Vaucluse Dreamer

It’s hard to believe that we only finished the ride a few days ago, as life has been a bit full-tilt since we pedalled back up the hill to the house, and finally unstrapped the bags from the bikes.

The grins are still there though, as they come from deep inside, pushed up on a wave of contentment & happiness, after spending such a wonderful two and a half weeks together, simply riding our bikes through France.

We have a mad couple of months ahead, planning for our son’s wedding here, in September, whilst also having a number of events to do back in the UK too. There really won’t be too much time to reflect and revisit the last few weeks, so we thought that we’d try to capture some of our immediate post-ride thoughts now, whilst it’s still crystal-clear in our minds.

I suppose the first thing to say is that we loved every minute of the ride and learned so much, both about cycle touring and ourselves too, which was something we really weren’t expecting, as at our age, we thought we knew ourselves well-enough. We found that the more we chatted about it, the more we weren’t sure that what we did was really a cycle tour, it felt much more as if we were simply riding our bikes each day, just to get home… Almost a very long-distance, very enjoyable commute.

The second thing to say, is that we have already had the maps out on the floor, looking at what we might like to do next. We have lots of ideas about where to go and when, but one thing is certain, and that is that we will be off again, as soon as we possibly can, as we enjoyed ourselves far too much.

I think the best way to write this now, is to answer the questions that we’ve been asked, as we have made our way down. At least then all the information will be in one place (as much for us as everyone else too)

1. How did we carry all our kit?

The important thing for us was that we wanted to ride our favourite bikes down, rather than buy touring or gravel bikes. We are always happy on our road bikes, love riding them and as this was my first long-distance ride then we didn’t know how I would get on, so spending money on new bikes may have proved an expensive mistake, if I had hated it.

When Andy had done the ride a few years ago with the boys, they camped en route, carrying so much kit that they broke spokes in the back wheels of their bikes and had to buy a trailer, just to give them a chance of finishing their adventure. If we hadn’t learned from that, then we would have been a bit stupid.

We had decided not to camp (we are happy to consign our camping days to history), so we were able to travel light, using bike-packing rear carriers From Alpkit, front bags and small bags to fit inside the frame too. Our plan was that we would focus on packing the most important bits first, and after that if what we wanted to take didn’t fit in the bags, then it wouldn’t be coming with us.

In our back carriers, we each packed 2 full sets of cycle kit, 2 pairs of shorts and 2 t-shirts and a pair of lightweight sandals, with a thin fleece too. One frame-bag contained the puncture repair kit, pump and basic tools (happily including a quick-link, which saved the ride when Andy’s chain snapped). The other frame bag had our wash-stuff, a bottle of clothes-washing detergent, and a basic first aid kit. The front carriers held our paperwork, spare batteries, maps and other general bits that we would need (including a knife, corkscrew and small glasses for the inevitable picnics that we would have en route)

In fact, even when everything was on the bikes, they still weighed less than my old Trek Hybrid, affectionately known as Miss Daisy, so we didn’t feel as if we would be overloaded from the start.

We were really worried that we had missed something, or perhaps had packed too much, but there was nothing that we didn’t use, and the only thing we actually had to buy was more toothpaste and deodorant, so we really couldn’t have done much better.

How many punctures did you have?

I honestly can’t believe I’m saying this, but we had none, which I still find totally astounding.

So often, on just our normal rides we feel the tyres going down and have to stop for an emergency change, so it never crossed our minds that we would get all the way through France without having to change even one tyre.

Of course, we did what we could to minimise the chances of it happening, fitting Specialized ‘Armadillo’ tyres to both bikes, in the few days before we left. They may not be fast, but they were as durable as we could find, so hoped we may reduce the risk of punctures. In our minds preventing even one or two would be worth the investment.

As it was, we had to pick shards of glass out of the tyres a couple of times, but they hadn’t gone all the way through, and the inner tubes themselves weren’t affected. Also, we didn’t even have to pump the tyres up once on the whole way down, so we really were very happy indeed.

How did you plan your route?

I’m not sure we ever really planned a route, more than having an idea of where we wanted to go, which may seem a bit strange.

When Andy and the boys did their ride, they had planned the route in advance, following the Velodyssey cycle route, with it loaded onto a Garmin. That had worked well as a guidance system, and was fine until the trails became little more than rocky tracks, when they found it hard to find another way through, as they had no map. As a result, they spent time on tracks that were totally inappropriate for the bikes, and as a result damaged wheels on the way. We needed to avoid that at all costs.

This time, we knew that we wanted to get to La Rochelle for a day off and after that, we had a few options. Our preferred route was to head into the Dordogne, before making our way across towards The Ardeche, finishing by coming over Mont Ventoux, from Malaucène. But we knew that we may have to change our thinking if the weather closed in, or if we simply fancied going a different way.

If we’re honest, we really got it wrong on the first day in France, relying on Google, then Michelin cycling route planners, which tried to take us off in every possible direction, down ridiculous unmade tracks and even through fields filled with crops. Many expletives were uttered, until we stopped and turned them all off, relying simply on using the online map to find a route between villages and following ourselves as a blue dot on the screen.

All of a sudden, we were in control and started to relax a little, as we found ourselves riding along beautiful, quiet roads and simply enjoying the ride. This was the way forward for us, and the following morning we sat on the bed writing a basic route on a piece of paper, with road numbers between villages, which I could simply follow on the ViaMichelin App.

We then found a map of the North West of France and I slipped this into the top of my front carrier, giving me a wider picture of the area, and our ‘Mission Control’ system went live. It worked perfectly, and we found that by using a mix of the paper map to see a basic route between villages, we could use the ViaMichelin App to really decide which roads to use.

We hate main roads and busy roads, preferring to use the smaller roads that appear white on the App, but a pale yellow, when you zoom right in. We found that these were quiet, but generally had a really good surface, making for some really lovely cycling. The other thing we did was to look at Google Street View, and by randomly clicking along the length of the road, we could get a real sense of the weight of traffic using it. By mixing these together, we tended to find perfect routes, with lovely quiet cycling, but could see the wider picture on the map if we got it wrong , like when we left Pons, when a quick glance allowed us to see an escape route, where we could turn off and find a new way through, which was absolutely delightful.

I know this probably wouldn’t work for everyone, but I love planning a route, and following a map, so this added to the enjoyment of the trip and we found some incredible little roads that we would never have seen, if we had blindly followed the route suggested by Google, Michelin and even Komoot. I suppose our back-road routes added between 15 & 20 km to a more direct, main-road route, but we never regretted a single extra turn of the pedal.

The additional bonus is that we now have maps covering 3/4 of France, with our route scrawled in green pen across them. Not only were they priceless in helping us to navigate our way across, but they are also lovely momentoes of the trip, and will inevitably be used again soon.

What technology did you use?

As I have mentioned, we were really travelling light, so all we had with us were our own mobile phones with data, and a couple of spare battery packs, to keep them going (as having the maps permanently open, really drained the power)

We had considered taking a tablet, or even my laptop, although we wouldn’t have been able to carry that at all. So everything had to be done on the phones, which I still find astounding, as I only had my first mobile when our youngest was born.

Not only would we rely on them for mapping & route planning and staying in contact with family & friends, but we had decided to do live videos and reels on Instagram each day, as well as doing a daily blog of the ride too. It may sound a bit much, but they were as much for us as everyone else, as we knew that we would be living each day as it came, so if we hadn’t got a record of it, then it would have quickly become blurred in our minds and we would have forgotten a lot of the detail.

So the phones worked overtime, and we still managed to do everything that we had hoped to do, even if sometimes it involved us finding places to sit, in the evenings, where there was enough of a signal for us to do what we needed to do. When we stayed at the Chateau in Lacenne, the only spot was sitting on the wall of the chapel, with the gravestones behind us and open fields in front, as I frantically typed and put the reel together, before the sun dropped below the horizon.

We used the Booking and AirBnB Apps to organise our accommodation and all the rides were recorded on Komoot that was much nicer than Strava, which felt far too competitive for a ride like this.

Apart from that we had nothing else, and there was a delightful simplicity in this approach, as looking back on it, we really didn’t need anything else at all.

Did you book all your accommodation in advance?

The simple answer is no, as we really didn’t know where we would be, or when we would be arriving, but we did book the first 3 nights, just to give us a bit of security and a bit of a target too.

We knew that we would feel happier if we had the first couple of nights booked, just to take the pressure off ourselves, as we got used to what we were doing, settling into turning the pedals and finding our way through. We thought that we would have enough on our plates just doing all that, without having to worry about finding accommodation too.

Also by having the first couple of nights booked, we would be forced to make some progress, as we are far too easily distracted and would have found an excuse to stop somewhere, meaning that we would probably end up taking nearer to 4 weeks than 2 to complete the ride.

It actually worked really well, finding 2 great B&Bs, with a particularly warm welcome at the first one (near Mur de Bretagne), where the owner took our bags in for us and showed us to a secure room, where we could store the bikes. It was just what we needed after a longer day’s ride than we had imagined.

The third night, we spent with ‘Twitter friends’ who had offered us a room, which proved to be a perfect, convivial evening, in the heart of the beautiful and wildlife-filled Vendée Marais, finding us awake at 6am, just watching the birds in the garden, absorbed by the beauty and peace of this wild, and unspoiled area.

From then on, we tended to book the following night’s accommodation each evening, once we had taken a look at the map to get an idea of where we would be heading to next. The only day that we didn’t do this was when severe hail storms were threatened, so we left it until mid morning to have an idea of where we could get to, as the weather started to close in around us.

We tended to book a mix of Chambres D’Hôtes, staying with some lovely, and incredibly welcoming hosts, in beautiful locations…

Or apartments, with a washing machine, where we could make sure everything had a good wash, rather than the daily hand-washing of our cycle kit, which worked well-enough, but it was always good to know everything had been through a ‘proper’ wash, every few days.

We also stayed in a couple of hotels, including a simple, but well-placed Ibis in Toulouse and an incredibly welcoming cycle-friendly, family-run hotel in Aigues-Mortes.

We found that it was very easy to book as we went along and happily we didn’t have any horrors, staying in some wonderfully quirky and comfortable places, on the way.

What training did you do?

We are very lucky, in that we can cycle when we want to, and actually cycling is our preferred way to pass our days. We live in a beautiful part of France, with stunning roads, wonderful views and some of the best cycling we have found.

We tend to ride, perhaps 4 to 5 times each week, generally doing anything from 50 to 75 km per day, so in that respect we are relatively cycle fit.

The simple truth is that we just enjoy cycling, we chase croissants rather than cols, just happy with the process of turning the pedals to get from A to B. Our idea was that this bike ride would just be an extended version of that, although I wasn’t really expecting us to average over 100km and climb nearly 1000 metres, every day that we were on the bikes. Although it never felt unmanageable.

Apart from our normal day to day rides, we didn’t do any other training at all.

What was the average KM ridden per day?

If you had asked me before we left, I would have suggested that we’d be doing about 80 – 90 km per day, but in fact, we did much more. Over the ride, we averaged about 105km per day, which was so much further than I ever imagined, but it actually felt OK.

The thing is that we enjoy the process of cycling, turning our legs to get somewhere, so much more than actually being somewhere, once we arrive. As such, we are happiest cycling for most of the day, stopping at a Boulangerie or café for breakfast, sitting in a field or on a bench with a view to munch our lunch and finding a quiet spot for a mid-afternoon ‘full-fat’ coke to keep our legs turning, until we get to where we want to be.

So riding about 100km each day worked well for us, which was a bit of a shock as I have probably only done a total of three 100 km in a day rides before this, and they’ve been spread across years, not day after day. But that said, apart from the long 160km ride to La Rochelle, they slid comfortably past and I never felt it was too far or too much.

We would start riding between 8 & 9am and would comfortably be at our chosen accommodation for the night by 5, or perhaps earlier, so always felt we had enough time and hadn’t overstretched ourselves.

And in our minds, that is what it’s all about …

What was your most challenging day?

We’ve chatted about this and we both have different days. For me it was pushing the pedals on the first day, as I honestly didn’t believe that I would make it over Dartmoor to Plymouth. I know that probably sounds a little ridiculous, but we used to ride up to Moretonhampstead from Exeter and I always found that a struggle, yet this would be going on again from there, with a bike, carrying the bike-packing kit and I had only done a little ride around the Estuary with it, the day before we left.

The demons were playing havoc with my confidence and my legs felt like jelly as we turned the first pedal to leave the village, but all I could do was keep pushing the pedals and I felt so elated as we crested the top of the Moor, passing the dramatic granite Tors, before the long, swishing descent towards Plymouth, and the night ferry to Roscoff.

Once that day was done, then I felt so much happier, although I still couldn’t look beyond the end of each day, and only started to believe that I would make it home when we passed the sign to mark us entering Provence, just outside Arles.

For Andy though, his most challenging day was when he realised that we were really up against it, to get to Carcassonne ahead of a severe storm that was chasing us through the villages.

There is a real fear of being caught in a bad storm on a bike, with so many dangers that come with it, from lightning and hail, to just the simple weight of water falling from the sky, and there was very little opportunity for any shelter where we were, as the thunder rattled behind us

We had to get a move on and abandon the gentle back-road route that we had found, moving instead onto a busy D road that went past the airport to get into town. The drivers were not very forgiving and Andy saw my life pass in front of his eyes, as the driver of a Mercedes almost skimmed me with his wing-mirror, as it flew past in the face of oncoming traffic.

We may only have had to pedal for about 4km on the road, but with the traffic and the storm, it came with a level of anxiety that we hadn’t experienced before in the ride, and didn’t experience again after either.

We made it into the city, diving into a bar as the storm hit, which turned out to be one of the most violent ones I’ve ever experienced, with a lightning strike near the bar setting all the nearby car alarms off, as the streets filled with water with the drains unable to cope with the deluge.

We had made it by the skin of our teeth, and spent a good hour drinking a well-earned beer, whilst the storm raged around us. Certainly a challenging day!

What was your favourite day?

We have both found this almost impossible to answer as we had so many wonderful days on the bikes.

I loved the ride through Southern Brittany to cross the Loire, with the emotion I felt at reaching that milestone, before finishing the day cycling through the Marais, watching Egrets and Birds of Prey, take flight as we passed.

Then again there was the epic day’s ride into La Rochelle, completing 100 miles in a day and cycling straight from the cycle path onto the old harbour, full of life colour and the atmosphere that we love, in that very special city.

Or perhaps the ride through the vineyards around Saint Emilion, with beautiful, undulating roads, pretty, well-kept villages and immaculate vineyards stretching almost as far as the eye could see, in every direction.

The roads we took in the Herault too, that climbed onto a plateau, with spectacular views across to the ridge of the Haut Languedoc, and the sound of Bee-Eaters and Orioles accompanying our ride.

Or simply the scents of the wild flowers and herbs, and the special moments of catching wildlife unawares too, like the time a hare dashed onto the road in front of us, realising we were there, doing an almost comical double-take, before showing us a clean set of heels as it hurtled back into the corn.

There were emotional highs, from crossing The Loire, entering Provence and catching our first glimpse of The Luberon in the distance, as well as more simple moments, including when we managed to refill our water bottles from a tap in a cemetery, when all the bars and shops had been closed.

I suppose there were so many favourite moments that we really can’t pick any one out. This ride was all about filling our saddlebag with memories and we managed it, as they are almost full to overflowing now.

Would you do it again?

The simple truth is that I’d be back on the bikes for an adventure like this, at the drop of a hat.

We almost feel a little bereft that it is over already. It passed far too quickly, which I suppose is a sign that we had a great time (even with the occasional glitches, but that’s all part of the adventure, I suppose)

I can’t believe that it took me 56 years to discover that I rather like this way of exploring, and hopefully it won’t be too long before we are able to pack the bags again and head off to see where we end up.

We’ve already had the maps out, spread across the living room floor, looking at options. Perhaps a few days making our way to Menton and back? Possibly catching the train to Bordeaux, then cycling home on the route we had hoped to do, finishing on Mont Ventoux? Or even simply bimbling around La Rochelle and the islands for a few days R & R.

To sum up

This was an incredible experience, we travelled from a small village in beautiful East Devon, all the way through France to a lavender-scented Provence, simply by pushing on the pedals of our road bikes.

In total we covered 1587.3 kilometres and climbed a total of 15,610 metres on the way.

It was a wonderfully simple time, taking just the basics, spending a couple of weeks, doing what we love, in a country that we adore.

We called it our ‘Saddlebag of Memories’ ride, because we have been coming to France together for 34 years and have so many shared experiences that we wanted to revisit. The fact is though, that our Saddlebags were filled with new memories as each kilometre passed and they are so much heavier than they were when we left the UK.

We had a ball, yes there were challenges and worries on the way, but we laughed, chatted and simply loved the whole experience.

Crossing France by bike, we experienced so much more than we would have done by simply driving in a car. We felt every lump and bump of the landscape, smelt the honeysuckle, herbs and salt on the breeze, and were shepherded through villages by squadrons of screaming swifts and swallows. We disturbed deer in fields, saw Ibis puddling through the rice fields in The Camargue and watched as the salt water rose around the oyster beds in the Etang de Thau.

We ate croissants, drunk coffee and spent time simply watching the world pass by, stepping off the hamster wheel of life for a while, and enjoying simply living in the moment.

It really was worth every turn of the pedal.