Postcards from Provence and beyond

It’s been a busy time back in Devon, and it’s hard to believe that 8 weeks have passed so quickly. Yesterday we finished our last Fair of the summer, knowing that we would be leaving this morning, to start our cycle ride home, to Provence.

Of course, our last event was the furthest away, and after a 4.30am start to set up, we arrived home, happy but weary, as the church bells chimed 7, and immediately started packing away everything to do with work, before turning our minds to the ride home.

By 10pm, everything was away, we’d managed to eat supper and glug a glass (or 2) of wine, and the panniers were packed, closed and ready to be loaded onto the bikes today. We collapsed into bed, tired but excited too, as finally we were about to start our next little cycling adventure, and would be making our way home.

We had thought we would aim to set off about 8, to arrive in Exeter in plenty of time to catch the train at just before 10. But as always, our eagerness took over and by just before 7, we were dressed, the bikes were loaded with the bags, and we were ready to go.

As we wheeled the bikes onto the road, the church bells chimed 7, mirroring yesterday evening’s arrival home. There’s something exciting about having such a quick change-around.

After yesterday’s event, our throats were sore, and our lungs felt half-full of the fine dust that had filled the marquee, as the visitors to the show walked across the dry ground, so we wheezed a little, as we started the climb out of the little village of East Budleigh, up onto Woodbury Common.

It’s always a bit of a pull, and apart from the final climb up to our little hamlet, when we arrive home, it’s the steepest gradient of the whole, planned ride. But with slightly malfunctioning lungs, and the bikes fully loaded, it definitely blew any cobwebs away, from the day before.

After a little overnight rain (finally), the scents sat low to the ground and the bracken glowed orange, as we crested the hill and started to head down, towards Exeter.

It’s always a lovely ride into the city, following back lanes, through beautiful Devon countryside, with glorious views across the Exe Estuary, towards Dartmoor. Within minutes, we got used to the new weight and different handling of the bikes, and felt the tiredness slip from our shoulders, as we settled into turning the pedals.

Having set off early, we had built in plenty of time for breakfast, at a favourite café on Exeter Quay, so enjoyed the ride along the canal, watching the swans and their cygnets enjoying the early-morning peace. It was a stunning morning and proved to be the perfect reminder of why we love to travel by bike.

Our toes and fingers may have been chilly, but after cycling through France in the heatwave, when we rode from home 8 weeks ago, this was a joy, and we felt our lungs starting to clear a little more, with every turn of the pedal.

Breakfast was just as nice as we had hoped it would be, and by 9, we were pedalling along the Exe, to the station, where we would (hopefully) catch the train.

Last year, we had a nightmare; when we arrived at the station, we found that our train had been cancelled. As we were on a tight timescale to get to Portsmouth, in time to catch the ferry, we ended up doing a mad dash across country, changing trains, running between platforms and cramming us and the bikes onto already overloaded carriages.This blog from last year explains the madness of that day!

We had such negative memories of it, that we were a bit quiet and contemplative, as we arrived at the station. Luckily, today’s train was showing on time, and the lifts were working too, so we didn’t have to carry our bikes up and down steps, which is never fun.

So far, so good. The train arrived and we were the only 2 bikes getting into the carriage, so it boded well, until we found that one of the bike storage compartments was full of luggage, and the empty one was out of order, as the securing hooks were broken.

We did what we could to push the bikes into the space, only to be told by the guard that unless they were properly secured, then we wouldn’t be able to travel beyond the next station.

We had no choice but to move the luggage that had been left in the space, onto racks and then try to get the bikes in place. We couldn’t face being removed from the train, especially as we had booked the spaces, and it wasn’t our fault that the hooks were unusable and that someone had filled a compartment with bags.

So after a bit of heaving and a few choice words, we moved everything and hoisted the bikes into place, standing with them, until we reached Plymouth.

So the first part of the journey was complete. We had reached the city, with the bikes, and all the luggage, so bought lunch and pedalled through the city centre, along the newly redesigned Armada Way, which has really improved the area

And up onto The Hoe, where we finally sat on a bench, and started to believe that we would be on the ferry, and will be arriving in France tonight.

We sat and watched the sea, with the boats dapping about the harbour, before we could see the ferry on its final approach into Port.

As I type this, we are sitting on board and are about an hour into the crossing, the coast of Devon already fading to a smudge on the horizon.

It’s been an easy first day, but it’s been perfect, as after a busy last week and an especially long day yesterday, it has eased us into the ride ( and given us a chance to start clearing our lungs too)

All being well, we will be in Roscoff just before 10, tonight, although I have a feeling it won’t be the most peaceful of arrivals, as its the Onion Festival in the old town, which I’m sure will add a little chaos and a smidge of fun to our arrival back in France too.

You can watch A video from Day 1 here

Tomorrow, another mix of cycling and trains, as we head from Roscoff to the Marais Breton, via Nantes. But the adventure has started.

We hope you will enjoy it.