Vaucluse Dreamer

Today started very early, with us being woken by the prehistoric screech of herons flying in to fish in the canal behind us. But we put our earplugs in, turned over and managed to doze a little longer, managing a lie-in until 6.30!

We stretched ourselves out, after our first night under canvas, clambering out of the tent and pulling ourselves upright, with as much fluidity as lego-people, with just about as much clicking too. In fact, I wasn’t as stiff as I imagined I may have been, so perhaps we’ll keep the tent for a bit longer.

After throwing some clothes on, we crept out of the site and walked up into Blain, in search of some breakfast and a coffee, finding a Boulangerie and heading to a local bar, which seemed to be the only place open. It did though, have a very cute and attentive dog that kept us company whilst we munched our croissants & drunk our coffee, chatting about the day ahead.

After breakfast and a final stroke for our new friend, we wandered back to the campsite, under telephone lines filled with swallows, resting before their long flight south. With the morning chill, that had made us pull all our layers in for warmth, it really did feel as if Autumn was starting to make her presence known.

Once back at the site, we started taking the tent down, getting to grips with what needed to be done and finding ourselves having to repack almost every bag. I’m sure it will get easier, the more we do it. Slowly but surely though, everything went away into the panniers and we hopped on the bikes and cycled out to start the day

We had a weird sense of déjà-vu to begin with, as we followed the main road out of the town, as it was the same route we had taken 2 years ago. This time though, we turned left, instead of right and took a quiet road down towards the Loire.

It was very different countryside to yesterday. The rolling hills had gone and we found ourselves riding through a very rural landscape, with more isolated hamlets and houses and incredibly quiet villages

As we passed from place to place, we were keeping an eye out for somewhere to stop for a second-breakfast, but everywhere we passed was firmly shut. In fact, we stopped at one point just to check that it wasn’t a Bank Holiday, as if it was then the ferry across the Loire may not be running. But no, it was just a normal Thursday in southern Brittany, peaceful, gentle and pretty.

Just before 12, we arrived in the riverside town of Couëron, buying sandwiches for lunch, before heading down to catch the Bac (the ferry across the river) to Le Pellerin, on the south bank. It’s an incredible service that is free to use and means we don’t have to take either of the hideously busy road routes, to cross the river.

The crossing only takes a few minutes and just after 12, we were sitting on a bench, looking back at the northern bank, happy that we had finished the first leg of the trip, by cycling across Brittany.

The first time we did the crossing 2 years ago, I was in tears as we boarded, overwhelmed with the emotion of actually getting that far by bike (I never believed I was capable of it). This time though, I watched the boat come towards us with a smile, seeing it as a key waypoint in our long ride south and just enjoying the moment.

We munched our lunch on the bench, watching the Bac go back and forth across the river, doing a Little lunchtime update

Before heading on again towards Bouin and the beautiful Marais Breton, where we will be staying with friends for a couple of nights.

As we cycled through, it felt as if we had crossed into a different country. Cycling away from the Loire, the houses change immediately, with the dark roofs left in the north bank and the bright, terracotta tiles taking over.

The smells too shift, from the bracken and earthy scents to warm tarmac and pine, with the landscape shifting to paler colours as well. The dark greens, golds and browns give way to bleached stubble and the cows were sharing their fields (and sometimes their backs) with flocks of graceful white Egrets,

It never ceases to amaze me that there is such a dramatic change after just crossing a river, and I wonder if it is my imagination, but it’s something that we’ve noticed, since first visiting this area many years ago, and it’s not changed since. That simple crossing does make a huge difference.

It’s a lovely ride through, towards our friends’ house, deep in the Marais Breton, near Bouin, and as we left Villeneuve-en-Retz the vast skies of the Vendée opened out before us, and our noses caught the first scent of the sea, and we turned onto the quiet road that runs through the salt-marshes.

It’s a spectacular place; a vast, protected salt-marsh riddled with water-filled ditches and a haven for wildlife. As we pedalled along we heard regular plops, as the Ragondins dropped into the water accoompanied by the cries of birds.

Our ride was also accompanied by a strong head-wind coming in with the new tide, but we didn’t mind. It was just beautiful.

We arrived at our friends’ and after unloading the bikes spent a glorious evening in their garden watching the colours shift across the landscape, before taking a walk down to the sea, just a hundred metres from their door.

The sunset across the sea was spectacular and as we chatted , I was transfixed by the intensity of the colour, bathing everything with an incredible light at the end of our 4th day on the bikes.

Arriving back at the house, as the colours started to fade into dusk, and after a perfect end to a gentle evening, Peter called us to see a huge flock of Glossy Ibis circling around us. Just beautiful

What a great way to mark our first 300km of pedalling, on this latest trip.

A day off the bikes now and a trip to the Ile de Noirmoutier planned, with hopefully some of the local potatoes too!

Cycling does make you think about food