Headed Home

The logistics of departure went smoothly to plan.

pre dawn wake up
carry of bicycle boxes 5 blocks through empty, dark, (and thankfully dry) streets
coffee at train station
easy to locate and on time train to Marseilles airport
convenient shuttle bus from train to airport
friendly chat with fellow Americans in the terminal
sleep on flight to Paris
make connection
bicycles arrived undamaged

Avignon; Packing up the Bikes

We had two objectives for the day: visit the Papal palace and pack up the bikes.  The inside of the palace was interesting enough and was one of the few places we visited with descriptions in English. 
We found out that palace was added onto by 5 popes that lived there and at one point the palace was attacked.  Like all of the castles, it was quite fortified. 

After lunch, Anna and Sasha headed out on their bicycles to see sights across the river.  Patrick packed up our bicycles in the hallway of the hotel while I wandered the crowded Saturday shopping streets window shopping and people watching.  The highlight of my wander was hearing church bells ring to celebrate a wedding.  I stopped in the river of shoppers to listen to the loud, melodious peals and I was determined to stand there until they stopped ringing.  I stood for quite some time. 

Later, we made our way to the park by the palace so I could show Patrick these little pedal horses for rent.  I thought they were just adorable.

View of the palace from the park.

My last pastry in France.

We enjoyed dinner at a busy cafe which specialized in open face sandwiches.  Mine had anchovies on tomato with white onion, capers, and lemon.  Tasty.

Top food of the day: fruit tart

Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer to Avignon; Into the Wind

We got up early to visit the gypsy church in Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer.  It's unusual in that it has the look of a thick walled fortress to it, even though it is in town.  There is a very nice display inside of the statues of patron saints which are carried in parades during the festival.  Also a collection of ex votos and shine with candles burning. Most interesting was that the relics are stored high above the sanctuary in a painted box which is lowered down for the festival each year.  You can read about it the town and church here.   http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer.  The church evoked the same wild feeling as the wind for me.  Fascinating place. 

When we looked for coffee, we found the market.  This one was less colorful than ones we had seen previously.  Used clothing, spices, sausages, olives, vegetables, salt and things of that nature were for sale. Anna sent Sasha out to buy sausage and he bought donkey sausage.  He had good intentions, but Anna was not about to eat donkey.

No surprise that the cycling drama today was headwind.  It got started later than I expected which was nice as we were afforded some peaceful time to take in the views of the Camargue. 

We ate a picnic lunch by the river Arles, then checked out this massive church and Roman ruins there.  A gypsy busker sang in Spanish and was worth listening to.

In Roman times, this amphitheater was used for gladiator fights, now it's used for bullfights. 

We had one misrouting today with the GPS and when Patrick tried a very rural byroad to try to get back to the pavement, he heard shots.  Not sure if someone was shooting at him or not, but we took the long way back from where we had come from.  We saw a massive castle when we passed through Terascon, and other one right across the river.  It is fun to think of what life was like here in medieval times.  One last diversion on our ride back to Avignon was a brief detour to a village which had a sign out about a festival.  No festival going on yet, but we did make our way up up up though narrow cobbled streets to check out some ruins.

It was easy enough to get back into Avignon even with rush hour traffic.  At this point, we split with Anna and Sasha as we had booked separate hotels near the different train stations that we planned to leave from.   After checking in, Patrick and I headed back out to the bike shop.  When we passed though before I had asked if they could pack our bicycles for us.  They said no but agreed to hold two bike boxes for us.  Maybe there was some misunderstanding between me and the mechanic regarding this or maybe he just didn't want to do us the favor.  In any case, he held one box for us - and we needed two.  This is how we came to carry one standard size box and one oversized box for an electronic bike about 1.5 k to a hardware store and then another k to the hotel.  Patrick had the large box and it was quiet awkward to carry in the wind.  It kept hitting the ground and I wondered just how many times it could hit the ground and still hold up to the rigors of air travel.  We had been hoping to spend the evening out with our friends but instead went for a late dinner after Patrick spent two hours cutting down the large box.

We had a nice dinner at a place which serves thinly cut raw meat which you cook at the table on a hot stone.  Patrick ordered duck to eat like that.  I ordered steak tartare.  I didn't know what it was - now I know - raw meat and a lot of it.  I had to laugh to think that is what I ended up eating without Anna to translate the menu for me. 

We saw another side of Avignon in the night than we had seen on our previous visit.  A dirty homeless man pulled a cartful of belonging by our table on a side street.  We passed a teenage girl in a drugged state by the McDonalds and a dirty man on the street surrounded by five dogs.  Other homeless people rattled the dumpsters and threw items into large duffel bags.  It seemed like the underside of the city was showing itself. Club music played late into the night and even the earplugs couldn't keep it out. (this was the one loud place we stayed the whole trip, and it was the sacrifice that had to be made to be close to the train station).

Top food of the day: raw meat

near Terascon to Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer; wild ride in the Camargue

Sasha hoped to see a certain species of bird in this area and, while we didn't see it, I had fun looking for it.  Heading down country roads and keeping an eye out for birds made for a pleasant morning.  It would have been very low key had it not been for the wind.  We encountered the Mistral and heading any direction other than south was quite challenging.  As you can see by the map, we had a solid tailwind most of the day.  When we gave up on finding the grouse in the fields, we headed towards the Camargue for more bird watching, this time for the famous flamingos.  That is a wild place.  The landscape is flat and treeless and the wind is strong.  Views of tall grasses rippling in the wind and  water predominated.  There wasn't much traffic at all on the road we took. 

When we reached the south of the park, we turned onto a dirt road that is closed to traffic. Even though the road is only about 10 miles long, I felt like we were really braving the elements.  At times we could see the white shimmer of salt in the distance.  We also glimpsed numerous kites in the distance from people kite sailing on the sea.  This road is a great place for bicycle meditation.  The wind blows thoughts right out of your head.  I found the surface of the paniers could be used as a rough sail to push the bike perpendicular to the wind. 

The feeling of wildness intensified when we reached dunes near the coast.  Sand had blown over the road which provided a diversion from wind riding.  It was fun to ride through the patches of sand with the challenge of holding the bike up.  After 3 or 4 ride-able patches, we reached this deep one.  I think that Patrick hid behind a dune to wait for Anna and Sasha to see what action shots could be had. 

Here is a view of the flamingos from the dirt road.  A woman was watching them with her fingers in her ears to block out the wind.

After our afternoon out in the wild, it seemed bizarre to return to civilization this way.  A long row of white campers lined the beach on the section of road that led to town. 

I was surprised at just how touristy Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer was.  Anna noted that it was a blue collar type of tourist that goes there on holiday.  It seemed to me like quite an odd place for a beach holiday.  We did enjoy our meal at a busy seafood restaurant where this pot of mussels was a big hit for Sasha and Patrick.  The remainder of our evening entertainment consisted in strategizing , joking about, and placing bets on how/ how long to get a waiter to refill our bottle of water.  Answer, all evening. 

Top food of the day: mussels

Avignon to near Terascon; we visit St Remy de Provence

I was happy with our hotel south of the walled city of Avignon.  We patronized a bakery and local bar (yes, in France you get morning expresso at establishments called bars) in the morning and got right out of town en route to the market at St Remy de Provence.  The bamboo we passed on the way reminded me of a road in Puerto Rico.  Before long, we hooked up with yet another marked cycling route and it was easy pedaling.   I laughed at this road sign which I interpreted in Spanglish as Route of More Belly; an apt name for the French portion of this trip. 

Too bad we didn't have a few more days on the trip, as we could have returned to see running of the bulls on the weekend.

We did get to see the market, which was packed with tourists, but was so incredible that  I was willing to consider the tour buses as a minor annoyance, after all I was mobile on foot, they were jammed in the parking lot traffic of the one street that passes through town.  We didn't expect to eat paella in France, this was the best we have had. 

The worst thing about the bike touring is that you really can't go nuts buying things like these bowls.  What color!

I did allow myself to buy a shirt and some jewelry.  

A variety of olives for sale at this table.

The market continued onto side streets and small plazas with a solid variety of buskers which gave the streets a festive mood. This is a great place.    I poked around a bit on the side streets and found

 a gallery featuring this work

http://www.kamilvojnar.com/

A sign in there said "Disturb the comfortable, comfort the disturbed."  Take a look at the images and you'll get the idea. Wonderful stuff.  

 After our glorious wander through the market, we headed to the hills for some glorious riding. Blue sky, smooth pavement, white rock, and green shrubs.  The climb to this viewpoint was heavenly.  I'd be thrilled to ride repeats of this climb for eternity.  It was tempting to take a long wander on the trails in the park, but given the sightseeing obligations we pressed on. 

Our destination was the fort in this picture at Les Baux.  Heading through narrow streets lined with souvenir shops to reach ruins typically isn't Patrick's idea of a grand old time.  He stayed to watch the gear on the bicycles and the rest of us headed up to explore the fort.  This turned out to be a serious strategic error which I advise cycling couples to avoid.  The fort was so scenic and so engrossing that we stayed up there a good long while.  When we returned Patrick was resentful that he didn't visit the fort.  He didn't want to risk riding in the dark to take more time there for a quick visit.  On the positive side, he did meet other cyclists in the bike parking area.  One man told him about a trip he had made in Tuscany (Patrick said it sounds so hilly that he's not sure it would make for a pleasant vacation).  He met a woman who was on an organized trip where clients ride on a barge down the Rhone during night and explore France by bicycle during the day. 

In addition to nice views of the surrounding countryside and interesting scenes of ruins, the fort had a great deal of educational information regarding life in the fort in its heyday (this is how we came to get sucked in there for so long).  There was also a collection of functional medieval weapons on display there.    I found the trebuchet most interesting.

This view is from the chapel in the fort.  

When we discussed who would watch the gear, Patrick mentioned that he would rather visit a quarry we had passed than the fort.  So, we next went to the quarry.   http://www.carrieres-lumieres.com/en/home  There is a show of art from Provence artists projected on the giant stone walls and floor and set to music.  It's pretty neat, definitely a fun way to experience these painting.  Patrick said the visit was his favorite part of the trip.

We stayed at a really cute B and B, but when we went out for dinner we found there was none to be had.  One of the restaurants in town was permanently closed, the other was just closed.  I had eaten all of the food we carried from the market in the afternoon and everyone else was ravenous.  General crankiness made for a low point on the trip.  There was really no option but to make an excursion by bicycle in the dark to Terascon.  As previously mentioned, Patrick didn't bring a headlight.  We found that Sasha's headlight wasn't working and I think either Anna or Sasha had a non functional rear light.  In any case, we were not well equipped for night riding on the highway.  Fortunately there was not much traffic and the road was a good surface.  We made a tight little parade to take advantage of the lights we did have.  Patrick said that one of us nearly go creamed by a semi when we went through a roundabout on the return trip.  I'd like to think it wasn't really so close. 

We were thrilled to find an open restaurant in Terascon when we arrived at about 9:30.  That the staff did not speak English and we didn't speak French was a minor inconvenience.  In fact, the waitress was Spanish so I got to practice my language skills translating her description of the daily menu to the others.  This is how I came to be in the situation of trying my best to hold a straight face while extolling the virtues of "head of the cow" to my friends whom I was pretty sure were going to eat whatever else the other option turned out to be.   Sure enough, I was the only one that tried tête de veau.  It sounds definitely more fancy when you say it in French.  Delicious.


Top food of the day: paella

Crestet to Avignon; enchanted evening

 It was a joy to get on the bicycle again in the morning and head out for more exploration. First stop was the old town of Crestet and a climb through the village to yet another ruined castle with a great view of the surrounding area.  As you can see, these perched villages are best explored in something besides cycling shoes.

After the scenic tour of the very quiet village, we saddled up again and headed a few kilometers down the road to Vaison-La-Romaine, which was absolutely crawling with tourists on market day.  This town featured a Roman bridge, several interesting art galleries, and a maze of cobbled streets on which one could climb up to yet more ruins.  It definitely had the feel of a stop on the tourist trail.  I was happy to head out again onto a back road through scrub oak and past a quarry.  The marked cycling route was quite pleasant and completely free of traffic. 

We rode around one small town looking for a picnic spot and saw these children cycling on a path in their schoolyard.

I don't know what people in these small towns think of cycling tourists.  A young boy popped his head out of a passing vehicle to greet us with a "cheery bon appetite" while we enjoyed our picnic.  After lunch, we pedaled on to Châteauneuf-du-Pape, wine country.  Anna wanted to buy a bottle for her parents, so we had a stop at a vineyard for that, I can't imagine picking up a bottle of wine to haul for four more days, but I saw the bottle go in her bag, so I assume it was hauled. 

Maybe Anna, Sasha, and I were feeling heavy legs from our wanders in the perched villages, maybe the wine was slowing Anna down.  In any case, Patrick seemed more motivated on forward progress than any of us and as a result pulled about 50 miles today.  This is notable.  I saw a cycling enthusiast side to Patrick which I had never before seen in our nearly ten year relationship.  On this note (and sorry for the spoiler), Patrick signed up without any prodding or suggestion whatsoever for a 110 mile ride the weekend we got back from this trip.  I have to say that for building fitness and confidence, sightseeing by bicycle cannot be beat. 

Patrick's pull took us past a real cool hilltop fort.  Sorry to say we have no pictures of it as he was on a mission to reach the hotel and I had a only a brief jaw-dropping view of it from the saddle before plunging into traffic.  I thought that the fort was Avignon but it is actually across the river from the city.  You can see how cool it is on wikipedia.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Saint-Andr%C3%A9_%28Villeneuve-l%C3%A8s-Avignon%29

We crossed the Rhone into Avignon on a highway bridge with a nice view of the famous bridge of Avignon.  Once across the bridge we entered the walled city of Avignon, a mainly pedestrian area with cobbled streets and bustling business. After the afternoon of countryside riding, I found the city to be disorienting.  Fortunately, Patrick was focused and got us to the tourist office, to the bike shop, and then the hotel on the other side of town.  Our hotel was outside of the walled city, past the train station.  At first the neighborhood seemed a bit sketchy to me, but I came to really like the place.  The man at the front desk was incredibly gracious and gave us good advice on the sights of the town.  After a rest, we washed up and headed into town on foot.  I found the city absolutely enchanting. We first wandered down an old street which appeared over the course of perhaps a quarter mile to be all at once in decay, in renewal, colorless, pocketed with secret theaters and clubs, and sprayed with paint and hidden portraits.  This interesting area was vacant, and had a few signs with information on historic sights.  From there we passed high end shops and meandered to a plaza with hundreds of tables and signs of tourist food.  Patrick laughed to see that one restaurant had arranged chairs facing outwards to allow patrons to shamelessly people watch while enjoying a drink.   We continued  past the tourists, on to the Papal palace.  This building is spectacularly large, and stone.  The extensive plaza in front of it was empty, and drenched in evening light.

We enjoyed the scene, then headed to this overlook near the palace and up to a lovely garden park above the palace for a view of the river and the Fort Saint Andre.  Sunset was wonderful there and I'm glad we had some time to savor it. 

Nice view of Mont Ventoux from the park.

Quiet weeknight street in Avignon.

After dinner, we made our way back to the hotel following the previously mentioned path in reverse.  I was really impressed by this elegant ice cream shop on the corner of a main plaza.  The storefront is very simple.  It's shiny black with the name Glacier Royal printed in silver.  The shop has doors on two walls and my memory is that the doors are either very wide or framed by glass as the shop has the appearance of open to the street.  At each door is a black sign with silver lettering which lists the 52 flavors of homemade ice cream in French and English and the price for one, two, or three scoops - illustrated by drawings in white print of ice cream cones.  This is the view of the shop interior.  One clerk, no tables, a lot of visually appealing ice cream. 

Top food of the day: picnic sandwiches (baguette, cheese, tomato, ham) 

Sault to Crestet; Mont Ventoux

The cycling shop in Sault was a blessing.  It was well equipped and the owner spoke English.  Anna was able to replace her wheel, which  allowed us to tackle the climb on Mont Ventoux.  Sasha got an hour head start while Anna, Patrick, and I enjoyed the view of the valley while sipping coffee on a patio.  Patrick and I had been joking all summer about the climb up Mont Ventoux, our longest climb and highest ever on bicycles.  It was a challenge that we had looked forward to with some trepidation.  It turned out to be much easier than we had expected.  Certainly, it was easier than two of the previous days on this trip.  We enjoyed a long, pleasant climb through forests on a lovely day -wonderful riding in fact.

 Until we rounded the corner and encountered a severe headwind in the alpine area.  Then it was a tough 3 K to the top.  You can see Anna and I in this picture if you really zoom in. 

 It was fun to see painting on the road from the Tour du France.

 This is a monument to a man that died racing here.  I didn't get much of a look at it as I was fighting to hold the bike in the wind when Anna and I passed it.  Patrick must have stopped to take this photo.

Candy stand at the top of the mountain!  That seems like a marvelous idea.  I passed on the opportunity to buy a celebratory treat as I had carried a bar of almond candy up from Sault.  The summit was a happy place for many cyclists - a little parade of them continued up both directions during the time we were there.  In fact, two men took photos to sell of cyclists climbing.  They snapped a picture of me struggling in the wind, then pushed a business card into my jersey pocket.   The festive mood reminded me of a low key race. 

Go, team!!

My pride in seeing Patrick and Sasha reach the top was huge.  Yea!!!!  It was rewarding to see the views of mountains - we need to come back and check out the tall Alps next time.  I was starting to shiver when we headed down, so I descended with all of those clothes on, and kept them on for lunch.  The way we descended seemed steeper and harder than what we went up and Patrick had a ball flying down the switchbacks.  I took it slower, as the beast was sluggish with the weight on the rear.

The town at the bottom had a rental shop with a fleet of Pinarellos for rent.  It was very tempting to rent two and head back up with Anna.  Instead, we loaded up my bike with two bottles of cider, a melon, and the fixings for dinner for four and headed to an apartment in the hills near Crestet.   It was a nice enough place, after we made it past three barking dogs and cleaned swarms of flies out of it.    Patrick had an upset stomach and took a nap in the afternoon. Sasha, Anna, and I headed out for tour of the very scenic countryside.  It was enchanting in the evening.  We rode past a vineyard with the thick scent of grapes, cycled to a ruined castle perched over a village, and wound our way back past trees heavy with pears.  I did another loop in the area checking out another winding road by the river with a different view of the ruins.  The castle is being restored by private owners and was originally built in 900.  This area looks very, very promising for more cycling in the hills northeast of Crestet.  Let me know if you want to go, I'm up for a return trip!

Top food of the day: pastis (anise liqueur)

Apt to Sault; snail spotting and serious mechanical concerns

Today was one of those days.  The kind that finds me pondering the substance of life on the road, and slipping into malaise.  We enjoyed a breakfast of melon, cheese and baguette while watching the rain.  Then headed into it.  Rain softened to drizzle pretty quick as we climbed out of Apt and to a lovely village.

 Rain brought out the snails.

 We headed up to explore a church perched on the hill above the ruins of a castle.  This is a view from the church courtyard.

 After thoroughly enjoying the baked goods the town had to offer (rosemary pizza, quiche, chocolate brownie, and almond pastry - that's what I ate anyway) we headed up and climbed the ridge that we had seen the previous day.  We were accompanied on the climb by this group of cyclists from Denmark.  The rain had stopped and we could enjoy the grade and view of the sky.  Nice climb.

Descent down to Sault was fine and scenic.  This is the view from town.  As we didn't go far today, we had time to kill before check- in.  It started to drizzle and we ate crepes in a cafe.  When we did mobilize to the hotel, Anna discovered that a spoke had broken on her rear wheel.  Shortly thereafter a second spoke broke.  We urged her to find the bike shop in the afternoon while Patrick and I went for a hike.

We christened our hike tour du poop after the trail let us first past the town's water treatment facility, where sewage had overflowed onto the path, then to a muddy trail, then to a place where a farmer had pitched a large amount of dog poop onto the trail.  Yuck!  It will be a while before I hike in France after that.

The spoke breaking was a real concern.

Top food of the day: sample of nougat from an artisan candymaker in town