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November 8 Tuesday Bicycle touring France from Mauriac France to Laroquebrou France We awoke to ducks quacking on the pond. Shortly thereafter workman and noisy equipment arrived. Personally, I preferred the ducks. We went to a bike shop to get a new pneau tire for my fair lady's cycle. It cost 100 francs ($28) for a Michelin Select. I think I got ripped off. First I asked for a 700 x 35C, which the owner just happened to have a dusty cobwebby one in the back. They don't do much bicycle touring here, I guess. Sharon put the new bike tire on. I pumped it up. The tire wouldn't even turn under her brake arms. We took it off. I go back in and explain and ask for a smaller size. The owner comes out to examine both bike tires to see why this one won't fit since that is what I asked for ... and that is the size that I just took off the bike. He double-checks the old bike tire to make sure I'm not feeding him a bunch of hooey. Yep, 35C. He points to Sharon's front bike tire and then to the rear of her bike. He figures we should switch her front bike tire to the back since it is bigger than the 28C he is selling us now. We do. I figure the price should be less (it's a smaller tire, after all) -- so, after debating whether I should go back in or not, I do. Yep, same price he tells me. Probably just for me, I figure. Rip the foreigners off. No repeat business anyway. I want to check another bike shop to see how much I got ripped off, but Sharon tells me that's not a good idea. We pedal out of town and drop a thousand feet, giving Sharon's new bike tire a good workout. Just as we cross a river we see a closed camping area and duck in to eat. There is a beautiful forest view through a bridge arch. It spans the river on a road corner before the road takes off for the sky once again. The route we have chosen to bicycle tour certainly is not for the faint of heart ... or leg. We saw another loaded cycle tourist across the street at another bike shop when we were changing Sharon's tire. His panniers were multi-coloured. He waved as he rode by, but he didn't stop. We see him again, going up a hill, from where we stopped to eat in the campground. We finish our snack and get back on our fully loaded touring bicycles for more fun. A series of hairpin corners on D2 greets us, first downhill -- maybe I'll have to tighten my brakes, I think to myself -- then uphill, (Gee, maybe my brakes are rubbing, I think to myself). Sharon's speedometer reads 107 kph for her maximum speed on the descent. Tour de France, here we come! We pulled our touring bikes to a halt in La Roquebrouto to get a baguette. We decided we like the baguettes better than the "pain" or loaves of bread. They taste better. We had been buying pain because they were bigger. We decide we will just buy two baguettes. There is a castle ruin, a crucifix statue, an old church, of course, water fountains with lion heads, and a wide river. We stop on the bridge across to D7 and see an entryway under the town with water coming out. The water is still so high it covers a sidewalk along the river's edge near restaurants and hotels with laundry hanging below to dry. A cart filled with red flowers in the village centre with another fountain. I went into a patisserie and asked for water (which was located across from a fountain with water spurting out). The woman pointed across the street and said "fountain," but she kindly took my water bottle and filled them anyway. When she returned I asked, "Fountain potable?" She looked at me like I had rocks in my head. Of course it's potable. Lots of cow bells dinging throughout the day. The hills are alive with cows. The hills are spectacularly green. All that rain. It looks like pictures of Ireland and England. We got back on our touring bicycles and passed the touring cyclist on D2. He was changing a flat tire. We waved as we went by. It's nice to know we're not the only ones with tire problems -- and he has a mountain bike. The cyclist caught up to us in Laroquebrou. I went over to him and gave him soap for his greasy hands. He went down to the river edge and washed up. He is from Switzerland and he is going to the Pyrenees. Hoo boy. I thought we were on this route to avoid the Pyrenees. Hoo boy. Bicycle touring with a fully loaded bicycle in the Pyrenees is not my idea of fun. Our cycle touring buddy tells us that he is learning English as he cycles along. He wears headphones and listens to tapes. He shows us his more detailed map ... it shows D33 paralleling N122. We're pedalled out on D33. It is the smallest road we have been on. We are camped in a forest. I made a candle lantern out of a two-litre juice bottle since the candles I bought are so drippy they are getting my candle lantern all gucked up -- a technical term. Dogs from a neighboring farm have been barking non-stop since we got here. Eau de cyclist? Do dogs ever wake up in the morning with a sore throat and wonder: Why the hell was I barking so much last night? Noticed something today that I thought was interesting. In Quebec, the stop signs reat: Arret. In France, the stop signs read: STOP. Go figure. In La Roquebrou, running along the side of a church was a tiny street about a cart-width made from flat rocks with mucho green moss growing on them. Really cool looking. It is fun traveling on roads where I have no idea where they are going or what sights will be there when I get there. It is a constant discovery and learning experience. Saw a chateau today. This is a really beautiful part of France that we are cycling. But one thing I can say for sure: It ain't flat! We sure picked a hilly route to bicycle tour while we were trying to avoid the mountains. Great views over the edge though. |
