We woke this morning, just a little bit anxious about the day ahead, as we would have to get us and our fully loaded bikes, on 2 trains, before cycling into Brittany.
We’re always at our happiest when we’re pedalling the bikes, as we’re totally in control of everything, and can adapt to anything that happens.
We’re probably at our least comfortable when we know trains are involved, as our experiences have always been a bit hit and miss, and this whole adventure had been changed due to a cancelled train, when we were trying to get to Toulouse.
Add in having to change trains as well, and make sure we have all the right coupons for the bikes, with the right providers, then it is enough to bring on palpitations:
But we knew that we were doing the right thing, taking the train north to reduce the amount of kilometres we would have to pedal in this unprecedented heatwave. We were even more certain, when it was predicted temperatures in Nantes could reach 48 degrees today. Anything above body temperature is uncomfortable, that would be unbearable.
We pedalled to the station in Angers, and waited for the first train to be announced, wheeling our bikes onto the platform up a ramp, which made a nice change to the contortions we usually find ourselves doing to fit us and fully loaded bikes in the tiny lifts.
The first issue of the day was that the train we were taking was in 2 halves and would split to go in different directions at the next station down the line. But a lovely station manager pointed us in the right direction, after checking we had bought coupons for the bikes to go on the train. I felt rather happy with myself for having persevered when we had the problems with the booking system.
The train pulled in and we joined the scrum to get onboard, lifting our bikes into the available spaces and collapsing onto the seats opposite, we checked the display and we were on the part of the train destined for Rennes, so we could finally take a breath. The first leg was underway.
We pottered through the countryside watching the red roofs being replaced by black ones, and having a sense that we had moved areas.
Arriving in Rennes, we had over an hour until our connection to Saint Brieuc, so pedalled into the city centre for coffee and a cinnamon roll at the superb Café Joyeux. This is a fantastic social enterprise that supports people with mental and cognitive disabilities to run the cafés.
After buying some extra coffee for our daily little stops, we pedalled back to the station to ready ourselves for the next stage.
This was a little easier as the train started at Rennes, so we had plenty of time to get us and the bikes onboard, although lifting them up the 2 steps in the carriage, to the bike spaces wasn’t quite as simple.
But the main thing was, we were on again, the guard was happy we had all the right tickets and coupons, so we could finally breathe, enjoy the air conditioning, and get ready for today’s relatively short ride from Saint Brieuc to Chatelaudren, where we had spotted a camp site for the night.
We changed into cycle kit on the train, and set off, as soon as we arrived, pedalling out of Saint Brieuc in the fierce late morning heat.
We knew we would have to go up some hills, but with one of the first being a climb of between 8 and 12%, we were soon longing for the gentle roads along the Loire.
But soon, we were on top and enjoyed a delightful pedal, through pretty Brittany villages
Shocked to see the wilting hydrangeas that were really struggling in the furnace-like temperatures of the canicule.
It was only a 20km ride, but in the late morning heat, it quickly drained our legs and we arrived at the site, looking forward to a cold shower.
The site is accessed by a barrier, where you pay for the stay, and it generates a code to give access to the showers. We rode up, pressed the button and nothing happened. We tried again, still nothing. It wouldn’t recognise that we were on bikes, and we could do nothing to register our arrival, to make the machine work.
By now, we were frying in the early afternoon sun, so I called the assistance, and explained the problem, only to be told that I needed to call the Mairie.
I called the Mairie and spoke to a very lively member of staff, who in turn handed me over to someone else, so I explained again. She said she couldn’t resolve it over the phone, but would send someone down to help, and that we should start setting up the tent.
Hopefully they would be able to help, as we really needed the code for the shower!
A few minutes later, a police car arrived and a local officer came to help us get into the site. She tried the process and couldn’t do it either, so suggested she would drive towards the barrier to see if that would help.
Happily, it did, so she left her car in place, whilst I went through the booking system, not leaving until I had the priceless code for the shower in my hand.
It was so kind of them to send someone out to help like this, I can just imagine what the police response would have been in England, to a request to help a cycle tourist get into a camp site!
The main thing was that we were in. Unfortunately our dream of a cold shower was shattered, when we found there was no way to reduce the water temperature, so we both came out of the showers clean, but almost more sweaty than when we went in.
We popped into town and had a beer, aiming to buy bits for supper, only to find that the single grocery store (for miles) was closed this week.
So we bought a quiche and a loaf of bread from the boulangerie, and have spent the evening in chairs, by the little lake, eating the bread moistened with balsamic vinegar, and drinking water.
It’s a beautiful little town, and the lake is a haven for dragonflies and we’ve spotted a kingfisher too.
The tent is now in the shade, so hopefully will be cool enough to sleep in tonight. But we’ll be up early to pedal on again.
We’ve set a route for Carantec, near Roscoff. It’s a long ride, but if possible we would love to stay at the camp site we stayed on with our eldest son, when he was just 6 weeks old. It’s still there, almost 28 years to the day since we first stayed there, so it would be rather lovely to return.
Let’s see how tomorrow goes.
Postcards from Provence and beyond 