Vaucluse Dreamer

What a day …. Apologies for not posting this last night, but after a full day”s ride we turned up at our delightful Chambres D’Hote in Caurel and got chatting to another couple, who are also touring on their bikes and ended up having supper with them too. So by the time we got back to the room, all I could do was sleep ..

The day had started early, with a knock on the door at 5am, from a steward bringing us breakfast, which was a lovely bonus from the upgraded cabin, so we had coffee and croissants before leaving the room and getting back into the car deck to reclaim our bikes.

Getting off the ferry was so much quicker than I imagined, and as we cycled onti the port, we were sent straight to a newly opening passport booth, where we had our passports checked straight away and rode out if the port, almost before the first car. The official at the booth smiled as he said there was no wind for our ride, before laughing and saying ‘je blague’ … I’m joking … He really was!

The day couldnt have dawned more differently to the day before, and our sunny ride across Dartmoor. The sky was a slab of heavy grey cloud and the wind was dashing across the sea, damp with salt and bitterly cold. We immediately wished that we had brought arm-warmers as well as our gilets and coats.

But somehow it didn’t matter, we were in Roscoff and finally turning the pedals, back on french roads and on our way. The simple plan for the day was to follow the corniche into Morlaix, then head on, across the country to the nights stop at Caurel, near Mur de Bretagne.

Turning left, almost as soon as we left the port, we picked up the Velodyssey cycle route and followed the lanes through fields of artichokes, watching the birds battle against the stiff breeze, as we made our way to Carantec, where we joined the lovely road that runs alongside the estuary, all the way into Morlaix

It’s a beautiful way to start the day (even under grey skies), very similar to the estuaries in Cornwall or South Devon, with pretty houses along the edge and beautiful views across the water.

We arrived in Morlaix before 9am, with nearly 30km completed, so we found a café and tucked into a second breakfast. This was when our over confidence took control. The day’s ride was to be about 100km, but we had already done over a quarter by 9 am, so would be at our destination just after lunchtime.

Why not go to Huelgoat?, we thought … Just a little detour! we thought … And we have find memories of the little place and it’s lake, so we rejigged the route and headed off again.

We followed a road out of the town, climbing gently, before joining a cinder track that ran along the bed of an old railway line, which took us on a beautiful route through woodland. Protected from the wind, by the trees it was perfect riding, although with the cloud, the trees and our cycling glasses, it felt as if we were riding almost in the dark.

Then, for some reason Google decided that it needed to take us off this route onto the back roads, obviously detecting what it thought was a short cut to Huelgoat. At first it all seemed OK, until the route turned into a field (not a track through a field, just a field) and so we turned the planner off and made our own way through, finally finding ourselves back on the cinder track and heading in the right direction again.

At Huelgoat, we bought the makings for lunch and sat on a bench by the lake, munching baguette, shivering in what was, by now, a bitingly cold wind. There was nowhere to escape it, swirling round in every direction. It was overwhelmingly grey.

Having had a tizz with Google, we decided to give Michelin a go for the afternoon route. At first that worked well, taking us out of the little town on a road that swept down past the tumbling stream, on a surface that was like a ribbon of silk, until it told us to turn off, taking us up a steep hill, before trying to take us down a forest trail, which was Ricky and impassable. When we looked at the map, it was only taking us off the ribbon of silk, to rejoin it about 1kn further on. So Michelin was turned off and we just dropped back into the road and cycled on through villages with great street sculptures

And through beautiful countryside too….

before we climbed up into Carhaix, which brought back so many memories for Andy and his ride with the boys. They had arrived in the town, when it was hosting France”s version of Glastonbury ‘Les vieilles charroux’ and the town was a mad, chaotic scene of festival life. They somehow even cycled into the festival ground, only to be ushered out by security guards … In fact I think this sculpture commemorates them being chased out!

It was calmer yesterday, but it still brought Andy out in a slightly cold sweat!

By now though, the slab of grey cloud had ripped apart and the blue skies and sun warmed the wind, which was trying to push us backwards, almost as fast as we were heading forwards. But with the sun on our faces, it was just lovely to be making our way through Brittany, with Caurel finally in our sights.

We followed a peaceful road that ran alongside a cinder trail, before hopping onto it and following its straight line route, cutting above Mael Carhaix and on to Rostronen, where we wingled our way through some new roads and continued on along our own Strade Bianchi towards our stop for the night.

By the time we arrived, we were a tad tired (OK, more than a tad tired) as our little diversion had not only added kilometres to the day, but also quite a lot of climbing too.

The 100km day had turned into 132km with 1940m of climbing too, which after the big day’s ride over Dartmoor was quite an effort … See our route here

So the incredibly friendly welcome from the owners of the Chambre D’Hote was lovely, and finding such a comfortable room, with probably the biggest, fluffiest towels I’ve found, was almost as good as it gets!

…. And we really deserved a beer and a good three course meal last night….

So this morning we have looked at a route through and we’re going to buy a map, even if we just send it home (or even throw it away) when we’ve used it. The tech versions both let us down yesterday, but it’s a learning curve and we have to do what feels right for us. And old fashioned paper, with coloured lines and town names is what we like best…

So we’ll pop down for breakfast now and see where today takes us …