Author Archives: Robkeene

Another warm day greeted us as we left the rather scruffy town of St Jory and crossed the railway onto the canal. As we turned north onto the very smooth cycle path, the brisk wind seemed to stop🤔. We realised that it was unusually right behind us, pushing us home😁😁

We hardly needed any battery help as we wizzed along on the near empty, straight path.

We cycled for an hour and then headed into the town of Grissolles for a coffee. There we met an English couple who had shipped their bikes from their home in Australia and were travelling from Nantes to Girona, in Spain. We had so much in common and shared our experiences for their route ahead. They were envious of our e-bikes as they’d been pushing hard against the strong wind, the same wind that we were enjoying!

We had a pre arranged rendezvous at Bistro Constant, a restaurant we have often enjoyed in Montech.

Trude and Rob have been house sitting and looking after our dogs for the last 19 days, so they brought the dogs to greet us and then join us for the penultimate leg to Moissac!

In front of the « Pente d’eau » A 500 m concrete ramp that these 2 locomotives would pull boats up the canal in a plug of water! It didn’t work very well, so is now a museum!

Rob and Trude relieved us of our luggage so we could fit Huxley’s basket on the bike rack.

Lucky Huxley, but poor Dizzy who had to run the 20 kms to Moissac! Fortunately the canal had easy access for her to keep getting refreshed!

Finally after being away from Borde Neuve for just over 2 years, our faithful and reliable bikes brought us back home having travelled 6,253 kms through 9 countries.

It’s all over; so a big thanks to Rob & Trude, Mum & Dad and Tim and Laura who have all looked after the house and dogs over the last 2 years, while we’ve spent about 100 days pedalling around Europe in 5 stages.

Also a big thanks to Manfred, in Baveria, Gabor in Hungary, Denis and Ger in Slovenia and Valerio in Italy who have looked after our bikes in the meantime.

👍🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

The End!!

We’d enjoyed our quiet stay in the pretty village of Avignonet.

A small building near the church had been empty for 30 years but a French couple had lovingly restored it, making it a perfect place for us.

It was a very short descent to the canal where we rejoined it. This was just after it’s highest point, the watershed at the Seuil de Naurouze. 190 metres above sea level,

Now all the locks were going down, towards the Atlantic which meant that for us, it was downhill too!😁

As Carcassonne was poor for cyclists. Toulouse was excellent. Apart from 3 traffic light road crossings in the centre, it was like a bike motorway through the city along the canal.

Chaotic at times with locals trying to get somewhere fast, mingling with touring cyclists like us, then fast, double battery electric scooters dodging in between everyone at huge speeds, at least 30 kph🫣

For our last night on the trip we’re in the less beautiful suburban town of St Jory.

It’s very pleasant apartment but was a nightmare to book.

Normally Booking .com is pretty straightforward. However, now some owners are insisting on a deposit. This isn’t mentioned on the accommodation policies until you get to the final payment stage; then in small writing it states that a deposit is required directly to the owner.

If you fail to spot this, as I did, then having spent the non refundable fee for the apartment, you’re then sent a request for the deposit to cover any damages etc😡.

They will not send the entry code for the key box until you pay. Then if all is good you’ll receive your deposit back in 7 days😡😡

Rant over, but this is a new thing with Booking.com. Beware to read the small print at the payment stage.

We don’t have to worry about anymore bookings; as we’re back tomorrow in our own bed😁😁🤞

We approached the citadel’s inner gates, just as the hordes of humanity were entering. Fortunately a delivery driver was also escaping, so we closely followed his van, using its bulk to plough a path through the sea of bodies in front of us.

We tried to leave the outer walls of the citadel using a rear entrance, so we followed a couple of horses to where the map indicated it might be. Unfortunately it was via steps, so back we went to the main gate and took one last picture, before descending into the main city itself.

As cities go, Carcassonne is not very bike friendly. They paint a few pictures of cycles on the road where they think cycles should go, then they give up painting when the route gets a bit complicated; so you have to make your own way using maps.

We finally returned to the canal path, which was equally poor.

Fortunately this narrow rutted track became better gravel paths after a couple of kms.

It was sad to see so many Plane trees dying of canker. They lined the canal for most of its journey, but according to a notice board, 35,000 have now gone.

As we left the town we were diverted from the canal as tree felling was occurring ahead. It was good to feel a smooth road beneath our wheels., and much more quiet than gravel.

Only 15 kms more and we arrived at our pretty little cottage under a very unusual church spire. Time for a cuppa and shower.

Another bright day welcomed us although fairly breezy. We were now in the notoriously windy part of France.

We said our farewells to Valerio on this steep hump backed bridge over the canal. This is why he looks even taller than usual!

We then parted company and he headed south to Spain, to do some more cycling near Girona. We then joined the canal path and headed west into the strengthening wind.

We were amazed how many oak trees had been planted either side of the path. All their trucks were painted white to protect them from the intense summer sun. They seem to me to have been planted too close together , so the path will be difficult to maintain in the future🤔

These cuttings often funnelled the strong westerly wind making it hard going at times, even with battery help.

This top lock was open in order to allow 4 waiting boats in. This first boat was really struggling with the wind and ended up broadside to the entrance. Lots of people were watching him getting very stressed! It was SO hilarious to watch; I almost hit a speed deterrence barrier as we slowly cycled by!🤣🤭

We found a little restaurant away from the hordes down a long corridor in a very old room, oozing in character. Sue enjoyed a good steak cooked on the coals in front of us, whilst I had a local speciality of Cassoulet. A stew of sausage and duck, cooked in a heavy bowl with white beans; very tasty.

Whilst munching through this lovely food, a Spanish guitarist sang to us. A perfect evening to end another full day.

We opened the blinds of our room on Narbonne Plage to be greeted by another blue sky and a calm inviting sea.

Fortunately the épicerie next door was open and a very friendly mother/daughter team, prepared us breakfast. They put together a fabulous cholesterol boosting charcuterie platter, suitable for hungry bikers.

We then packed up and started pedalling along the excellent beach path.

It wasn’t long before I felt the need for a dip in the sea, which was surprisingly still quite warm. Only a few kms later we headed north and left the Mediterranean coast for the last time and headed into scrubby countryside.

This Canal is another link from the Med to the Canal du Midi. This canal then enables boats to get to the Atlantique coast across France.

The path was very rough for about 3 kms and at one point it had to be diverted, as it was sliding into the canal!

Valerio needed to return to Sète by train, then drive back to meet us in Le Somail, where we’d booked a 2 bed apartment by the canal.

Day 13 we had marked as a rest day as rain was forecast. We were cosy in our quiet little hillside shed, except the mosquitos seemed to enjoy it there too.

I toured the 150m hill, sitting on a peninsula, that Sète is built upon.

Great views from the top.

Just as I started to return to our cabin, the heavens opened and it rained for 2 hours. We’d booked a boat trip that was then cancelled,due to mauvais temps, so we postponed it until the morning when the sun was due to return.

Day 14.

The sun was once again shining brightly, as we left our little cabin on the hill.

We were booked onto a boat tour around Sète town and it’s 5 km of canals. There were only 4 of us on this little inflatable which could have taken 12.

The tour was a typical one with a recorded commentary which was hardly audible.

The boat captain, then took us under the car and railway lift bridges into the big pond seen in previous photos from yesterday’s trip up the hill.

He told us to hold onto hats, then opened it up… wow!!

We then waited for our friend Valerio, who’d driven through the night from Italy and was on his way to Spain. I suggested he joined us for a couple of days on our journey.

We didn’t get going until 12:30, so we knew we had a long afternoon ahead of us in order to complete 70 kms to get to our next booked apartment.

It was a warm day, but with a wind that was often against us. the route took us along 12km of beach to get to the Agde peninsular, where we stopped for a late lunch

The apartment we had booked was on a huge complex with 259 units on it.

Unfortunately our address was 260😡

We tried to contact the owner, but after an hour of trying via various other friendly locals, we gave up and headed into the centre to find food and somewhere to stay. This was now 20:30 on a Sunday night in France🥴🤭

We ordered food and beer and Valerio finally found a hotel with space. It was 2 km away and the reception was about to close.

Food was put on hold as Valerio and I pedalled furiously to check in, and return before the restaurant closed!

Finally after a night cap we retired to bed at 23:30🥱

A totally different day with much more variety than the previous one in the swamps.

We enjoyed a good breakfast; always a good start!

Then, when ready, we had to lug our bags down only one flight of stairs into the garage below. There was power in the garage so we had not needed to dismount the heavy batteries and charge them in the room, as per usual 👍🏼😁.

As we pushed the bikes out of the garage, we were already on the vélo route. We had a quick ride to the canal and headed to the coastal town of Le Grau-du-Roi.

As we entered the town there were crowds of people about, and loads of roads were closed, with many police on duty. I immediately thought that there was a protest going on; as seems quite common in this country!!

Actually we’d arrived on the town’s boat jousting day!!

There are very simple rules for this sport:

2 different colourful boats charge at each other, whilst various town folk take turns to stand, armed with a lance and a shield, upon the long plank on the stern. Whoever stays on the plank, in the inevitable joust, is the winner! 😁😁

The town had a distinct theme. It seemed as if you’d only get a planning permit if your design was radical and nautical!

Soon after La Grande Motte, we were on a path along a very unspoilt coastline for about 3 kms. There were plenty of free parking spaces and 80 odd access points to the beach. We stopped for a dip; (well, at least I did) and an ice cream!

Much of the latter part of the day’s cycle was along a spit of land between the sea and huge shallow, smelly lagoons. The flamingos loved this!

This was the busiest cycle route we’d had this trip. Sometimes it was quite narrow and very difficult to find a way past other slower path users as you can see. 🤭

We left our apartment at 11:00 having had a muffin breakfast provided by the lovely Olga, our host. We cycled through a few hundred metres of the old town then were almost immediately crossing the Rhone and into the Occitanie region; feeling like we were almost home!!

We were soon onto a cycle path following a Rhone canal to the Mediterranean Sea. All the beautiful mountain view’s and clean air were now out of view behind us and ahead was the Camargue.

After cycling all day across this area I wondered why the Camargue is such an attraction to so many🤔.

Yes, there are lots of white horses, often seen with white egrets, pecking off insects from their backs, but generally it’s fairly boring.

Many kms of straight tracks through the smelly mosquito swamps. Sometimes on potholey gravel paths or following straight canals or ditches. Most of the tracks were surrounded by tall bamboo or elephant grass, so there was only the odd chance to catch a view of the rice paddy fields. For 60kms we only passed through one other town (or even village), St Gilles, located on a canal. Here we enjoyed a good rest and some lunch before heading back into swampland.

Nearing Aigues Mortes we were again following a large canal with several tourist boats.

I had to smile, when we cycled past this one carrying a rack full of bikes promoting cycle holidays!! The passengers were all sitting on deck drinking beer in their cycling gear whilst the boat propelled them along a very good cycling path! 😁🥴

The old town is beind the very large beautiful wall, where we enjoyed some great local Tapas dishes.

Another sunny day greeted us as we rolled our trusty steeds from the inner courtyard of the hotel.

Immediately we were back on the very enjoyable cycle route on the disused railway line, following the Calavon river valley. We passed above the city of Apt with total disregard to the road chaos going on beneath us: Joy😁

It was a pleasure to see how the enormous efforts of previous generations to build these shallow gradient tracks were still being enjoyed by hundreds of other pedal powered vehicles, many years later.

We knew we had a long journey in front of us, but having an exclusive cycle path, that was gentling descending, quickly ate up the kms

The pickers were harvesting them and gave me the biggest Quince I’ve ever seen!

We’ll try it tomorrow for one of our meals !

After 60 kms, Sue was getting hangry, so she needed food quickly! We entered the delightful town of St Rémy de Provence, and although it was 14:30 we found a great little Thai restaurant which was serving food…… just!

This then kept her going the next 16 km until we reached, Taracon, on the Provence side of the Rhone river where we found our booked apartment for the night.

Tarascon is very multi cultural town, and our host was a charming Moldovian lass, who proudly introduced us to our very well equipped abode for the night.

As we were on the edge of the Rhone, I ventured out pedalling through many Burka clad people, to take a look at the castle that was originally built to keep the people of the state of Provence away from the French on the other side.

I suppose, tomorrow we’ll cross the bridge and enter France for real, and our home region of Occitanie.👍🏼

Our bikes were ready and charged in the dungeon of the Grand Hotel, ready for another day of pedalling.

We left the town and for 2.5 km we didn’t need pedals or battery as we had a superb descent into the valley below. Unfortunately, after the recent rain, the nuptial flight of the valley’s flying ant population was occurring.

The ants were around for much of the morning, mostly in the valleys, which were more humid.

We had a good al fresco meal at a Turkish restaurant, surrounded by other Brits. I guess Peter Mayle’s book « A year in Provence » convinced many to move here.

Eating out in the evening seems to have become really expensive in France.

Many restaurants no longer offer a pichet of local wine for a few euros. Instead they want you to pay between €25-30 for a bottle. If you buy by the glass, it costs as much as a bottle in the shops.

We’ve taken to booking apartments, when available. They often cost no more than a hotel room! We then have much more space to spread out our 6 bike bags and have the facilities to heat up some simple food ourselves, and enjoy a bottle of cold rosé costing between €5-10😁👍🏼👍🏼

Now back onto the bikes heading south west towards the Med.