As I begin to type this post, we’re on a train. Unfortunately not the train heading to Toulouse that we should be on, but a train heading back to Cavaillon so we can cycle home.
Writing this will stop me wanting to cry and scream into the void, at the same time.
The plan for today was simple. It’s the start of our summer, cycling adventure, with a rugby Final in Toulouse to enjoy too. It should have been the perfect start to a gentle few weeks pedalling through France, back to Roscoff, either directly after the match (if we win), or spending the next week pedalling back to Aix for the Access Match, before then heading up to Roscoff.
Today was planned as a cycle through the valley from home to Avignon, the train to Marseille, and another to Toulouse, where we had booked an apartment to enjoy the time in the city, before pedalling out and off on the adventure, we had in our minds:
It all started so well. Last night’s heavy rain had gone through, and we had the perfect morning for the ride along the Veloroute, at the start of our long day of travelling. The sunrise made the valley glow and the cloud catching on the crest of the Luberon looked beautiful too.
The birds were singing, the air was filled with the scent of wild flowers and herbs, and we were simply enjoying the feeling of starting a new adventure.
After the unceremonious end to our last trip, when Andy’s tyre totally split, going over roads that had more potholes than surface, I had even found a new route through to Caumont, where we pick up another back road into Avignon.
That was a perfect route, along quiet roads, with a few bumpy surfaces, but no wheel-killing holes, and we reached Avignon early, so even had time for coffee.
We managed to stow the bikes easily on the train (another thing we stress about), and settled back to enjoy the trip to Marseille, chatting about what we would do in Toulouse, this evening.
At Marseille, we had a couple of hours to wait, before catching our Intercity train to Toulouse, so we sat in the sun, out of the wind and indulged in a spot of people-watching. It was all wonderfully relaxed, clearly too relaxed.
As we were sitting, enjoying the world pass by, the Universe Gremlins were conspiring against us, and within minutes, the day turned on its head.
As I waited for the platform to be announced, I noticed an update on a lower screen. There had been an accident on a level-crossing, between Toulouse and Carcassonne and the line had been closed. There would be delays.
A delay is OK, we said to ourselves. We’ll just chill out at the station, grab something to eat and wait for the train, even if we don’t arrive in Toulouse until midnight, it really doesn’t matter. The main thing is we’ll be there for the rugby.
The minutes passed, Andy’s app showed there would be a 20min delay, that’s OK, that’s not even worth worrying about.
Then without warning, the screen flashed that the train had been cancelled. I can’t even start to explain how we felt. We knew that this was the only option we had, to get us and most importantly, the bikes, to Toulouse. The other trains had all been fully booked for bikes, and this one had been the only option.
In that one word ‘Cancelled’, the scant plans we had made for our summer cycle adventure, disappeared in a puff of smoke. Everything was up in the air, the rugby, our onward journey, our pedal back to the UK. We couldn’t believe it.
The only certainty was that we wouldn’t be getting to Toulouse for the night, and we would have to make some decisions on what to do and quickly!
A quick look showed we couldn’t get a train to Nimes in time for us to catch a train that would get us as far as Carcassonne. So the only option we had was to head home and regroup.
We managed to book tickets for us an the bikes onto a train, back to Cavaillon that would leave in 15 mins, which was a start, but it would mean we still had to decide what to do then.
To say we were devastated, is an understatement, and even my usually annoyingly positive mood turned grey, as we boarded the train, lifting our bikes into place, and sank into a seat.
The journey back to Cavaillon passed, with us staring glumly out of the window, chatting about what we could do.
By the time we pulled into the station, the first part of the plan was set. We would still go to the rugby, but would get up in the early hours and drive. Not what we wanted at all, but if we want to watch the match, that is the only option now.
At least, by the time we reached Cavaillon, we had decided that much, although our mood hadn’t lifted at all. It was compounded by finding that one of the lifts was out of order, so we had to lift all the bags off the bikes, to carry them down the steps instead.
Then, all that was left was to pedal back along the Veloroute, through the valley and home. Normally, it’s a ride that we love, but we hadn’t expected to be doing it, quite so quickly. Even the views looked a little grey.
We pulled into the drive at just before 8pm. We were exhausted, drained and hungry, having cycled nearly 110km, with fully loaded bikes. Something we had decided we wouldn’t do again. But we’d had no choice.
Of course, we had cleared the fridge of food, before we had left in the morning, thinking we may not be back until September, so made a scratch supper, which we devoured without even tasting it.
We threw some clothes into a bag, and dragged our weary bodies upstairs, falling into a dead sleep at just after 9pm.
So although this blog may have been started, when we were on the train, I’m finishing it, as we drive to Toulouse.
We woke with the alarm at 3am, and all being well, will be in Toulouse by 8am, so we can spend the day exploring and doing everything we had been looking forward to, before we watch the rugby tonight.
We’ll travel home tomorrow and then decide what the rest of the adventure will look like.
After yesterday, we need to let our disappointment settle, before we make any more decisions, especially any that involve getting somewhere by train.
But for now. Toulouse, here we come and Allez Les Noirs! Let’s see where life takes us next.
Postcards from Provence and beyond 