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Published: January 2nd 2012
Leaving Prefailles
...here the big road starts., which started on the date of 11/09/11, barely keeping in itself the smallest part of symbolism.
The first part of the trip is done - by the 29th Sep, we made it to Toulouse. 17 days of biking have taken us through almost 900 km, sliding places and faces some of which will remain in the memory much longer than the others. Now that I'm trying to recall the fragments, let me flashback for a moment.
Day 1, Nort-sur-Erdre – Bouaye , 42.5 km, 3.5 hours Day 2, Bouaye – Prefailles , 54.5 km, 7 hr. Early morning of the 11
th September in Blanchetière - Amandine's Father's house. Woken up and discouraged by the rain. Still not packed. Shambles. Excitement about something we've been waiting for a while mixes up with the confusion whether we should start this something off on such a dreary day. Amandine's mom’s on the phone - are you leaving, shall we come over to see you off?
Yes, you should come over.
Well, at least we're not in a rush,
and looks like this time we don't forget anything. Velo sacks, tent, sleeping bags, food baskets for the first time find their places on the bikes. We don't have that long of a distance to cover on the first day. Sebastian's parents (and Seb is Amandine's stepfather if you don't know)) live in a town of Bouaye, which is just on our way. About 40 kilometers to cover. We're overloaded with books and food, especially a month-reserve of cereals. Apparently, it's just a lack of experience of going on long velo-trips. Thus, all together we comfortably settle down on the terrace, the bikes are nearby. Bread and jam to which an everyday habit gave a proud name of The French Breakfast, done - we're charged.
Petit apero for the parents, and here comes the sweet-touch feeling of anticipated goodbye. All-time FIP Radio music choice puts up the most appropriate soundtrack. And it all ties us up into nuts.
Remember the weight of your bike, Darling, that's the way we used to get by. Re-mastered Spoon songs spin in my head. Should have looked up the chords and lyrics again. Yes, we've taken our travel
guitars. And, no, not every evening, not every morning, but sometimes we'll be happy to have them with us and play together.
The ease and excitement vanish, the other feelings emerge, as we keep pedalling – sometimes with a thought ‘hell knows where’. Sore muscles, and the ass that grows into the bike seat remind - it's not something you're used too. The line between the seat and the ass? Very subtle, indeed. And we keep pedalling. Evening farewell with Mamie Noella and the aunts - Christine and Mymy in Prefailles, and on again. Now that the West Point is reached, we head down South, and from now on it's only Quechua 2-second tent, and a gas stove, old-new bikes and all-same clothes. I tell you what, if you could smell my shirt… Well, I mean I don’t mind myself. After all what is the point to wash it, or change it, if a 30-minute ride gives it a nice stale-sweet-sweat odor, but if you only could…
Day 3, (13/11) Prefailles – Bouin (place that doesn’t really exist…) , 46 km, 4hrs Day 4, Bouin (…untill you get there) – St. Gilles, 62 km, 8 Gâches, the specialty of Vendee
We murdered a kilo in one sitting on a foggy morning in La Tranche-sur-Mer... hrs
Day 5 St. Gilles (amazing waffles with caramel with salt from Guerande) – Longeville, 65 kms Day 6, Longeville – Tranche-sur-Mer – La Rochelle, distance, time unknown The maps of the regions, one by one - Loire-Atlantique, Vendee, Les Landes…
Pornic, Les Sables D'Olonnes, La Tranche-sur-Mer, we flip the places as the Sun sets and continues to the other side of the Atlantic.
La Rochelle.
La Rochelle was special, and Ane Marie made it easy for us to feel welcomed at her place. It was the first point reached, deserving a couple-of-days pause, and the pleasure sleep, on the bed, not in the tent. Even though a bit longer, it was flipped as well.
Day 7, 19/09 La Rochelle – Soubis (where ducks scream all night and don’t let you sleep), distance unknown, 5 hrs, Day 8, Soubis – Vaux-sur-Mer(where we spent 40 eu at a resto, and camped at the private beach) Day 9, Vaux-sur-Mer – Royan(ferry) – Montalivet, 40 kms. Montalivet. Waking before you, Ocean, I've got a fever, and a childish wish for surf. The latter emerges
with the sound, the call, of the gorgeous ones, breaking at sunrise, mesmerizing and tempting. The first, well, by a non-potable water I disregarded, and poured onto freeze-dried coffee powder.
21.09.11 I’m writing right now only for a reason, that having got exhausted, we decided to piss off the imaginary schedule, give it a break, and set the early camp. And another reason – my love is the one to cook soya steaks on hemp oil with 6-cereal mixture on a side this time.
Montellivet, the Sun, the Ocean, and the wind cooling off the feast.
Yesterday brought us up more fun and troubles, prolonged by again-flat , but this time literally blown-up, tire. Sympathy for the rider – we were lucky to meet a local couple, who took us to a bike shop to get a new wheel. Having lost the time, we’ve also missed the last ferry Royan – Le Verdon, across the Garonne delta, but found Vaux-sur-Mer beach town, too small to be on the map we had, but too tempting to pass.
Day 10, 22/09, Montalivet – Lacanau Ocean (this is where the French surf), 62 kms Vaux-sur-Mer
The morning swim. Day 11, Lacanau – Biganos, 68 kms (Bassin d'Arcachon is one the highlights of our trip, if we talk about the landmarks) Day 12, Biganos – Villandraut (another flat tire), 75 kms Day 13, Villandraut – Bazas – Nico, the honey collector, 35 kms Day 14, Grignoles (Nico lives nearby) – Damazan, 55 kms Day 15, 27/09, Damazan – Agen, 40 kms We follow Canal de Garonne, and luckily we invited to have dinner on the boat with Australian travelers. Simple, but just on time when we needed it most.
Getting close to Toulouse. Still, another 100 kilometers, and 2 more days to go. Honestly, every other step in the past few days has been taken with stronger effort and challenge for both of us. One way or another, in the end of day, looking at the burning sun, it feels like only peace remains. Nature remains, as the rest sleeps. Fortunately, a few days back we passed by an apiary, where we met Nico, the honey-collector in his 30s, who without a second thought let us camp in his garden. Besides, the rest, while I was already in bed sleeping my fever
off, Amandine was lucky to try all the exotic-exclusive kinds, and ended up choosing the three. After all, I’m convinced, it’s the natural antibiotic, that helped my healing a lot.
Day 16, Agen (in this city they it prunes like there’s no tomorrow) – Montech, 65 kms Day 17, Montech – (tuh-duh!) Toulouse on the 29/09. Still in Toulouse, the Pink City, and the pink gets sharper, closer to purple in the evenings. The twilight will be guiding you back and forth from Esquirol to Capitole, down the narrow streets to Garonne riverside. Stuck in the moment. The decisive intention to get back on the track tomorrow the 4th, is up in the air as Clemence encouraged us to stay a few more days. Moreover, the plans for Carcassonne are uncertain at the moment, so feels like we can let ourselves unwind and absorb the bright Toulousian sun. Bright, indeed, and we're glad to be back in the summer. Even more, as it has returned so gradually, km by km, C° degree, one by one. Toulouse and the time, to lose the trace of which is too easy with all the music jams, dinners and evening parties, with all the good people we've met. And time will be pushing, if not now then later when we'll be crawling up the Pyrenees, and not sure if it's the bikes or ourselves that will be the mode of transport then...
- Toulouse, October 3
rd 2011
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