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlx8h8yu0I/AAAAAAAAB8A/BgPsH2Vko6c/s320/IMGP0569.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aren’t the trains wonderful? Certainly the ones that I traveled on today were. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 07.52 from Ladybank was surprisingly busy and with all of the goodbyes and waving I ended up taking my bike into an ordinary carriage – not a great start. However the young lady guard was not at all phased by this suggesting that I put it in the bike rack in the next carriage when we stopped at Markinch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carrying my laden steed down the underpass then back up at Ladybank had been the first indication that perhaps I had too much weight at the back. Trying to lift it onto the bike rack was the second – I couldn’t. I sat on a fold down seat outside the amazingly busy toilet to ensure its safety. The rest of the journey was to go very smoothly indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09.30 Edinburgh to Kings Cross with the bike securely strapped in the guard’s carriage. The train was very busy. The seats around me were used several times on the trip. I enjoyed a civilised conversation with a young dancer who was on her way to audition in London, a lovely smiley charity worker of Indian extraction who had met  Gordon Brown and a bubbly grandmother who was off to a dinner at the Dorchester. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;King’s Cross to St Pancras International. I braved the traffic and cycled the three or four hundred metres to the swish new high speed train station. What a contrast between the old and the new. I had to take a lift (with bike in tow) up to the platform. The 15.15 train was sleek and quiet and fast and empty. Disappointingly I had to put my bike in the wheelchair space. Dover finally at 16.10 and the same caper with the underpass as I had at Ladybank. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlyfeP3alI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/VGp16hzSEoE/s1600/IMGP0577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlyfeP3alI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/VGp16hzSEoE/s200/IMGP0577.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazingly far to cycle around the giant complex which is Dover Eastern Docks. However they have catered for cyclist thoughtfully preparing us for the other side by painting a red line to follow on the right hand side of the road where the hundreds of lorries swept by. To save queuing I was directed to the lorry check in booth where I persuaded the clerk to let me on the earlier than booked ferry which was just about to board. Much to the chagrin of the watching and waiting car lines I was directed to the very front and feeling like royalty I was waved aboard as the first vehicle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ferry crossing was the harbinger of the bad weather to come. White horses were at least as prevalent as white cliffs. It was rough with everyone doing impressions of drunks on a Saturday night to take a coffee back to their seat. On arrival, you’ve guessed, I was first off and on my way at last. The wind was howling and it looked sure to rain but I was in France following my instructions from Via Michelin and they worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlzhP1-bVI/AAAAAAAAB8o/_HTf7SkJwB0/s1600/IMGP0579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlzhP1-bVI/AAAAAAAAB8o/_HTf7SkJwB0/s200/IMGP0579.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;By 8.15 my bike and I were installed in my F1 room in Coquelles and I was heading off across eerily quiet spaces of the retail park to eat in the most amazing fusion of American and French cookery which is Buffalo Grill. It was hunger or McDonalds or Buffalo Grill- an easy choice in the end.&lt;br /&gt;It had been a very interesting first day. As I lay in half sleep I wondered what adventures lay ahead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-7878928826465126849?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/7878928826465126849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-0-ladybank-to-coquelles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/7878928826465126849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/7878928826465126849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-0-ladybank-to-coquelles.html' title='Day 0 Ladybank to Coquelles'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlx8h8yu0I/AAAAAAAAB8A/BgPsH2Vko6c/s72-c/IMGP0569.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-884624664434926615</id><published>2010-08-16T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T10:20:12.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 Coquelles to Rang du Fliers</title><content type='html'>Day 1 of my grand adventure and I am up at 6.30 and ready to rock and roll. A quick look outside reveals that it is very dull and very windy and the stoic hotelier informs me with seeming glee that “le meteo” predicts rain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to be deterred I proceeded to make up my water bottles carefully adding just the right “fix” of maltodextrine with a dash of electrolytes for good measure. Breakfast was fantastic value at €3 and consisted of orange juice, coffee, bread, cereal, and a  compote of stewed fruit. It said “a volonte” so I took them at their word and ate my fill.&lt;br /&gt;I finally set off on the great adventure at 07.45 full of hope and expectation. The good news is that the via Michelin instructions are easy to follow and that my back up map torn from the atlas was largely unnecessary. The bad news is that Via Michelin routes cyclist down such quiet roads that there are no cafes or bars or restaurants. It was 10.00 before I even passed a café and it was closed. Monday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlzMnek15I/AAAAAAAAB8g/YCpThkMSYfo/s1600/IMGP0583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlzMnek15I/AAAAAAAAB8g/YCpThkMSYfo/s200/IMGP0583.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I finally had my first café of the trip in Samer just as the heavens opened as they had threatened to do all morning. I duly covered my panniers and bar bag with their integral yellow rain hoods which were subsequently proved to work well. It has rained all day often very heavily. The other bad news is that the Pas de Calais is not flat. The day consisted of steady climbs followed by sharp descents into the next village then another steady climb….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGly-1q6uKI/AAAAAAAAB8Y/kj9NtEl4Pvg/s1600/IMGP0580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGly-1q6uKI/AAAAAAAAB8Y/kj9NtEl4Pvg/s320/IMGP0580.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;However I arrived in Rang du Fliers just after 13.00 wet but in good spirits."Is there somewhere inside I could leave my bike,"I asked aware that I was dripping all over the floor. "Dans la chambre , monsieur" was accompanied by a look which seemed to say "and where else would you put it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a nice hot shower and a trip to Intermarche for a picnic lunch (in the Mister Bed room it was raining “en cordes” - cats and dogs) I felt revived and ready to tackle a siesta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t the kind of first day I had pictured in my head – it is France in August, but my legs and back and neck and shoulders and wrists, held up well which hopefully bodes well for the rest of the week. The 45 miles had turned into 51 miles when I searched for a more direct route in the heavy rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I rediscovered the fact that skin is waterproof. It was a good day. I am determined to enjoy whatever this trip throws at me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-884624664434926615?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/884624664434926615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-1-coquelles-to-rang-du-fliers.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/884624664434926615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/884624664434926615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-1-coquelles-to-rang-du-fliers.html' title='Day 1 Coquelles to Rang du Fliers'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TGlzMnek15I/AAAAAAAAB8g/YCpThkMSYfo/s72-c/IMGP0583.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-8466758282414615275</id><published>2010-08-15T02:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T02:16:43.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At last I'm underway</title><content type='html'>Well the waiting is almost over and I'm finally on my way. I am writing this on the East Coast train from Edinburgh to London (well what else would you do on a Sunday morning?)&lt;br /&gt;I got up bright eyed and bushy tailed only to see that the blue skies and sunshine of Saturday evening had given way to a thick "pea souper" of a fog. As I cycled to Ladybank I was coated in a thin film of liquid, which wasn't sweat. Yuck. Who wants to sit on a train all day with wet clothes.&lt;br /&gt;However the day was instantly brightened by the arrival of my wife Pauline, my son Simon and my youngest grand-daughter Ruby. Her radiant smile and greeting to "mama" was enough to lift any gloom caused by the weather and was a wonderful surprise. &lt;br /&gt;I will miss my family during my four week trip but I am looking forward to the adventure to come.&lt;br /&gt;I am heartened by all of the messages of support and the incredibly generous pledges of money for the Samaritans. Thank you, especially to the anonymous donor of £100. Your generosity and kind words will spur me on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-8466758282414615275?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/8466758282414615275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/at-last-im-underway.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/8466758282414615275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/8466758282414615275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/08/at-last-im-underway.html' title='At last I&apos;m underway'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-8746015738117522608</id><published>2010-07-22T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T08:22:12.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Training in the South of France</title><content type='html'>Today is the first time in two weeks that the temperature in the shade has dropped below 30 degrees Celsius. It is a chilly 27 and I have been driven indoors briefly to check e mail and write this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is the warm weather training going? Well I think it is going very well.I have been out in the heat getting some kilometres into my legs and generally assuring myself that I have not bitten off more than I can chew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Shimano SPD sandals are great. They keep the feet firmly attached but let the air circulate around your feet. They are very comfortable both on and off the bike. I am training on an old BSA with an equally old Brooks professional saddle. I could do with more than the five gears but it is great for training on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife bought me a new pair of bib shorts for my birthday which are on the snazzy side. However lycra clad older men don't merit a second glance in this part of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sponsorship is starting to roll in which is great but it carries with it a certain pressure to perform. To all the sponsors so far I say "Thank you very much indeed it is greatly appreciated" To those who are prevaricating I say "Get your money out - it is a very good cause"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got "The man who cycled the world" by Mark Beaumont for my birthday. What an incredible trip that was. It puts my little trip into an appropriate context. It is a very good read and I would recommend it to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately there are only two more days of warm weather training before we need to return to reality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-8746015738117522608?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/8746015738117522608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/07/training-in-south-of-france.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/8746015738117522608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/8746015738117522608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/07/training-in-south-of-france.html' title='Training in the South of France'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-748251475616853695</id><published>2010-07-05T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T12:46:25.966-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom. retiral. Kettle. bike. ride. samaritans'/><title type='text'>Freedom</title><content type='html'>The day has finally come. Not the start of Brian's Big Bike ride, but the day of my retiral. Just think - no more work - ever! In many ways it;s a scary thought, but I don't expect to be spending too much time in my favourite armchair thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parents and pupils and staff of Kettle Primary School sent me on my way in fine style on Thursday July 1st with an evening of entertainment and reminiscing. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. It was good to see so many faces from the past and gratifying that they took the trouble to share the evening with me and my colleague Janice Russell who was also retiring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to thank everyone who attended or who sent their best wishes.I thank the members of "Kettles got nae talent" for their entertaining song and dance routine. I thank the three headteachers with whom I worked for their kind words.  I will miss all of their support but my attention is now firmly focused across the Channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who were unable to attend may be faintly amused by my final( I promise) Poem what I Wrote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final poem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's become customary&lt;br /&gt;A tradition at such time&lt;br /&gt;For me to stand up (wherever we are, often Balbirnie)&lt;br /&gt;And prattle on a bit in rhyme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't used to take much&lt;br /&gt;To be sufficiently of note&lt;br /&gt;You just needed to have a special birthday, or leave or retire or come back&lt;br /&gt;To get a "poem what I wrote"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as Kettle's poet in residence&lt;br /&gt;It seems to fall to me&lt;br /&gt;To say a few words &lt;br /&gt;At this our leaving spree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But where to start, what to say?&lt;br /&gt;I can't fit in the half&lt;br /&gt;Of what I  think that I should say, to mark this day,&lt;br /&gt;Of our leaving Kettle's Staff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start at the very beginning,&lt;br /&gt;A very good place to start&lt;br /&gt;When there's a  tale to tell&lt;br /&gt;It's the most essential part&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started off in the annex (now the nursery)&lt;br /&gt;In 1983 in May &lt;br /&gt;Finishes twenty seven years later &lt;br /&gt;Almost to the day&lt;br /&gt;(well it is a poem )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What terrible deed did I commit&lt;br /&gt;In some other life I wonder&lt;br /&gt;To deserve such a life sentence&lt;br /&gt;I'd have got less for murder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has  always been certain children&lt;br /&gt;As everyone here knows&lt;br /&gt;Who have a highly developed talent&lt;br /&gt;For getting right up your nose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They niggle and they wriggle&lt;br /&gt;Could start a dispute in an empty class&lt;br /&gt;Engender panic attacks in visiting teachers&lt;br /&gt;Won't let other children pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like ....&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm sure we all know who&lt;br /&gt;And to name them  here and now &lt;br /&gt;Would  be so unprofessional to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tonight I am retiring &lt;br /&gt;And shy and smiling sweetly&lt;br /&gt;So I'll keep them up my sleeve &lt;br /&gt;To myself - discreetly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is one thought – yes just the one&lt;br /&gt;That has lately been exercising my brain&lt;br /&gt;It just won't go away &lt;br /&gt;It returns again and again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we're finally prised away&lt;br /&gt;For we're both in with the bricks&lt;br /&gt;How may Fife Council workers&lt;br /&gt;Will it take for them to fix&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gaping whole that will be left&lt;br /&gt;In the fabric of the school?&lt;br /&gt;That's an easy question&lt;br /&gt;We're neither of us fool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough to think that we're unique&lt;br /&gt;The A team the number one and only  crew&lt;br /&gt;I'll answer my own question&lt;br /&gt;It'll take just two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicola and Claire  they'll both be  happy&lt;br /&gt;At Kettle, have a laugh&lt;br /&gt;Part of what has always been&lt;br /&gt;A pulling  together staff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me it was  a  privilege&lt;br /&gt;And  a pleasure it has been &lt;br /&gt;To be an integral part &lt;br /&gt;Of this Kettle school scene&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But everything has its time&lt;br /&gt;By which it should be done&lt;br /&gt;Everything a sell- by -date&lt;br /&gt;Which should not be overrun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a natural progression&lt;br /&gt;Like cradle to the grave&lt;br /&gt;All good things come to an end&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye must be waved&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you all for being&lt;br /&gt;Here for us tonight&lt;br /&gt;To send us on our way&lt;br /&gt;On a note that is just right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(e sharp) Its a private in- house &lt;br /&gt;sort of joke&lt;br /&gt;Which only imminent retirees&lt;br /&gt;Would dare to invoke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a fairly sad occasion&lt;br /&gt;and we might yet shed a tear&lt;br /&gt;But they'll turn to tears of joy&lt;br /&gt;Very rapidly never fear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to friends and family&lt;br /&gt;And to esteemed colleagues too&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to all the parents &lt;br /&gt;Without which a school cannot do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your best wishes&lt;br /&gt;And for your gifts and friendship too&lt;br /&gt;Finally, thanks for your being further back&lt;br /&gt;In the retirement queue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-748251475616853695?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/748251475616853695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/07/freedom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/748251475616853695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/748251475616853695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/07/freedom.html' title='Freedom'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-5777662260595575419</id><published>2010-06-28T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T13:33:17.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Serious Preparation</title><content type='html'>So far most of my preparations have been in front of a computer screen rather than on my new Brooks saddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was finally able to create my charity giving page at Virgin Money. I discovered this worthy rival to JustGiving.com quite by chance although it was bike related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my new TopPeak track pump at the side of the drive after I had pumped up my grandaughter, Sacha's tyres for her. Unfortunately my dear wife reversed over the pump and completely shredded a tyre which resulted in a visit to Ladybank Tyres for a new tyre. Bear with me I'll get there eventually. It transpired that a few Ladybank Tyres employees are cycle enthusiasts and someone had left out a cycle magazine, which I greedily devoured, while I awaited my new tyre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the articles introduced virginmoneygiving.com, which is a &lt;b&gt;not for profit site&lt;/b&gt; which ensures that a much greater proportion of funds raised reaches its&amp;nbsp; intended recipients. 2% charges instead of 5% and a one off fee of £100 for the charity to be registered instead of £15 per month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you feel inclined follow the link alongside this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/briansbigbikeride" target="_blank" title="Link opens in a new window"&gt;&lt;img align="right" alt="Make a donation using Virgin Money Giving" border="0" src="http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/giving/Images/banners/106x139_donate.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-5777662260595575419?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/5777662260595575419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/06/serious-preparation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/5777662260595575419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/5777662260595575419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/06/serious-preparation.html' title='Serious Preparation'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3345953413367732961.post-1390746273340355291</id><published>2010-06-23T15:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T13:54:17.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brian's Big Bike Ride Brought Forward</title><content type='html'>Why would anyone want to cycle from Calais to the Med?&lt;br /&gt;Are you mad?&lt;br /&gt;You're not 21 any more you know.&lt;br /&gt;What if you have to give up after a few days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCPFv0alsbI/AAAAAAAABmM/fBnUq8q0DLk/s1600/IMGP0443.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCPFv0alsbI/AAAAAAAABmM/fBnUq8q0DLk/s320/IMGP0443.JPG" width="192" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;These were some of the "helpful" comments I received when I revealed my plan to mark my retirement from teaching, by challenging my hitherto sedentary body to propel me and my newly acquired Dawes Super Galaxy from the North to the South of France.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had originally planned to make this trip in 2012, when I was scheduled to retire aged 60. I thought that it would be a good way to mark these two major milestones in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However at very short notice in May this year Fife Council decide that they could "manage" without my last two years of teaching and offered me early retirement - an offer which was grabbed gratefully and with indecent haste on my part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, they ruined my careful plan for this event and forced me to bring forward Brian's big bike ride to August 15th 2010 the official date of my retirement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better get the lycra looked out and start training!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3345953413367732961-1390746273340355291?l=briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/feeds/1390746273340355291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/06/brians-big-bike-ride-brought-forward.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/1390746273340355291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3345953413367732961/posts/default/1390746273340355291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://briansbigbikeride.blogspot.com/2010/06/brians-big-bike-ride-brought-forward.html' title='Brian&apos;s Big Bike Ride Brought Forward'/><author><name>Brian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16559745138851435197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCKA9PByMjI/AAAAAAAABlo/sM79FD0uh78/S220/IMGP0448.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8O6hRwCLXyE/TCPFv0alsbI/AAAAAAAABmM/fBnUq8q0DLk/s72-c/IMGP0443.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
