RANDONNEE
To The Pyrenees Rosy Gray A two-week tour takes Rosy and Colin Gray from the UK down the French Atlantic Coast to Tillac in the Pyrenees.
Day 1 Cherboug to Creances Plage 74km
D
ay one started well. Nephew, Steve, dropped us off at Portsmouth and the Brittany Ferries ‘Vomit Comet’ (fast catamaran well known for causing sea sickness) left early and arrived in Cherbourg on time. Better than being 4 hours late as on one previous crossing. Off the ferry and no prizes for guessing what Colin had planned — straight up the steep hill to La Glacerie where Peter Sagen had won the second stage of the Tour de France two weeks earlier. Strangely he was not encumbered with two heavy panniers, or in Colin’s case a trailer full of camping kit as well. “We will soon be on a railway track”, was the only encouragement I received at the top of the first hill but somehow my dependable guide had forgotten to mention another 20km of steep ups and steep downs, some of it on a rough track, before we reached Bricquebec. Time for a beer! Bricquebec also has a fine castle and I thought of leaving Colin in the dungeon, but then wondered who would carry all my luggage, not to mention my make up. Once on the old railway line we made good progress in the late afternoon sunshine stopping at the supermarket in the next town to buy food for our evening meal and for the next day’s breakfast. No chance; we had arrived on Bastille Day, on which no one in France will be caught working. Fortunately we had a bottle of wine, some cheese and a packet of digestive biscuits in the trailer. Disaster averted. Later on I managed to grab an early lead in the puncture competition, and a well-earned rest whilst my mobile mechanic quickly fixed it. The railway line finished at Lessay, where Rommel had his headquarters prior to the D-Day landings. Then we turned west towards the coast at Créances Plage to find a pleasant campsite nestling in the sand dunes. It didn’t take long to put the tent up and even less time to polish off a fine bottle of Vacqueyras. Cycle touring at its best?
Day 2 Creances Plage to Pontaubault 84km
O
nly digestive biscuits and coffee for breakfast, so I was looking forward to my first pain au raisin of the holiday. However I had to wait some time for that due to a series of route finding disasters. The ‘Navigator’ had found a short section of track on Open Street Map that avoided a main road.
“Should be OK”, I was assured, and the first 500m was brand new tarmac. However tarmac soon turned to gravel and then tussocky grass. You-know-who just ploughed on as if it was still smooth tarmac, whilst I walked. When the grass gave way to deep pockets of fine sand even the Navigator took to walking and eventually we turned round and retraced to a gravel track leading back towards the main road we were trying to avoid. Our luck was out, after 100m of gravel it was impossible to ride and was even hard work pushing through 2 to 3 inches of loose sand for almost 2km. The ‘swear box’ had enough cash in to keep us in beers for the rest of the trip. Despite an early start it was late morning before my pain au raisin arrived and we had only covered 15km. After a short section of main road past the Pont de la Roque, destroyed in 1944 during Operation Cobra, it was fairly flat to lunch, eaten in a bus shelter as there were no picnic tables or even seats on the tiny lanes that now nicely avoided the main road down the west side of the Cotentin Peninsula. If the morning was flat the afternoon was a complete contrast as our route cut inland to avoid the busy roads around Granville. Colin was amazed when I rode up a section of 15% but I had to walk on a longer 15% climb just after the Abbey of Lucerne. A very hot afternoon did not make the constant grovelling uphill any easier and I was relieved when we arrived at the campsite in Pontaubault and negotiated the use of a four berth mobile home for the princely sum of €20. In case you are wondering if our French has suddenly improved; no chance, the site owner is English. The other bonus was that he also had a fridge full of cool beer, the first of which barely touched the sides of our throats. I was gutted when Colin pulled level in the puncture competition and it stayed at 1-1 for the rest of the trip. I guess Colin was pleased; he gets to mend them all.
Day 3 Pontaubault to St Aubin du Cormier 67km
T
here was a fairly leisurely start to the day with an easy ride along the coast to Mont Saint Michel. Everywhere was full of reminders of Le Grand Départ of the Tour two weeks previously. Bikes in fields, bikes hung from the bridge in Pontaubault, and bikes on bales of hay; all decorated in yellow, green or red spots on a white background. Having visited Le Mont Saint Michel several times before, and not wishing to leave our bikes unattended for an hour, we decided not to climb up to the cathedral and turned inland and headed for Pontorson, a charming and attractive town.
After coffee and chatting to a group of cyclists from Wales we headed south onto the course of an old railway line. There were some cycle route signs, but not always well placed and this should not have been a problem as Colin had the route on his Sat Nav. Yes, you have guessed it, we went wrong. The ‘Navigator’ blamed the bright sunshine shining on his Garmin screen, and we both must have missed a cycle route sign. After plunging down a steep hill and riding for some distance there was suddenly a very loud expletive in front of me. We were on the wrong side of the steep river valley the railway line had followed. “It’s not far to where we should be”, Colin said, and went in search of a way across the river. Having found a small bridge he was just about to fetch me when he was confronted by a very rude woman who seemed not to understand “Je suis perdu” (I am lost) and just kept shouting “Prive” (private) at him with a complete refusal to engage in any form of communication. Having both just voted ‘Remain’ we did wonder if perhaps Brexit was not such a bad idea. Next problem was to get back on route. The easy option denied, rather than retrace our route for 2km we pushed Colin’s bike and trailer up a 30% incline for 200m before returning for my bike. After a short detour the rest of the day was relatively straightforward until the inevitable ‘short cut’ to the campsite turned into a track that was barely rideable. At least Colin redeemed himself by riding to the supermarket and back and then cooking dinner. The little campsite by a small lake in the middle of Aubin du Cormier is a gem, but regrettably spoilt by a French group who partied until 3am, which was bad news for those of us who needed an early start. A Dutchman who had remonstrated with them several times was not too impressed either — so not too much love lost in what remains of the EU.
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Day 4 St Aubin du Cormier to Pouance 74km
felt a bit sorry for Colin. On what turned out to be another hot and hilly day, as it was Sunday he had to carry the food for our evening meal, in addition to all my luggage. Fortunately not too much of a problem after all those ‘headbanging’ audax miles he does with his mate Mark. Not long after setting off we encountered a possible problem, coming across a ‘Route Barrée’ (Road Closed). “Just ignore it”, Colin confidently said, and in the next town the reason for the lengthy diversion became apparent. There was a huge market filling every road in a decent sized town, leading to a 2km walk through packed streets. (More expletives from the ‘Navigator’, who hates walking, helped to keep the swear box full.)
www.aukweb.net Arrivée Autumn 2016 No. 134
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