Rennes to St Malo

It had been my intention to go back into "Rennes centre" and explore but it was a lovely sunny morning (for a change) and the legs felt fine, so I decided just to set off for St Malo.

I was on the NE of Rennes and the road I wanted (voie de la liberation) was NW.  I was looking at my map at a junction when a Frenchman of about my age riding a hybrid bike stopped and asked where I was going. When I told him he said he was going that way and I could follow if I liked (he should have said if I could).

 He set off at Tour de France pace but I wasn't about to let down Ecosse so we reached the road I wanted in no time which reached Roman road straight into the distance and UP. My French guide turned off with lots of Bonnes - route, courage, journee and I ground my way up the first of an endless succession of steep hills up followed by exhilarating fast downs.

I was following a route marked "St Malo a velo" when the signs disappeared and I was faced with a motorway entrance and lots of little place names none of which seemed to be in the direction I wanted to go. I wasn't about to make the autoroute mistake again so I flagged down a road biker (which was brave for until now they had generally ignored me with disdain). He explained that we needed to zig zag through the small villages to regain the route and offered to guide me. Unlike before we went at a normal pace (20kph) and chatted amiably. He was a really nice guy who was out for his usual 25km Sunday morning ride- which turned into 40kms because he guided me much further than was necessary. Riding side by side chatting was an experience I hope to repeat.

The campsite in St Malo was on a sort of isthmus between two ports just below an ancient fort. The steep climb should have warned me that the site would not be flat. The  choice - fall off the mat downhill or sideways. I met a really nice couple from Rugby who had been on a camping trip around Spain and France for a month. They had been enthusiastic bikers previously and took a keen interest in my trip. By the time they had told me of their camping trips to Africa and India I felt that  it had put my little journey into proper perspective.


True to form it rained all night and everything was packed away wet again  but I slept well thanks to the "wee dram" dispensed by by my camping neighbours.