21 juilliet

21 juilliet
Poitiers to Saint Jean d'Angely
130 km
Quiet ride through rolling hills. One backroad to the next. Lunch stop in Melle was most delightful. A small city with art installations throughout. Then back into the countryside until Saint Jean d'Angely. Arrived in perfect timing for the evening shopping. Stalls throughout the centre ville. Very tempted to purchase an entire roasted chicken. While searching for internet cafe, three musical contraptions powered and conducted by white faced mimes converged in the center of the shopping plaza. 100 of us were captivated and mesmerized by the odd musical spectacle.
Finally rolled down the hill to the municipale camping. It was complet. BUT, the proprietress has a tent reserved for pilgrims on the route to Compostelo. "Is it okay that you should use my tent?" Absolutely! So, tonight I am camping in a tent-house! It can rain all that it wants....

22 juilliet

22 juilliet
Saint Jean d'Angely a Royan
A late start from the lovely Saint Jean. Sat by the lake and watched the children play. About 2 p.m. headed SW towards Royan. Gently rolling hills leading to the sea, from which a not so gentle breeze blew. Ah, but it was unconditionally SUNNY. The first day of real warmth in at least a week. Spent quite a few hours in Saintes. A vocal group was practicing in the enormous cathedral. Their voices echoing throughout the expansive space gave life to the walls. Meandered up to the ruins of the Roman amphitheatre de St. Eutrope. I seem to have stepped out of the second world war, and am entering a much earlier time.
Leaving the SuperMarche with the evening's groceries, bumped into an older gentleman admiring le velo du moi. He was riding a beautiful ancient Peugeot. We had a lengthy discussion en Francais with many gestures, as he was very curious about my route, my equipment and how I stayed mentally fit riding in the rain.
Very pleasant camping a stone's throw from downtown Royan.
BTW, it is not a good idea to stow your cheese in with your clothes, even if it is just for an hour or so.

Almost ripe!

Curious ami Francais

Amphtheatre Romaine de St. Eutrope, Saintes.

Saintes Cathedral avec choeur

A quiet morning beside the canal.

10 star camping, Saint Jean d'Angely.

La fille won the sprint a le poubelle dechets. "Allez! Allez avec vous dragon!"

A musician of Saint Jean d'Angely

The tulips on the ridgeline protect the thatch...

Lunch buddy

How long will she be?

Col du Tormalet a la Flunch

Rouen Cahedral spire

Accordian buddies

Passport gluten free France

Favorite downspout so far

The Seine

July 14

July 14
Bastille Day
Puttered about Rouen. Plenty of old and new juxtaposed. Teenage accordion player stirring the air in the plaza before the cathedral. The tremendous leaden spire appearing through alleyways, behind modern buildings, peering over my shoulder whenever I least expected it. Had no idea the cathedral had been so badly damaged in 1944. First a Lancaster missed it's target and bombed the south side, then some B-17's firebombed the neighborhood. By 1956 it was restored, only to be attacked by a tornado! The stonework is mind boggling in scale and delicacy.
Hunkered down in a Flunch restaurant: free wifi, and a big screen tv showing the tour. I'll be climbing le col du tormalet myself, soon enough. Think I'll lighten the panniers a bit beforehand...
Looking forward to the fireworks tonight. It sounds like the fourth of July just a little, but more relaxed. People enjoying outdoor cafes and playing ptank (bocce ball). It's a pleasant day off more than anything else, by my eyes.

15 Juilliet

15 Juilliet
Rouen to near Houlgate
141 km
Put my head down for a little nap before taking in the 11 p.m. fireworks, and woke in the morning. Slept through the whole sheebang, but for a few late night neighborhood explosions. Sounded like dynamite. Local boys were having a blast.
Thought I was waking to the sound of a small child learning to play some kind of wheezy wind instrument,laying the same tune over and over and over. Only the mourning doves.
After visiting an internet shop, where nI was able to upload some improved GPS tracks for the next legs of my journey (and surprise myself repeatedly with le keyboard Francais. Definitely not QWERTY.), rolled west along the Seine. Clear skies, temperatures in the mid-twenties, couldn't be better.
The big river winds in lazy curves from here to the sea, so I plotted a course that cut some corners. Playing touch tag with the water, climbing steep little hills on quiet forested roads, then descending sweeping shaded curves. Crossed over on a striking modern bridge. Had my own lane, as there was no farm equipment to share it with. Very civilized. Then it was rolling countryside tout le route au la mer.
While riding an isolated stretch of wheat field, saw what, in the states, I would have called a coyote standing in the middle of the road watching me approach. Dun brown color of ripe wheat, large alert ears, bushy tail bristling like a bottle brush. Assuming it was a large fox. When I was within 10 meters, it vanished into the field. How many have watched me pass so far? My silent companions.
Camping was a bit difficult to find, seeing as its a holiday weekend. Slipped into a sweet spot overlooking the sea just shy of Houlgate, after closing time. As I leant my bike against the fence and started setting up the tent, a gentle rain began to fall. I am living a charmed life.

Bike of the day

Morgan, Laura, Grant, Brian, Sarah, Moi

Chez Morgan during a brief sunny interval between storms...

Au revoir, Morgan. Merci beaucoup!

20 juilliet

20 juilliet
Dampierre a Poitiers en le gare
After a lovely breakfast of peanut butter and jam, bid farewell to Morgan, and rode the 25 km to St. Lo and the train station. Under cloudy skies threatening rain. About halfway there, the rain arrived in earnest. This made the train trip to Poitiers all the more gratifying. Unfortunately, it was raining even harder in Poitiers (6 hours later and several hundred km to the south of Dampierre). After exploring the downtown in le deluge, headed to Saint Benoit and the beautiful camping ground beside the river. Raining even harder there. To camp on the sodden turf for 10 Euros, or check into a hotel and dry out for 50 Euros? That was the question. It was the part about setting up the tent in the downpour that swayed my decision making. Warm and drying and ready for tomorrow!

St. Lo

Bike route from Dampierre to St. Lo and the train station

19 juilliet

19 juilliet
Dampierre
Woke early to bid farewell to Laura & Grant, then to Sarah $ Brian. Puttered about route planning, then napped for tres houres. Morgan took me on a tour of Dampierre, particularly the majestic chateau with it's adorable goats who smiled at us like la chat Cheshire, and the deep and forbidding moat. And l'eglise, which was closed, with it's adjacent cimitiere and family vault. The rooster downspouts and carved cornerstone owls captivated me. The grave of Serge Gillette, 1947-1971, was so sad. While dancing with many friends at a local wedding, the floor collapsed over an ancient pit. He and six others from the town died. A tragedy of unimaginable scope in the small town of Dampierre.
Morgan made a beautiful turkey dinner, with a delicious cereraic salad.
Merci tres beaucoup!

The little church in Dampierre

Serge's monument

Another downspout.

Morgan's neighbors

18 juilliet

A day in Bayeau, visiting the tapestry. What a story! An excursion to Port de Buisson to collect scallop shells from the vast scallop shell depository.
Then another late night of engaging conversation covering topics from Rabbit Stew (Thank you, Morgan!) to sibling stories to the perils of Calvados (the local, very tasty & quite powerful apple bandy). It is such a pleasure to be in the presence of these fine, sweet people.

A model boat for invading England in 1066. With horses.

Overlooking the sea

Bayeau Cathedral

Scallop shell

17 juilliet

17 juilliet
Normandy Memorials
A day completely off the bike.
Starting with a divine breakfast of flan avec pommes prepared by Morgan, we headed off to the Omaha Beach cemetery and memorial. The visitor center engulfed me, particularly the individual narratives told by the men themselves (for the survivors) or their families (for the dead). These were boys, plunging into a truly terrifying situation. They died such brutal deaths.
Then, the cemetery itself. Eyes were blurry with unexpected tears.
Then off to Point du Hoc, where the craters and broken bunkers from the shelling remain. Wind was howling. Rain came and went and came again. Imagining the chaos, the din, the fear and death, was overwhelming. The bunker at the point showed evidence of massive fire within, with one wall etched by the impact of hundreds of bullets. An arresting site.
Best to imagine the craters as a child's playground. Morgan, Grant and I ran in and out of the craters. Got a viscereal sense of the topography.
Our final stop was the German cemetery. Dedicated to peace. A different place, quiet and contemplative. Most of the soldiers were 18, 19, 20 years old. Some of the graves were multiple. Lots of trees. Again the wind. The visitor center again engulfed me with stories. Of note, the first person account of the Allied invasion from the point of view of one of the surviving German soldiers. He was at first completely numb, only awakening to action when machine gun fire against his position began. He knew he had nothing to fight for, most of his compatriots were dead or incapacitated from the endless shelling, but what else could he do? Still more stories, and more tragic still, the countless noncombatants caught in the crossfire. Emotionally exhausted, we made our way back to the farmhouse and started cooking...
Dinner started at 10. At midnight, the conversation slipped into a pause and we said our "Bon nuit." Then the conversation got rolling again and next we looked it was 1:15 a.m.

Memorial at Omaha Beachv

Bomb craters on Pont d'Hoc.

Imagine the withering bombardment.

Bullets.

German gravestone.

16 juilliet

16 juilliet
Houlgate to Dampierre
100 km
Pleasant ride to Caen, successful shopping, visit to chateau of William the Conquerer. Conversation with bicycle admirer, with son translating. Wished to ride PBP, but had recent coronary.
The 60 km from Caen to Dampierre in a heavy downpour with a ferocious headwind. Felt just like home.
Lovely conversation with Morgan as she made dinner. About 8 Grant & Laura from South Africa, and Brian & Sarah from Wash., D.C., arrived from a long visit to the museum in Caen. Ate and talked until midnight.
Laura is studying architecture at university in Pennsylvania, Grant is working for an NGO evaluating the effectiveness of various economic & agricultural initiatives in Sierra Leone, Brian just completed his first year of medical school, and Sarah organizes alumni affairs for Wesleyan College.
Inspiring people! Took moonlight walk on quiet lane with Morgan and Grant. A very sweet day indeed.

Quarrying wheel.

The keep

The castle of William the Conquerer.

The sea near Houlgate.

Ladybugs in m tent.