Vaucluse Dreamer

I remember my mum saying that the older you get, the faster time goes and as a teenager, I just thought she was exaggerating. But, she was spot on.

I started writing this post, this morning, (6am) having just had a chat with our youngest, as he has headed off to work. I was amazed, when I realised it was 9 years ago today that they (Andy & the boys) cycled into Sète after their incredible Moor to Med, bike ride down through France. It had been such a wonderful adventure

It still seems like yesterday, and certainly not 9 years ago at all, and it really was quite an adventure for them all, with our youngest being only 15 at the time. I didn’t join them that time, having just bought our little home in Provence, I stayed there, acting as logistics from a distance and chewing my nails, in a state of almost constant anxiety, hoping that all would go well

Of course it did, although the ride wasn’t without its difficulties and worries, but isn’t that what an unsupported cycling adventure is all about. In a life where so much is sanitised and structured, and so much risk has been removed,  it’s good to step outside that comfort zone and deal with whatever is thrown your way. And cycling 1000 miles, with 2 boys, carrying everything that they needed on their bikes definitely hit that.

But nine years ago today, I drove to Sète, and after an ice-cream, pedalled out, along the coastal cycle path to meet them almost at the end of their last leg. I finally bumped into them at Marseillan Plage, and even now, the memory of seeing them cycling towards me, makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I love that Andy had that special time with the boys and they made so many memories on the ride that they still talk about now. From somehow, cycling into the heart of one of the biggest music festivals in France Which was a bit of a surprise

To the ‘wheel-fixing Genie’, who appeared out of nowhere, with a fully stocked cart of old bikes and bike tools, just when they thought the ride would have to end on Day 2, after a particularly bad section of cycle path caused spokes to break in the rear wheels. What an amazing day that was

By the time we had loaded the bikes and the boys into  the car, they had pedalled over 1600 km and had such a great time that it whet my appetite to do something similar. 

It didn’t happen immediately , and as ever, the best things are worth waiting for. But finally, 2 years ago, Andy and I did our own ride down, turning the pedals from East Devon back to Provence, Filling our saddlebags with memories, as we rode

It had niggled at me for a long time, and despite the regular cycling that we do around the roads of Provence, I really didn’t believe that I would be capable of cycling that sort of distance. I needed to prove to myself that I could do it, buoyed up by Andy’s constant reassurances that I was very capable, and would love it.

So despite my nerves and huge lack of confidence, we decided on a basic way down and ultimately had an incredible time, pedalling our way home along the back roads, and quiet paths of the cycling heaven, that is France.

Any worries I had, melted away with every turn of the pedal. We simply enjoyed the ride, just the two of us, making it up as we went along. We would decide on a route each evening and I would mark it on the map and scribble directions on a scrap of paper to slip in with the map for the next day. We would stop in a field or on a verge for lunch and book accommodation for the evening and Andy got very adept at hand-washing and drying our kit every evening, whilst I wrote a daily blog.

It was a very stripped back, easy-going time, carrying just the absolute basics with us and simply taking each day as it happened, enjoying cycling along beautiful roads that took us through some of our favourite parts of France. It all passed too quickly, and by the time we arrived home I was already starting to think about the next ride. Andy was right. I was hooked.

Since then, we’ve cycled home from Montpellier, via  the beautiful town of Pezenas, where we spent a couple of nights brocanting, and exploring the surrounding area on the bikes, Which was utterly glorious

And last year, we loaded the bikes onto the train to head to Madrid, cycling back to Provence through the spectacular and vast, open countryside of northern Spain.

That really was an incredible adventure, although slightly different to the first, as the accommodation options were much more scarce. Instead of ‘playing it by ear’ or ‘winging it’ on a daily basis, we carefully planned a route and booked places to stay, before we left. It meant we had some big days in the saddle, but at least we knew that we would have somewhere to sleep each evening, and actually it took the pressure off, and worked really well.

The route took us through some amazing scenery, including riding on empty roads through dramatic gorges, where we were brought to a stop by the sight of  kettles of Vultures circling above us, Which was a stunning sight

And across the vast, open landscape of the Monegros Desert, after leaving the vibrant and beautiful city of Zaragoza. We saw no other cars for miles, with the silvery strip of tarmac disappearing into the distance.

Before we eventually pedalled our way over the final Col, nearly being blown over by the wind, as we made our way back into France and on to the Beautiful little town of Collioure

It is certainly fair to say that I am hooked, and just three weeks today, after we have finished our summer of events, with my little jewellery business

we will pedal out of the pretty village of East Budleigh and start to head back to Provence, On our latest little adventure

This time, we’ve planned to take a different way down, and after enjoying having an established route through Spain, I’ve spent the evenings plotting a route that will take us through the west of France. We’ll be pootling across Brittany, before spending time with friends in the Marais Breton.

Then we’ll head through Saintes and Cognac, before visiting some of the most beautiful villages of the Dordogne and Lot et Garonne that we haven’t seen to date.

The line of our route is drawn on the maps and I’ve double checked on Google Maps that they are nice and quiet too. In fact, it’s all come together remarkably easily and we’re excited to get started now

There’s just one final piece of the puzzle that still needs to fall into place; getting our hands on two tickets for the opening match of the ProD2 Rugby season at Angoulême. It just seemed like the perfect opportunity to design the route to enable us to watch our team, Provence Rugby, play their first match of the season.

Then, we will continue our ride, taking a slow route across country to Bordeaux, where we will catch the train, to get to Aix in time for the first home match of the season too.

We’re watching the Angoulême Rugby website, like hawks and will click the button to book, as soon as the tickets go on sale ( the hotel is booked in the town, so we are ready to go), but that really is the last little bit that needs to be done now.

The piles of clothing and equipment that were on the floor in France, are now strewn across the floor in East Devon and the study is filled with the bikes for the ride, and another 2, already packed into cases, ahead of the trip to Japan too.

In between events and making pieces for my stand too, we will be out cycling here, just to keep our legs turning. This morning’s ride took us along the rolling, Devon lanes, to Cullompton for coffee. A simple task that failed miserably, when we found that our favourite coffee and cake stop there is closed on Mondays. (Note to self – check opening days before cycling anywhere for coffee.) Luckily there was another one nearby, so we pulled in there instead

So with events, family and friends to visit, as well as sorting out everything that still needs to be done for the ride, I have a feeling that the next 3 weeks will pass by in a flash. I’m sure that we’ll feel as if we are rushing to get everything finished in time to start turning the pedals, to get to the station to catch a train (with our fully loaded bikes) to Southampton, where we’ll start the ride.

If it carries in like this, I’ll soon be sounding like my mum!