Postcards from Provence and beyond

Today was all about slowing down.

I have mentioned before that we had hoped that this trip would be filled with slow days, of simply enjoying the ride, with lots of opportunities to sit on walls, watch the views and potter gently through the beautiful French countryside.

It hasn’t worked out like that, at all.

But today, was an opportunity to just slow down and enjoy the area. We are where we need to be for our trip back to the UK, on Sunday morning, and it was just nice to know that the pressure was off.

You can Watch a little video from today’s ride here

Also, an added benefit was that there were huge thunderstorms nearby, yesterday evening, that cleared the air and meant that today, the tempertaures were a delight. Perhaps for the first time, we would be able to just sit on a wall and look at a view.

Honestly, it’s the little things like this that make us grin, and we’ve really missed them, during the last 11 days of riding across France. But, we always know that there is nothing we can do about the weather!

Having totally messed up our booking for the house we’re staying in, we have to leave tomorrow morning, so decided we’d pedal out to take a look at a couple of the nearby campsites, to find one to stay on, tomorrow night, ahead of pedalling back to Roscoff on Sunday morning to catch the ferry.

But first, we’d start the day, with coffee and breakfast, overlooking the beach at the end of the road. We packed our little bag, with everything we would need, and ambled the 100m, to the bench, overlooking the bay, (which is where I’m sitting, writing this now)

It was peaceful, and utterly idyllic, and having arrived at just after 7, we had the place to ourselves. No early swimmers, no early dog-walkers, in fact just us, and the birds. It was the perfect start to the day.

One coffee turned into two, and we sat just enjoying the peace, watching the tide go out…

leaving boats high and dry on the sand.

Our little breakfast stop lasted a little over 2 hours, and set the scene for the day.

I had planned a short cycle route that would allow us to check out the 2 closest sites, before we would ride across the headland and along the coast, into Roscoff for lunch.

Roscoff is one of those places that we have always been eager to leave behind (when we’ve got off the ferry at the start of a holiday, wanting to head south), or that has always been tainted with having to return to work, after a delightful time, on holiday in France.

Today, it would simply be part of a ride, and that felt so much better, as it is probably the prettiest of all the ferry ports in France.

We finally got our act into gear, and pedalled out. The first camp-site was nestled in the dunes, but was busy and didn’t strike us as the sort of place, we would enjoy spending our last night.

We found the second, and the moment we arrived, we knew it would be perfect. Just outside a village, it was a quiet little site, and it ticked all our boxes, so we made a reservation, whilst we were there.

Somehow, I also ended up translating and taking a booking for another couple, over the phone for the chap behind the desk. After finalising all the details for this booking for him, he pointed out what we felt would have been the perfect pitch for us (under trees, with a view of the sea), marking it as ours for tomorrow night. We couldn’t have been happier.

From there, we pedalled back towards Roscoff, following empty back lanes, and tracks.

We passed a stunning water mill, with spectacular, dark pink hydrangeas

And said hello to some rather hot, black sheep too.

It was a beautiful ride, through fields of sand, prepared for the production of carrots (sand carrots are incredible), and vast fields of shallots, and cabbages too

At every turn, there were stunning views out to sea, and the scent of sea-salted air was constantly in our noses.

It wasn’t a long ride today, but it wasn’t a fast one either, as we kept stopping to admire the views, and simply enjoy the sights and smells that we have always left behind, so quickly, before.

We were then stopped in our tracks, by the sight of a field filled with the vibrant colours of cornflowers, poppies and marigolds. It was a spectacular sight, and we both stood in the gateway mesmerised by the carpet of colour that was filled with the buzz and chatter of insects.

Simply stunning, there are no other words for it.

Then we were pedalling along the coast road, towards Roscoff.

It literally runs along the edge of the beach, with the water in the channel glinting in the sun, and the tang of salt in the air. A truly beautiful part of the ride.

Before long, we were parking the bikes in Roscoff, and we took a walk along the harbour wall. Here, we really slowed down, and took the time to enjoy the views across the water.

Under the blue sky, the sea was shades of turquoise, blue and purple, with the rocky islands looking as if they had been placed by a designer, seeking the best effect.

We watched as yachts dapped up and down the deeper channel, and lost track of the minutes, as they slipped easily by.

It’s always sad, coming to the end of a trip. But this has really just been part 1 of a 2 part adventure, and we sat on the steps at the end of the harbour, starting to plan part 2.

It won’t be until the latter part of August, after our summer of events (with my small upcycled silver business that I still have in the UK), but as we have pedalled from Provence, we will have to pedal back again. So we need to start thinking about the route.

In fact, it’s a great distraction from the end of this ride, and by the time we climbed up off the steps, we had the basic plan in our minds. But more of that, in the coming weeks.

By now, it was well after midday, and our stomachs were protesting, so for only the second time, this holiday, we found a restaurant and enjoyed a lunch out. Andy devouring a huge pot of Moules, which he loves (and I can’t eat). He tells me they were delicious.

We finally dragged ourselves away, and hopped back on the bikes, pedalling back towards the house, distracted again by the view from the coast road.

We pulled over, sat on the wall, and watched the tide marching its way back in again. Dogs chased seagulls; seagulls scavenged amongst the seaweed; boats that were high and dry when we arrived, started to float on the turning tide.

We didn’t move for over an hour, just absorbed by the view, and feeling the anxieties that have sat on our shoulders, over the last couple of weeks, slip gently into the sand.

It was nature doing what nature does, and it was exactly what we needed.

After discovering the little beach, and enjoying a swim, yesterday, I was determined to do the same today. So we pulled ourselves away from the view, and pedalled back to the house. Within minutes, the washing was on, we were changed, and we were wading into the sea.

It’s been a superbly gentle day. We may only have pedalled 30km, but we have slowed down and enjoyed every minute. The only stress we had was what we would have for supper.

But at least shops were open, and we didn’t have to resort to a baguette doused in balsamic vinegar again!

So, we’ll enjoy this evening. Typing this, sitting by the sea, reminds me of the places that I sat, writing blogs during our 6 weeks in Japan, last October. It’s a gentle way to end the day, with a beautiful view, and I’m sure we’ll be back.

Tomorrow will be the last day of Part 1 of our summer cycling adventure, and we’ll cycle the short distance to set up the tent, before we take a ride out along the coast, to explore a little further.

I can’t think of a better way to spend our last day, before I change my head for summer event-mode.