One for cyclists (mainly)

All the five-day forecasts for here for this week or so have veered on the optimistic: the temperatures and wind have been reasonably close, but the actual amount of sun has been much lower than predicted. Still, we've avoided the UK's weekend storms, and I've done 400 miles in the week without getting properly wet,  and have had enough sun to get some tan-lines, so I'll leave the complaining to the locals. (And yes, they do moan when it's not sunny and warm!) 

Today's forecast: rain in morning, clearing around lunchtime. So, after some morning shopping, off at midday for something like a 70-mile ride, with two purposes: to ride up the D70-D411 from the D93 near Aouste,  and to try the alternative road (the D202) from the Col de Lescou to St. Nazaire-le-Désert. 

The bits for cyclists:

1) The D70-D411 is a really nice little road to get up to the Saoû road,  but deliberately it is poorly signposted, to dissuade car drivers using it as a rat-run (I assume). If you use it the other way you'll easily miss it (see photo). As ever, use a map, or GPS, if you don't know your way around. You'll know I'm a map man. 

2) I wouldn't recommend the D202 from Col de Lescou as a way to get to St. Nazaire-le-Désert: the D355 is a lovely little descent, whereas the D202 is very gravelly and sketchy on the way down. If you're a col-bagger and must to the Col de Muse, much better to ascend from St. Nazaire, though still watch out for gravel on the descent to Col de Lescou. 

It actually was still a lovely ride, despite the less-than-scorching weather, my estimate of the length of the ride (it ended up being 80 miles), and the need for a rather more hasty return than anticipated. Fortunately my legs were game on this occasion.

Here's the route: http://ridewithgps.com/routes/7375230

The easily-missed turn

Looking back down to Col de Lescou from the Col de Muse

Weather passes by over the Roanne valley

French fountains

If you've done some cycling in southern France, you'll know how welcome the sight of a village or town fountain is. We're not talking about some merely ornamental carbuncle, but something of real practical use for a parched cyclist. For the real French fountain is where you can fill up your empty water bottles, drench yourself in cool water, or rinse your washing (if you've had the foresight to bring your laundry with you).

Certainly in these parts it is unusual to pass through even a small settlement where you can't find some public source of 'Eau potable'. Indeed, it's so much the norm that it's pretty safe to assume that any water running into a trough in a village or town is 'potable' unless it specifically says it's not. (See photos below).

Having said that, I'm not sure how far south you have to come before that assumption is safe: last summer I got caught out by a fountain in some anonymous central French town, as I cycled from Exeter to Die (see how I sneaked that in there): it looked all the world like the examples down here, but I guess the slight green tinge should have alerted me. Well, the taste certainly did, and having spat it out, the nearby café provided water, but only after checking that I'd bought a coffee. Harumph.
The reference to washing wasn't entirely made for comic effect. I actually spoke briefly to an old lady in Sainte Croix (near Die) who was in the process of doing some washing in the trough. Which brings me to the bit of advice to fill your bottles direct from the piped water, unless you particularly enjoy the taste of old ladies' washing, and probably rampant French bacteria and parasites.

I'd be interested if anyone knows where the 'Eau potable' assumption is a safe one. All I know is that it's both reasonably safe, and very welcome down here.

Pictures below are of three examples from a ride today. Firstly a massive (40ft long!) trough in Cléon d'Andran, with a clear 'Eau non potable' sign; one from Bourdeaux (check the spelling), the 'Eau potable' sign probably there because there's another fountain just 50 yards away; and two examples from Saillans - the first is one of my favourites, as it's a good example of the attractive AND functional fountains you sometimes find.