Postcards from Provence and beyond

For today’s ride to Beziers, we had a choice. We could take the direct route, which would be quick and easy, or choose the longer route, which would be slower and take us to new places.

Of course, we chose the longer route.

We woke this morning, and I set to work planning today’s route on Komoot, checking all the roads on Google Earth, just to make sure that I was keeping us away from main roads and busy junctions, which are not our favourite cycling options.

We could have taken the direct route from Capestang to Beziers, which would have been about 15km, but we would have arrived far too early, so I planned a route that would take us south, to the coast, before turning north again to meet the Canal du Midi, at the flight of locks just outside Beziers, from where, we could cycle into the city for the night’s stop.

Instead of 15km, it meant we would be doing just over 50km, but after the last few days of enjoying cycling around this area, we felt it was a perfect opportunity to see a little more of it.

You can watch a little Video of today’s ride here

Once we had ambled into Capestang to buy breakfast, with bits for a second breakfast, and lunch too, we enjoyed a final hour on the deck of our little narrowboat, watching the larger cruisers and barges make their way along the Canal.

One beautiful boat ‘Molly’ glided past, and we smiled, as we had seen it negotiate the narrow bridge in Le Somail, yesterday, when we had stopped for lunch.

There is something very gentle about watching life pass by on the water, but we couldn’t stay all day, so said goodbye to the friendly cat that had popped back to see us…

And loaded the bikes, before heading out along backroads, away from the town.

As soon as we left the town we were in open countryside, with the sky above the vines filled with bee-eaters calling across the vineyards. It was a wonderful sight, and sound that stopped us in our tracks. Just the first time today that we stopped to listen to the birds, which were singing their hearts out in the warm sunshine.

After Day 2, when I got very wet feet, cycling through a pool of water across the road, I had happily learned my lesson. So today, I played it safe, unclipped my shoes and pulled my feet up in front of me, like I had done as a child. I realised I couldn’t lift my legs anywhere near as high now, but managed to keep them out of the water, and this time made it through, totally dry.

The ride took us along empty roads, and backlanes, wingling our way through pretty villages and beautiful countryside. In my mind, I had imagined that it would be a relatively flat ride, as Capestang is at the head of an old inland salt-lake (long since silted and reclaimed), but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

As we left one little village, the road started to climb, and the gradient monitor on my Garmin (that I am beginning to hate) turned from orange to red, as we climbed a steep lane that kicked up even more at the top, with the indicator gleefully telling me it was 17%. I really didn’t need to know.

But at the top was a ridge, with old windmills built along it, with glorious views south, towards the coast. We may have been puffing a bit, but the view had been worth the climb, which was followed by a wonderful downhill ride too.

We carried on, pedalling under Plane Trees,

and managing to cross the motorway without having to go on a main road, before following a road that started to climb through woodland. We passed lots of large trees that had been pulled from the ground in the storm that swept through the area, a few months ago. They looked as if they had been ripped from the ground and tossed aside, by an angry Giant; trunks snapped, root-balls at right-angles to the ground too. In some places, it was a scene of devastation, and must have been terrifying to witness.

Once we had climbed through the trees, the views opened out before us,

and before long,  we could see the Mediterranean, a pale line in the distance, and soon we were cycling through the marshes, being cheered on by the happy calls of the Zitting Cisitcolas, which seem to love areas like these.

After crossing a bridge, we found a spot by the water, and settled down to make coffee and enjoy our second breakfast, although as it was approaching 1230, we could have easily made it lunch  instead.

From here, we turned back inland, following well-made, safe cycle paths, which form part of the Hérault a Vélo network, away from the coast.

It was a beautiful ride that kept us away from main roads, passing verges filled with flowers. Until we caught sight of Beziers, in the distance.

We stopped at the flight of locks just outside the city, settling down with a sandwich, to watch the steady stream of boats negotiate them. We could hardly believe it, when the first boat we saw, emerge into the basin in front of us, was Molly.

After seeing her at Le Somail, and again this morning, it felt rather apt that we had been here to see her through the last lock. The Canal really is a small world.

We sat watching the boats for over an hour, holding our breath as some didn’t quite get the exit right, hearing the bump, as they hit the wall, and the time slipped past far too easily.

To be honest, that has been one of the big joys of this trip. In the past, we have been up early, out of the door by 8, and have kept stops to a minimum, as we have had long trips ahead. This time we have reduced the distances and incresaed the time we have stopped, and spent time, just enjoying being in the moment and noticing the little things. It will certainly be the pattern for our future trips.

Eventually, we did drag ourselves away, pedalling the last couple of km into Beziers, following the river and crossing the Old Bridge, into the town.

It was only when we got to the old bridge, that we realised our apartment was in the centre of the city, at the top of the hill. So the climbing wasn’t quite done for the day. Nor was it, when we reached the address, as Andy then carried the bikes up three stories of steep french stairs.

After settling in, we went to explore and found a gentle, beautiful and historic city..

With its stunning cathedral

And beautiful views along the river, towards the hills of the  Grands Causses..

And incredible trompe l’oeil paintings on buildings around the narrow streets.

We sat with a beer, to mark the final night away, chatting through this latest adventure, and looking forward to the next.

Tomorrow, we catch an early train to Avignon and then cycle home.

It’s hard to believe that this little adventure is nearly over…