February 2015

Apologies for the unimaginative post title, though it "does what it says on the tin": my February half-term getaway, again with my brother. We travelled entirely by train, and though it's still a long day (my preferred choice these days is to fly to Paris Charles de Gaulle, and then train from there), everything was as easy as it could be, with no hitches, and it was both cheaper and easier than driving.

The week was spent with a combination of walking, reading, cycling, and relaxing. The weather started with cold and wet, and finished in glorious blue skies and sun (well, apart from the day of departure: back to rain). Photos below are from our arrival, walks round Vercheny, up the Meyrosse valley, Luc-en-Diois and Le Claps, and a ride to Saoû. In amongst them you'll see a photo of the 'nest' of Processionary Moth Caterpillars (apparently a threat to the pines, but amazing all the same), and a red kite near Luc.

Riding-wise, just a couple of shortish ones: a loop to Recoubeau and back via St Roman (the plan had been to go as far as Luc-en-Diois, but the weather had other plans), and the loop to Saoû, here.

Les Liotards

Lichen gone mad

From Vercheny towards the Roanne Valley

Home for the Processionary Moth Caterpillar

In the Meyrosse valley

A typical 'cloud cap' in the Meyrosse valley

A red kite near Luc-en-Diois

Building blocks near Luc-en-Diois

Geological stuff near Le Claps

Luc-en-Diois

Luc-en-Diois

Saoû

Donjon de Lastic, near Saoû

Les Trois Becs from inside the perched valley near Saoû

The head of the Meyrosse valley, taken from the Col de Romeyer

The Col de Rousset, from the Col de Romeyer

From home to the Alps ... by bike!

This isn't the latest news ... but rather recounting my hugely enjoyable ride from my home in Exeter to Die back in August 2012. I thought I'd put a posting here on the blog in case anyone else is contemplating a similar trip, and might find it helpful; also, as it was a splendid adventure, and you might just find it interesting in itself.

First the context: I had already stayed near Die (the very first time for me), at the Wessons' house in St. Andéol-en-Quint in June 2012, and had an unforgettably wonderful week. Back in Devon in July, I was looking forward to a summer of cycling round the countryside in the warmth, when I realised that summer was going to bypass England yet again. Rather morbidly I started considering how many summers of fully active cycling I had left in me, and decided that I wasn't going to lose another one to the grey, cool and windy conditions England was offering. And so I decided to cycle TO the Alps. As you do.

After establishing that the Wessons would be in residence, and could put up with my presence for a few days, I sorted a route, booked my ferry crossing out, and my flight home. with a bit of creativity with bike racks and cars, I worked out that I could ride there, and catch a plane back, with my bike returning later on my bike rack, kindly carried by the Wessons & their car.

So, to cut a long story short: the route consisted of two days cycling to Portsmouth from Exeter, via Shaftesbury & the New Forest (I decided that the 130-mile route would be a heavy one to do in one day for the first day), and then five days for the planned 530 miles from St Malo to Die (with deviations it came to nearer 600 miles). The weather on the English side was grey and and a bit damp; on arriving in St Malo, the sun was out, and 25C promised. In fact, that was the coolest day, and by the time I got to Die it was 35C.

I was amused while waiting for the ferry - there must have been about twenty-or-so cyclists, all laden down with panniers anywhere they could be fixed. Nearly all of them were heading for Brittany, and when one or two asked me where I was heading, with just my saddlebag for company, there was surprise when I said 'The Alps'. But that's how I decided to do it: as light as possible, finding B&Bs along the way. So my kit consisted of: basic repair stuff (enough to get me to the next town and a bike shop, if necessary), showerproof top (not used, in the end) and arm/leg warmers, in case of chill (also not used), passport, phone, computer tablet, money, and a T-shirt and shorts, so I could wash my cycling kit each night. You'll see a photo below of the 'laden' bike.

And a summary of the ride? Absolutely wonderful. A week of solo riding as I pleased, mostly lovely roads (one or two getting down to Tours a bit on the straight, monotonous and slightly too busy side). There were just too many highlights to list them all, but a wonderful lunch in Thuret, an unbelievably relaxing and cheap B&B in Boën, and a final day of 141 miles, with 12,000ft of climbing, in 35C temperatures and with a decent tailwind, are all seared into my memory.

Firstly the French part of the route: http://ridewithgps.com/routes/1441823 - as I say, I did make some deviations from this in the second and third days, as I found some of the straight C-roads a bit monotonous and busy, but certainly the route from south of Tours was sheer delight.

Food-wise, I ended up eating café meals twice a day, and coffees morning and afternoon, which allowed me to fill up water bottles. It was warm enough that even with loads of ice in the water was warm within an hour. I also ended up calling at several houses along the way if they'd mind filling up my bottles, as I was getting through about 4-5 litres a day: no-one refused, and several were only too pleased to chat and offer encouragement too.

Cost-wise, it wasn't cheap, as everything was bought as I went, and I couldn't really shop around for places to stay: travelling alone, I didn't pre-book anything, but each place I decided to stop, the first B&B/hotel I called at had a bed, ranging in price from 55 to 25 euros. I reckon in total it cost me £100 a day ... but that was two restaurant meals a day, multiple café stops, and accommodation. Still cheaper than doing an organised tour. And it bought me unforgettable memories, that's for sure.

Blue skies on arrival in St Malo

The first morning's coffee stop

The lunchtime view in Fougères

The fully-laden bike

 

Tours Cathedral, after a lunch of rabbit stew

 

One of the many excellent calorie-replacement stops

.,, and this is where it was provided.

A refreshing view

 

The wonderful café in Thuret

Thiers

And here's me arriving at St Andéol seven days and 729 miles after leaving home. The photo was only slightly contrived...

Walkers: be prepared to turn back!

As mentioned before there is a wonderful selection of paths round here, from 'routes forestières', through signposted 'grandes routes', to 'autres sentiers' (other footpaths). It is a walkers' paradise, with a richness of scenery which must match just about anywhere in the world. Buy some local guide books, the local maps (IGN 1:25000 are good, though not as clear as Ordnance Survey), and off you go.

BUT ... a word of warning. The downside of the dramatic scenery is that you need to use your discretion. In short, be prepared to turn back if your path is dangerous because of the season, weather, or state of repair. Last winter I turned back twice when routes that would be perfectly fine in Summer were turned into potential death traps for a casual walker by ice and snow: some of the more mountainous paths have some quite dramatic drops, and you wouldn't want to slide over them.

And today's walk, done in perfect weather, after a promising start, soon turned tricky: one section, where the earth path had become extremely narrow because of a landslip from one edge was fairly simply and safely bypassed with a bit of a scramble through some trees. However the next section, along a narrowish ledge along a crumbly cliff face with a few large sheer drops to the right  was a no-brainer: time to retrace steps and keep myself safe for another walk another day.

It's worth remembering that the dramatic geology round here is the result of constant change: not just over long time-scales of millions of years, but all the time, now. Many roads are prone to rockfalls (the Col de Grimone is currently shut because of a major one), and many roads and paths, out of necessity, have been built on and surrounded by structurally weak geology.  It's a geology which is both awe-inspiring and a bit terrifying. And it's certainly worth seeing.

Most of the photos are from today's aborted walk. The last couple are from Vercors yesterday, and suggest why walking maps may need to be taken with a pinch of salt there in Winter.

Judging from the state of the rocks above the path, this isn't a place to hang around for too long.

To the right there are some sheer drops of a hundred feet or so. Hmm.

When the French say a path is dangerous, it is.

Time for a scramble over the banks to the right.

The 'interesting' path to Pas de Sagatte. Treat with extreme caution.

An escape to the sun...

England has been throwing quite a lot of weather at us lately. The best that can be said is that "at least it hasn't been cold". But it's been everything else, and even the British, who are used to 'weather' have got fed up with it. And though I haven't had the miseries that some poor people have suffered, I was ready to escape to the south of France for a week.

Well, just getting to London to catch the Eurostar was quite an adventure, and instead of the prebooked train to London, we ended up driving to St Alban's, where we parked at a kind friend's house, and caught the train to St. Pancras International to find our Eurostar. Anyway, from there it all went like clockwork, and we got home by 9.30pm. Made a nice change from a 19-hour drive.

(I had the amusing diversion of being asked to unpack my rucksack after the X-ray check at St. Pancras security. "Why me?" I thought, as I unpacked my crampons, microspikes, tool-equipped saddle bag, spare mobile phone, two chargers, Google tablet, compass, whistle, electric shaver, and assorted cycling kit and a few clothes. Hmm, on reflection, I did have rather a lot of metal and electrical items. A fair cop.)

And so to unwinding. Day one was, er, wet. Nonetheless, my brother and I had two pleasant short walks, first down into Die to buy provisions, and then later up the stream from Les Liotards towards the Glandasse.

Day two started in the murk, but with a good forecast. And as we walked down into Die, what I think was a cloud inversion lifted, and we were treated to a typically Alpine gloriously clear day. I took the opportunity to walk up to the 988m Croix St. Justin, which is a well-known viewpoint south of Die, about two hours' walk up, and one hour down. Like most paths round here it's pretty well waymarked, but it's always worth taking a decent map to check your progress and any odd corners, and to see what the surrounding terrain is like.

The photos are from the walk, and as well as general views show some of the typical signage you'll find on French paths.

The view to Croix de Justin from Die

Die Cathedral from the start of the climb

You need to keep your eyes peeled sometimes for the path markers ... on rocks, or stumps...

... or on young green trees...

.... or on older ones: here's one telling me the path goes left...

...and here's one telling me that the path doesn't go here.

The climb to Croix de Justin is definitely worth it - about two hours up from Die, about an hour back.

The magnificent panorama from Croix de Justin