Vaucluse Dreamer

After yesterday’s (at times frustrating) ride, we spent a perfect evening, having a slow supper, with a very lovely bottle of wine…..

and ambling around the beautiful streets of Aigues-Mortes, listening to the swifts screaming down the streets, as the sun started to set

We slept well, which has been a recurring theme of this adventure and woke refreshed, for today’s penultimate stage, through The Camargue to Arles and on to Tarascon for the night.

Over supper, we had looked again at the route for today and had decided that, instead of following the Mediterrannée à Vélo route, we would try to lengthen the ride by following some quiet backroads, that I had found on the map

As it would be a shorter ride today, even with the extensions I had planned, we started the day, walking back into the walled town for breakfast, before loading our bikes and cycling on, taking the first of the little white roads from the edge of the town.

Almost immediately, the noise and bustle of rush-hour faded away behind us and we found ourselves cycling along an empty road, edged with water-filled ditches, called on by the sound of the fan-tailed warbler that had cheered us out of the marais, at the start of our long ride to La Rochelle.

This is the cycling that we love. Empty roads, hardly any traffic and just nature for company. It really was the perfect way to start the day.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long, as we had to join a busier road to head down towards Saintes Maries de la Mer, on our way to another road that looked like it would be a perfect way to potter through the Camargue.

Happily the busier road had wide verges for us to cycle along, as we passed through huge areas of vineyards, all having signs for Vins de Sable, the unique label for the wines of the area. As well as producers selling their own products, including the local rice and salt.

We also passed one of the traditional, thatched buildings, which are such an iconic image of the unique and beautiful Camargue.

The kilometres passed quickly, helped on by the pancake-flat landscape, and we reached the road I’d marked to follow, just before crossing the Petit-Rhone, surprising a Ragondin (little coypu) that was enjoying a moment’s peace in a patch of reeds by the side of the road. I’m not sure which of us was the most surprised, but it certainly disappeared quickly, as I pulled in.

We watched the river for a while, before hopping back on the bikes and heading off along the road that proved to be simply perfect. It took us on a sinuous route through the marais, and it gave us an incredible view of the local animals and wildlife.

We passed fields of white horses, saw the black bulls…

and were amazed at the bird-life, doing an emergency stop on the bikes, when we saw a congregation of Glossy Black Ibises paddling through a rice field.

The Camargue is such a unique place to visit, and ride through, with sights that you just don’t see anywhere else in France, but sadly today, I didn’t catch a sight of even a very distant Flamingo.

We soon settled into chatting, cycling and just pottering along, enjoying the ride, spotting birds and stopping to watch them, whenever we felt like it, with hardly a car passing us.

Finally, we joined a road that took us up to Saint Gilles, where we stopped for a drink, whilst the midday rush took place. Knowing that we had a short distance to do on a main road, we felt it would be better to wait until everyone had got to where they wanted to be for lunchtime and it was a good choice. Between 12 and 1215, the road through the town was solid, with cars heading in both directions, horns blaring if someone tried pulling out and just the wonderful, mad chaos of lunch in France. Then they were gone and at 1220, we hopped on the bikes and pottered out, not seeing a car in the process.

We took the main road, a short distance towards Arles, before we were going to turn off and take another road (so small it wasn’t actually on my map) that would take us into Arles itself.

Before we turned off though, we crossed a bridge over the Petit Rhone again and I noticed a sign indicating that we were just entering ‘Provence, Alpes, Côte D’Azur’

and at that moment I simply burst into tears. Not just the ones that leak from the corner of your eyes, but racking sobs that blurred my vision, making me stop.

It seems a bit silly, but it was such a symbol of how far we had come, couple with the fact that we were nearly home, and if I’m honest, it was something that I had never expected I would see, when we turned that first pedal 16 days ago.

Once my tears were mopped dry, we carried on, finding yet another delightful road, that took us straight into Arles. Again we were just amazed by the wildlife, being cheered by warblers and bee-eaters as we pedalled on, stopping for lunch on the verge, watching more of the Glossy Ibises, paddling through the flooded rice fields.

The arrival into Arles was so much easier than I had imagined it would be, and we turned off to make our way through the streets, in search of the Amphitheatre, in the heart of the old town.

I had visited Arles A stunning Roman city, earlier this year, with friends and had fallen in love with it, but Andy had never really been. So to see his face as we pulled into the area around the Amphitheatre was just a delight. He had no idea it was there and was just taken back by the size and beauty of it, whilst we did today’s Daily Update

I did get a bit emotional again, but I think the sheer enormity of what we have done is starting to hit me. Between us, we have been on this planet for 117 years and we have just turned the pedals on our bikes for nearly 1500km through France. I know I’ve said it before, but I really didn’t think I would get across Dartmoor to the ferry. Also, we have done this totally unsupported, with a toolkit that fits in a small bag, so any major bike problem could have seen us having to give up and just find another way home

I have a feeling that tomorrow, I will be a soggy, tearful mess, as we cycle back up the Luberon valley to get home.

So tonight, we are at Tarascon, in a rather lovely Chambres D’Hotes, listening to the church bells and wondering what to do about supper

Then a final route (I’ve found some more nice white roads to ride) back home tomorrow. And then it will be over, but what an adventure we will have had….

And yes, we will be very sad to unclip our shoes from the pedals, when we finally get home.

As I mentioned for the last couple of days, at the start of this adventure, I wondered about using the ride to help raise some funds for our local Resto du Coeur, in Apt. The Restos du Coeur are part of a national charity in France, established to support those in most need, in communities across the country, offering everything from food support, to community & cultural integration too. It is an incredible network, that does amazing work and it would be good to use this ride to perhaps support our local one too.

I didn’t like to mention it at the start, as if this ride had fallen apart within the first few days, then it would have felt a little like asking for money on false pretences. But as we now have Provence in our sights, and we are starting to dare to believe that this funny little adventure may soon be over, then I thought I would post the link to our fundraiser.

If you have enjoyed following our journey and would like to help support our local Resto du Coeur, then you can Donate here