Rest Day 1

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.
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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.
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.

The number is: 06 13 82 55 55

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.

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.

Day 4 Soissons to Sezanne

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.

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.

The worst part of this hateful road was the fact that there was not a flat stretch all day – not one!  Well apart from the bridge over the river in Chateau - Thierry where a nice couple passing by agreed to capture my pain.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Day 3 Amiens to Soissons

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.

After a coffee stop at Roye (pronounced roi) a pretty touristy town the landscape gave way to large rolling wheat fields.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Day 2 Rang du Fliers to Amiens Est

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.

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.

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.
As you can see it was mountain bike territory. I listen to Mr Via Michelin next time.

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”

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.

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.

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.
“Quel mauvais temps”

Day 0 Ladybank to Coquelles

Aren’t the trains wonderful? Certainly the ones that I traveled on today were.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.
It had been a very interesting first day. As I lay in half sleep I wondered what adventures lay ahead.

Day 1 Coquelles to Rang du Fliers

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.

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.
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?

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….

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."

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.

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.

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.

At last I'm underway

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?)
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.
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.
I will miss my family during my four week trip but I am looking forward to the adventure to come.
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.