Cycle Ink Autumn 2009 by CTC Wessex Cycling

THE WESSEX NEWSLETTER Edited independently in three of the CTC Wessex member group areas and published quarterly. Please contact your nearest member group or access the club website for information on any events www.wessexctc.org for all CTC Wessex activities

CTC WESSEX SECRETARY Peter Loakes, Church Cottage, West Stafford, DT2 8AB (01305) 263272 CTC BOURNEMOUTH Cheryl Owen, 1 Bond Road, Poole BH15 3RT (01202) 738428 CTC SALISBURY Alan Clarke, “Hill House”, Kelsey Road, Salisbury SP1 1JR (01722) 322188 CTC WEST DORSET Mike Durham, 74 Westhill, Wyke Regis, Weymouth DT4 9NE (01305) 770140 CTC BLACKMORE VALE Richard Gow, Wildfell, Crown Rd, Marnhull, DT10 1LN (01258) 821391

Sunday 6th Sep Sunday 6th Sep Sunday 6th Sep Sunday 6th Sep Sunday 13th Sep Sunday 20st Sep Sunday 11th Oct Saturday 14th Nov Sunday 13th Dec

Main Calendar Dates For 2009

New Forest 50km New Forest and Coast 100km New Forest 150km New Forest On & Off Shore 200km Dorset Dirt 50km offroad Bournemouth Square 200km Gridiron 100km Cycle Jumble, Burley All Bournemoth Christmas Tea

John Ward John Ward John Ward John Ward Ken Reed Brian Callow Terry Walsh Jim Hatton Joan Courtney

01590 671205 01590 671205 01590 671205 01590 671205 01305 772654 01202 526606 01202 247888 01425 280889 01202 731978

COMBINED BOURNEMOUTH GROUPS

GRAND CHRISTMAS TEA @ £3/head 3pm Sunday 13th December Sturminster Marshall Old School Hall NAME(S): ___________________________ ADDRESS ___________________________ PHONE:

___________________________

Send this booking and money to: Joan Courtney The Studio, 2a Glencoe Road, Poole BH12 2DW By the deadline of 1st December

FIRSTLY so you don’t miss it. The Grand Christmas Tea for all Bournemouth Groups is going ahead. A good time is promised for all with food, music and games. Don’t forget to send in your booking right away, go on, its just there on the inside front cover. Do it now, you know you’ll only forget otherwise. The subject of Cyclosportif events popped up on the horizon recently and although these have been running for about 10 years they are only just now gathering momentum. The general opinion seems to be that anything that gets people out on their bikes is a good thing. A lovely comparison I found on the web was as follows: A Cycloportif is an event for people who like to pretend they are racing. An Audax is an event for people who like to pretend they are not racing. Anyway, we have one of these in the New Forest on the same day as our “Gridiron” 100km and Terry has talked to the organiser about the routes which cross at some points. The Cyclosportif event will have marshals out directing their riders (entrants do pay about 5 times as much as we charge) and so if you are in the Gridiron, make sure you know the route and don’t take any notice of these or you’ll be misdirected. All this prompted us to look at our Google rankings when searching for cycling in the New Forest and the committee has authorised the setting up of a new additional domain for us. www.newforestcycling.net In this issue Bob Courtney is musing on his favourite theme of a rest home for retired cyclists, a tantalising and strangely comforting thought. More seriously we have contributions from Margaret Phillpotts on her very wet and arduous ride in the LEL (London-Edinburgh-London) and also Sheila Ward on their tour to the Med and back on a recumbent. These are stories to inspire I think, or make you freeze with fear anyway. Two issues ago we printed the opening scene of Penny and Damien Buckley’s tale of their tour in Burgundy and promised the complete tale in a later issue. This now appears, re-edited, revised and expanded in the web-only version of this issue.

Keith Matthews - Editor 3

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CTC Blackmore Vale Rides These take place every 2 weeks alternating between Saturday & Sunday meeting at 10am & starting at 10.30am. Rides are shorter in Winter (20 miles) and build up gradually to longer rides in Summer (50 miles). We stop for lunch either at a café or pub; during British Summer Time, we usually bring picnics but there is often a café near the lunch stop. You can ride to the meeting place for added mileage or drive all/part way. We welcome newcomers who consider that they can cope with the mileage – no one gets left behind! Give us a call beforehand so that we can look out for you. 01963 32840 - Richard & Margaret Nicholl or 01258 821391 - Richard Gow

Sat 19th SEPT

MEET: PYTHOUSE Farm Shop, Semley/Newton LUNCH: Wilton & Grovely Wood TEA: Pythouse Sun 4th OCT MEET: SHERBORNE, Castle Garden Centre LUNCH: Ham Hill Country Park Sat 17th OCT MEET: Sutton Montis, Bramble & Sage, Home Farm LUNCH: Lyte's Cary Manor Sun 1st NOV MEET: Stourhead, NT Cafe LUNCH: Longleat, Cellar Café Sat 14th NOV MEET: Castle Cary, The Old Bakehouse, High St LUNCH: Shepton Mallet, fish & chips at Winsboroughs [n.b. This was the Blackmore Vale first ride 11 years ago] Sun 29th NOV MEET: East Stour, Udder Farm Shop LUNCH: Compton Abbas, airfield café Sat 12th DEC MEET: Wincanton memorial hall Mystery Ride Coffee Pot Meets on Tuesdays Arrive at the Cafes at 10:30. An informal ride may or may not be arranged on the day. 1st Tuesday of Month Meet Café Central Wincanton 2nd Tuesday of Month Waitrose Café Gillingham 3rd Tuesday of Month N.T. Café Stourhead 4th Tuesday of Month Wheathill Lane Garden Centre Milborne Port 5th Tuesday of Month Phone contacts to find out!

Chas. Roberts Clubman Compact Lightweight Cycle. (Suitable 5'6" - 5'8" person) Reynolds 531 frame suitable audax / day touring. Light blue to dark blue 24 gears giving very low gear for hills; Shimano PD M323 pedals STI gear levers; 3T north road bars; Shimano RX100 dual pivot brakes. Discuss price with Lilian Maton 01305 782020 or lilian@matonj.fsnet.co.uk

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Burley Village Hall Saturday November 14th between10am & 2pm Admission 50 pence. Light Refreshments Available To book a table ring Jim Hatton (01425) 280 889

http://www.wessexsr.talktalk.net/newsuns/cafelist[1].html Is maintained at the above address. Additions and updates are requested please.

I am a keen road cyclist. Having recently moved my business to Wool the idea was conceived for what is now nicknamed the 'peloton cafe', a room at Woolbridge Business Park by the level crossing in Wool. We provide hot drinks and packed snacks but nothing cooked or prepared. We also have the space to invite your members to park and meet up leaving their cars if they wish or to stop on club rides. We will commit to stay open throughout the winter months if it is well supported and run it as a 'clubhouse' and charge 50p for membership included in the first cup of coffee! Our opening times will be 8am to 1pm on Sundays. David Chalstrey (. . . edited to fit it all in. EDITOR!)

http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/romsey/cafe/144az87/bramleys-tearooms

Very cyclist friendly, gorgeous cakes etc. It is called Bramleys and is just north of Sherfield English. Recommended by Margaret.

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Manche to Med and Back

By Sheila Ward

. . . on three wheels

“How long are you staying at the Med”? asked a friend. “About half an hour,” I responded, and she looked at me amazed. Initially we just planned to join a CTC holiday tour from Manche to Med (actually Portsmouth to Villeneuve-les-Maguelone, south west of Montpellier). But when we decided to tackle it on our recumbent tandem trike (a Greenspeed GTT tandem – bought secondhand in Ireland as a retirement ‘toy’) getting home presented some issues. The European Bike Express offered to bring it and us home with the rest of the party (it has S&S couplings), but with John now retired we realized we could take the extra time and cycle back, so we planned a detailed return route. Keeping our carbon emissions down, we pedaled from our home in Lymington via the Isle of Wight to Portsmouth. At the rendezvous with the other tour members in the Ship and Castle by the ferry port, we noted their mostly lightweight solo bikes with some concern. John had already fixed a ‘lanterne rouge’ sign to the back of the trike, as we expected its great weight and our unfitness would keep us at the back of the group. Disembarking from the overnight ferry at Ouistreham in the dawn, we enjoyed the flat run along a canal-side path into Caen, with the mist rising from the water and frequent heron sightings, stopping for coffee and croissants at the Pegasus Bridge café which opened for us at 7 a.m. The first few days were through rolling countryside, some of which suits the trike very well if we can get up enough speed down one hill to roll at least part way up the next. We were delighted to discover a couple of our fellow cyclists were no faster than us. Our first overnight stop was at Falaise, where we visited the castle. Then on to an undistinguished little place, Le Mêle sur Sarthe, where at the insistence of the tourist office lady we strolled round their town fishing lake. At La Chartresur-le-Loir we stayed in an old coaching inn, enjoying pre-dinner drinks on its sunny street terrace. During these early days of the trip we got to know the other members of the tour, who were tolerant of the trike’s different speeds down and uphill, and enjoyed the first of many café stops and picnic lunches. We also heard the first of many cuckoos and began to note the changing roadside wild flowers which are at our eye level. The unusual trike caused daily entertainment to other road users and bystanders.

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Reaching the Loire valley we arrived early enough at Amboise to visit Clos Luce, the final home of Leonardo da Vinci, to marvel at his inventions. Another short day took us to Loches where we explored the fine medieval town. Here we stayed, as we did many times, in a good Logis de France hotel and had a smashing dinner. Next day we met early rain and piled dripping into a welcome café for hot chocolate at elevenses time. It dried up as we crossed the Parc Naturel de la Brenne, a region of étangs (shallow lakes) with plenty of birds including nightingales to listen to and wild flowers including our first asphodels to spot. Our overnight stop, Argenton-sur-Creuse, had an undeveloped but picturesque river frontage. Once we started to meet proper hills, we discovered that most lunch and coffee stops were immediately followed by a climb. But we were gratified to discover that we weren’t the slowest in the group - but then we were by no means the oldest either. The 78-year old member of the party was usually well out in front. We found that pedaling uphill steadily, often more slowly than you could walk, got us to the top, in spite of the huge weight of the solidly-built trike plus us and our panniers. Nevertheless we left a bit early next day, as we did on some days after, to avoid the risk of delaying the group too much. We started to climb seriously as we approached the Massif Central and finally arrived in heavy rain at Lac de Vassivière. The next day started with plenty of climbing as we entered the Auvergne to cross the Plateau de Millevaches, followed by a steep descent into the Dordogne gorge, where we had to carry the trike over road works several times. A lengthy uphill grind to reach Mauriac just about finished us off, and supper of a lake of lentils didn’t help. A sunny downhill start next day helped us but the climbs soon returned, plus a steep descent into the gorge of the Maronne, when John could feel hot air from our two front wheel disc brakes streaming back over his hands. We ended up at a modern lakeside hotel at Lacapelle Viescamp with plenty of time for the first ice cream of the tour. A choppy route through meadows then led us to a long descent into the Lot valley, where we sped along ahead of the group before continuing up the Lot gorge steadily to the pilgrim town of Estaing. Prewarned of simple supper fare, we were delighted to discover that the chef must have been on a course and produced a splendid meal.

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Lots of pilgrims approaching the town on foot greeted us as we left next morning. A tricky route was eased by trial use of our new GPS using the route supplied by our leaders, and after escaping the rain into our coffee stop café, we climbed over the Col de la Lagarde on the Causse de Severac, dripped into a café for lunch to dry out, and then descended at speed into the Tarn gorge. The final 20 km climb up the Jonte gorge in ‘atmospheric’ weather, where we spotted some of the resident vultures circling high above, was vastly improved when we discovered the final section into Meyruis was flattish. The by now usual post-breakfast climb trough the Cévennes National Park in the morning was long and serious, but the cool damp weather helped as we achieved first the Col de la Serreyrède (1289m), where one of our party detoured to Mont Aigoul (1565m) for a prolonged photo session, and then the Col de Minier (1264m). Here we piled on all the clothes we had to take a windswept photo by the sign marking the watershed between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. But as we started the fast hairpin descent, the sky Crow suddenly cleared, the sun came out, and the vast views of Milestone southernnear France opened out before us. A welcome café halfway down offered hot drinks and food to complete the task of thawing us out, and our hotel at Le Vigan fed us well later. After the best breakfast of the tour, the end of our group trip was approaching. But our leaders had a few more challenges to throw at us. Uphill from breakfast we all puffed our way over the Causse de Blandas with great wild flowers to the coffee stop café, where we all gazed anxiously over the rim of the Cirque de Navacelles, a huge hole in the ground created by a cut-off section of the gorge of the Vis river. In hot sun we cautiously negotiated the drop of about 1000 feet, round many hairpin bends, before changing into our lowest granny gear to climb extremely slowly up the other side, stopping several times for water and inching past some of our companions who decided to walk part of the way. After a well-earned picnic lunch on the other rim of the Cirque, more climbing through wild countryside brought us to the Col du Vent (702m). A long fast drop ensued with stunning views of the sparkling Med 2000 feet below and waves of increasingly hot air. We shouted encouragement to some The Forgotten Road French club cyclists toiling up in the opposite direction in the mid-afternoon heat. Meeting up at a café at the foot of the mountains, we all drifted relieved into our Aniane hotel. Lumpy terrain took us through cistuses and orchids on the last day of the tour to a short final climb over a ridge before the coastal plain, where a wind-assisted fast stretch brought us

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to a lagoon by the Mediterranean for our final group picnic and photo. From someone who had used GPS all the way, we learned that we had climbed and descended over 33,000 feet on our way south. After just twenty minutes, we had to leave the group who would return later on the European Bike Express. We had just five days to get to Condom to stay with friends before they left for a trip to England. We did miss the others as we pedaled away from the Med it seemed very quiet, and we kept expecting our faster companions to pedal past us up hills. We thought of them all arriving at the European Bike Express bus pick-up point (and next morning at Dover in the grey of dawn). We made excellent time to Pezenas on that first afternoon, and had time to explore the charming old town centre, but that was followed by a long hot flat day across the Minervois and along parts of the Canal du Midi, with John's knee playing up - possibly a hangover from the Cirque de Navacelles. We enjoyed B&B at a ‘domaine’ at Laure Minervois, hearing about the universal problems of growing vines. Luckily the knee recovered next day as we climbed across the end of the Montagne Noir, earning ourselves an 11 km downhill at the end to our overnight stop, a bastide town called Revel. The third day took us past the north of Toulouse (rather tricky navigation but we got there) to a B&B in the village of Montaigut-sur-Save where the host was out, but luckily her neighbour produced ‘Pages Jaunes’ after an hour and we rang to book into a nearby hotel which was excellent. The last day of the middle stage of our trip was increasingly hilly and hot as we approached our friends' home at Condom. A two night stay there was very welcome and gave John time to replace the brake pads before we set off almost due north on stage 3. Our first half day took us to a rather dull small town, Aiguillon, where the Mayor spotted us and came over to introduce himself. The only place to eat was a pizza restaurant. Then on to Bergerac in searing heat, with a brake problem on a steep hill overlooking the town, which was later resolved by putting back one of the old brake pads before exploring the old city centre. This was followed by Perigueux, another medieval town centre, and an overnight puncture (the only one of the trip) fixed in the hotel garage next morning. We then pedaled via rainy Brantome (one of several ‘Venices of France’) to our hotel in an interesting small town called Nontron, perched on the edge of a deep valley

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and renowned for very expensive handmade knives - it had a mountain feel to it. Our next stop was Roumazieres Loubert, a total non-event of a place with two huge tile factories and a lot of social housing. But the reason was an afternoon Velorail trip which we thoroughly enjoyed and the one hotel was good too. (Velorail involves a flat rail wagon on a disused railway line with two pedaling positions and a few seats on it. There are nine or ten Velorails in France.) The next overnight stop, Lussac les Chateaux, was poor route alteration on my part - a small town riven by a main road with lorries thundering through and a Logis hotel which was merely a truck-drivers stop. Still, they had a good washing line! En route next day we visited Chauvigny to see the spectacular hilltop ruins of five castles, but were stopped twice by the same police for going the wrong way up one-way streets! I blamed their tourist signage - John blamed me. We had altered our planned route to stay at a small place called Lencloitre which turned out to be quite pleasant, and then we set off for Chinon, where we spent two nights and canoed for a whole day down the Vienne and Loire to Saumur, getting stuck on sandbanks on the way. Next stop was called BaugĂŠ - with castle, but a bit hot and not much to see, followed by St Suzanne, another castle but this time a charming little place with a spectacular hilltop situation. On from there we pedaled via an oldfashioned spa, Bagnoles de l'Orne, to Putanges Pont Ecrepin at the edge of the Suisse Normande - a pleasant surprise of a small town with WW2 history attached. We had decided to head for Caen in one long day and take the overnight ferry back to Portsmouth to get home a day early, but were a bit surprised to find the hills as big after the Suisse Normande as in it. We arrived in Caen after a slight detour as everyone gathered for the D-Day celebrations, and were delighted to be given 'respect' by some young army bandsmen sitting next to us in a cafe. The run along the canal-side path to Ouistreham in the early evening was a contrast to our dawn arrival nearly five weeks before, with joggers galore on the path and rowers on the canal, and Pegasus Bridge was hotching with people, jeeps, media and a BBQ at the bar opposite 'our' cafe. Next morning we docked early at Portsmouth and were home via the Isle of Wight by elevenses time. It felt strange not to start washing out our cycling kit, and improvising a line in the bathroom on which to dry it, before supper. We had passed through some delightful places on the way and had mostly good

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weather. We had stayed in some pleasant hotels and eaten mostly very well. The trike had spent its nights in a variety of spots including a hotel corridor, a function room, and many garages and courtyards. We must have explained the trike at least twice a day every day, and got lots more waves, hoots and grins. It behaved perfectly apart from the one puncture and the brake sticking. We weren't in such good shape – having been sitting down for thirtythree days, most of our walking muscles had grown quite weak. And John, when asked about the trip, just says, “We went to the Med for a picnic.”

A Little Tip

By Dave Wiseman When tipping your bike upside down to remove a wheel or look at chains etc. it is easy to damage computers or items fixed to the handlebars or stem. An easy way to overcome this problem is to find a suitable piece of timber approx. 100mm x 175mm and 75mm thick (4” x 7” x 3”) and drill a hole in the centre 35mm (1 ”) round and then cut the timber in two giving you two similar sections. By using a piece of cord you can set the width to relate to your handlebars. Easy!

100 in 8 Result 2009

By Shawn Shaw

Four riders were successful in this years’ event held on 12th July. Bob Lakin, Guy Baverstock-Poppy Stephen Gould Shawn Shaw. Well done to all four!

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Where Do Old Bikies Go?

By Big Bob C

Those of you who had the good fortune to ride with me over the years and whose marriages have survived (with a few exceptions) the prolonged absences and overall enlightenment this brings will know that whether stretching in the warmth of a Country Pub in winter, with the bike waiting patiently outside, or taking a break in summer under the shade of some friendly tree, an old dream of mine is usually mentioned. I think after some thought the general Cycling World is ready to receive it. Sadly it involves raising finance, something I am notoriously bad at, as most of my income seems to be siphoned off by Shimano, Ribble, Primera or Brittany Ferries before it even gets to me. But the dream lives on! A Residential Home for mature cyclists. . . There I’ve said it. All those with a certain degree of decrepitude, which means most of my cycling companions, would be welcomed to stay with open arms. Even those who regularly thrash me in the Cowgrove Sprint could shelter in its happy warmth. Its name will be “ Le Hotel du Velo Sportiv”. I’ve no idea of its meaning but it sounds about right. It will be situated in a sheltered Dorset valley on land generously donated by the spouse of an eminent international superstar, who have recently gone their separate ways, to emphasise his love of Cycling. Unfortunately this largess did not extend to the superstructures required for our cycling use but I’m sure this can be achieved in time with sufficient fund raising. In the grounds an intimate café will be built surrounded by trees approached by a winding cyclepath with a waist high fence for stacking bikes on and presided over by a fulsome warm hearted lady (volunteer urgently required) who can more than counter the cheeky comments of knackered old bikies staggering in with their sagging kit, veterans of a lifetime of roads and tracks. I am delighted to have this very second been informed that Jean B has accepted the position of Café Manageress which is good news indeed. Unfortunately this does mean that Fred will have to take up residence as well but I urge tolerance, it is a cross we shall have to bear for the common good. To continue. Outside the open window on a clever arrangement of cables a full sized cardboard silhouette of a speeding car would periodically pass by so that Alan G could lean out and shout abuse from his favourite window seat. In a cosy corner Alan D could regale us once again his tale of the Ibberton Tunnel

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and dear Mike L will again explain something or other to me and I shan’t be able to hear a word (my fault not his). After pots of tea, cakes to die for and the usual punch-up over Mike B’s baked beans the Peleton could proceed down the path via a bitterly contested short sprint prime marked by a white line three feet wide to give everyone a chance but as usual John E will take it. Clearing the trees and a downhill swoop will bring us to the piece-deresistance, compact it is true, but never the less our very own Velodrome. Whether the track banking faces inward or outward will be of no consequence to us as at the velocities we achieve centrifugal forces have little effect and can be safely ignored. Once a year our Six Day continental style event will be held there with full blown music, foaming lager bar and general Belgian mayhem with a Derny paced “ Ie Hotel Sportif” Kerin being a highlight having Rob G, in the interest of economy, on his recycled Dawes in lieu of a Derny lead-out. And so our path continues down by the lake and back to Le Hotel where in the evening good solid cycling food will be served with no one to say no to a second helping of Treacle Pud and Custard. On Saturday nights Le Hotel will be “En Fete” with guests invited where the true art of Cross Toasting will be encouraged. If we are especially fortunate Dereck P can be prevailed upon, after dinner, to perform his thrilling rendition with its gut wrenching heavy rock bass and howling treble of Jimi Hendrix’s “Hey Joe” before in true Hendrix style setting his ukulele on fire and smashing it across the stage along with his George Formby hat. At the conclusion of the evening the house toast will take place, a solemn event based on the ancient Greek pledge of fraternity. So with glasses raised on high a united shout of “ EVEN UNTO DEATH” will echo across the valley with every member a living affirmation of the house motto “ON SONG AND AT FULL THRASH”. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Le Hotel du Velo Sportif.

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London to Edinburgh

By Margaret Phillpotts

and back . . . not necessarily by Bike! an hour’s sleep and, after more food, set off at first light (4:00am) to tackle the section to Coxwold. It was hard to get going and Coxwold seemed a long way! Even walked a couple of sharp inclines, but breakfast soon put things right and off I trundled to Middleton Tyas. The crew here included our very own Mike Walsh and Julia Baker-Beall. Volunteers were in short supply and so one of the I was the reluctant ‘LEL’er, not at all northerly controls was manned by sure I wanted to even attempt the people from way down south! Still, I 1401 kms in 116 hours 40 mins, night was very pleased to see a ‘local’, riding not being my favourite pastime. especially as he offered to get his Anyway, I decided to at least set out. sleeping bag to Alston for me in the At least to take part in this, once every hopes I could use it on my return four years, flagship event in Britain. journey. The ride started from Lea Valley youth hostel, Cheshunt, London. The registration of 600 riders, with twothirds coming from Europe, Australia, America and even Japan, took place on the Saturday afternoon. It was a lengthy procedure, in very hot sunshine! I was on the 8:00 am Sunday start, along with my roommate from the previous night (Denise). We had not managed a lot of sleep due to traffic noise from the A10 right alongside the Travelodge.

En route to Alston (north bound) we had first to get over Yad Moss, the highest point of the ride. Before that we went over Whorlton Bridge and through very pretty Barnard Castle. I was to see much more of these places on my return though. Yad Moss was very up and down; not too bad for those from Dorset; but sadly a strong cross wind prevented too much view watching. I know I was thinking of my walking boots when I got to the top – very inviting. The descent to the

My schedule was to ride the 321k to Thorne before trying to get a few hours sleep. WRONG! Managed the 321k by shortly after midnight but all the beds were taken and it was even difficult to find floor space! We were all wet by then (I forget how many hours of rain we had that first night) but at last I grabbed a bit of floor for

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Alston control (quite a way before the village itself) was awesome. I would have enjoyed it more had there not been such a very strong cross wind. As it was, I had to stop twice to ease my hands and shoulders because of braking so much!

have a bed at 2:00am. So, a fellow audaxer (Richard Thomas) and I had a pleasant feed and chat to wile away the time, his companion having found a bit of floor space I think, and then I was shown to a camp bed the far side of many, many bodies over whom we had to step! I did manage some sleep My plan was to get to Eskdalemuir but was awoken at 4:00am (I’d asked before having some more sleep - 94k for a call at 4:30, so it didn’t seem from Alston. I set off with 3 others, as I worthwhile trying to get back to sleep). had been helping the woman during More food and then, bottle filled, I set the afternoon stretch across Yad off at 5:00am for Edinburgh. Moss and believed our pace to be similar. However, either she found her I rode down the valley with John second wind or it was just the climbing Spooner and his Italian companions, that slowed her; either way I struggled chatting for a while. Then, realising I to keep up with them and, for was missing the best scenery the 1st time, began to feel a bit of the ride, I found myself of soreness and also tension in going on ahead and enjoying my shoulders through pushing the mountains. Heavy showers hard on the bike. I lost them followed, together with a when my chain came off on a rainbow where I could actually steep hill on the dark, potholed see the bottom of it touching road to Eskdalemuir. So, for the field to my left. Usually, it the next hour, I rode some, seems to move as you walked some, gazed at the stars approach but this ‘end of the rainbow’ some (they seemed so close) and stayed just where it was! I thought it wondered who that person was was a good omen. There was a secret walking alongside the rocky edge just control on the way where the in front of me (shadow or organisers had ordered many special hallucination?). It was a bit creepy! As cakes decorated for LEL 2009. We we approached the village, a couple were told we did not have to stop here of women I’d spoken with earlier came on the return! by and we hunted the control together. I was really glad of their I reached Edinburgh at 9:30 – four company as this was a very difficult and a half hours after leaving control to find. I never saw this section Eskdalemuir. This point is significant! I of the route in daylight, but I get the was over the moon – hadn’t really feeling the village only consists of a believed I would get to Edinburgh. It’s few houses – and there were NO downhill all the way in to Dalkeith, I lights. noticed. We were given a pack of Scottish biscuits (the beer in Brest No beds available either (it was was better!). A change of clothes, lots almost 1:00am when I arrived); but of food, a chat with Mum, and I set off there was food and I was told I could on the return journey – naively

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confident that I was going to make the whole trip now. Less than 50 hours to get there; 116 hours for the return.

were going to be following on behind. There are a few sharp hills southbound I discovered (unless it was tiredness). It started raining – As I turned to cross the moors / hills again! At some stage Nikki and Sandy back through Traquair and on to passed me but I re-joined them at Eskdalemuir, I felt the full force of the Longtown and said I’d go on so that I gales. I fell into the optional control for could grab their lights for a while when a breather and a hot drink. Before they again went past. However, I reaching Eskdalemuir, there were really started to struggle on the next heavy downpours too and I seriously section. My neck was aching a little bit started to ‘bonk’. Stopped for food, and I was getting wobbly on the bike. thinking I must be nearly there, a rider It was raining and dark enough for known to me was coming northbound lights although not yet night. We had and said ‘It’s only 10k or so now’. That received no benefit at all from the ride seemed a very long way. My plan for being in July and nights being longer that day was not to stop at up north – the weather put paid to Eskdalemuir but to get to Alston (94k that! I had stopped to take the gel further down the line). supplied at the start of the event. I’ve never used one before, so hoped it I arrived at Eskdalemuir at 17:30 – six may help. Nikki and Sandy arrived and a half hours after leaving and, declining their offer to ride Dalkeith! Yes, it had taken almost between them (didn’t want to knock 50% longer to get back along the one of them off!), I tucked in behind same stretch of road, simply because and they towed me quite a way before of the wind. I was greeted with the I again had to stop because I couldn’t information that there were plenty of control the bike. beds available (grin, grin) and that I’d completed the return journey in the Brampton was nearby and, after that, time allowed for the outward section not a lot until Alston – some 20 miles only! That sounded good but my further on. The sensible thing was to concern was that I had arrived at the stop and find somewhere to sleep – time my ‘plan’ had me leaving!! I’d had only 3 hours in total since Saturday night and it was now 22:00 Throughout the ride I had chatted with on Tuesday. I walked into the village. a group of guys from the Netherlands, People are so kind! A couple of riders one of whom had given me a number went out of their way to look for a pub of useful tips. They decided to sleep and came back to tell me where it for a while at Eskdalemuir and let the was. Some riders had already storm blow over (I don’t think it did, stopped at the pub (The White Lion) actually) and suggested I stay too. I and I knew one of them. He didn’t didn’t because, with my dislike of night think a room was available but the riding and not being able to stay with landlord (Syed) took my hand and them, I would have found myself literally pulled me into a closed back alone then. So, I set off at 19:00 in the area of the pub where I had a knowledge Nikki and her friend Sandy bathroom and a double room all to

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myself! He then brought my bike into the hall and did all he could to help. He wanted to cook me food but, when I said a bath and sleep were all I needed, settled with a hot drink at least. I was setting off way before breakfast so tried to pay before leaving him and he would have none of it (the others had paid £40, I am told). [I sent him an LEL polo shirt as

etc. One guy had been taken in by someone in the village for the night! By the time I had eaten and changed into dry clothes etc, my room-mate from the 1st night had caught me up. Both her riding companions had packed and she said she had slowed somewhat, so we decided we would now ride together.

a ‘thank you’ and we have spoken on the phone. He was pleased; “My pleasure Babes” and “You must keep in touch Babes” was his comment!]. The alarm went off at 03:30 (Wednesday). I could hear pouring rain. I re-set the alarm and got up at 04:15. A hot drink and some food from my bag; I was off by 05:00. Alston seemed a long way. My plan had been to be leaving there at this time and to get to Washingborough before stopping for sleep on Wednesday night. This I now revised to be Thorne by midnight. Sadly this would leave 321k for the final day but it couldn’t be helped. Several walks on route to Alston, including the Alston cobbles.

09:30 saw us setting off from Alston into the sideways rain and gale force winds. If I had been on a walking holiday, there is no way I would have set off onto Yad Moss in those conditions – and I don’t stay off the tops easily!

I was so glad and very emotional when I arrived at the control. Heard many stories of rescues during the night and people with hypothermia

Denise is a nurse and we hadn’t gone far before I found I couldn’t move my head to look up to see where I was going! The Voltarol I was carrying, and hadn’t needed for its expected purpose, might help she said. I told her to keep going – these were not conditions in which to hang around – whilst I applied some and also rearranged my buff so it would come up over the back of my head. We thought we would re-unite! WRONG again. That was the beginning of the end of the ride for me – well, after a very long

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and frustrating day getting to the next control that is!

the control were brilliant. Tea was thrust in my hand (after I’d had a huge hug and super welcome); I was shown The Voltarol didn’t work for long; I to a lovely hot shower room and then tried a toe strap from my helmet to the given a neck massage by the control loop on the back of my waterproof – leader. He found a few nasty lumps! that didn’t work at all! So then it was Then food and more drink and we an inner tube around my forehead and started sorting where I would sleep; around my back. Julian Dyson came Mike would give me a lift to Darlington by and really tightened the tube for to get the train the next morning. With me and so I managed to get down my neck as it was, managing the bike from the moor. Coffee in a tea room on and off trains was going to be with a group of Italians warmed me up difficult but, no problem, there was – off the bike, my neck was OK as you room on one of the vans for Bertie – don’t need to pull your head so, all sorted! backwards when you are standing, sitting, walking etc. Back on the bike Arrival then of Mark Brooking and Ray again and it got worse and worse; so I Kelly – drivers of one of the other was walking more and more! Damon, vans. They were having a night off (on the press guy, stopped and re-worked this Wednesday), needing to be at the contraption. Really tight now and I Thorne for midday Thursday. “Do you eventually arrived at Barnard Castle like curry?” asked Mark and, with that, where, he thought, I might be able to I was taken (Bertie too) with them to, I buy a neck brace; but unfortunately knew not where! Turned out they were ‘no’. So, it took me 7.5 hours to ride staying with a friend in Leeds (a 75k! I had used up all my accrued cyclist Mark used to ride with – Jane time in hand (apart from the extra 2 Rampton). So we turned up and, no, hours we were being allowed now due she didn’t know I would be with them to the extreme weather conditions) but said she half expected some ‘lame and there was no way I would reach duck’ to be in tow. Together with her Thorne without a miraculous cure and partner Peter, we had the best curry without riding through the whole night and BEER I have had ever! (As Ian (revised cut-off at Thorne was 06:00). Hennessey said later “If someone’d offered me curry and beer, I think I’d I arrived at Middleton Tyas at 17:00 have packed on the 24hr”). Come and I WAS NOT GOING ANYWHERE 01:00 on Thursday morning, I fell ELSE ON THE BIKE THAT NIGHT. I asleep on a camp bed in Jane’s had thought I would finish the ride if a house for the best 7 hours sleep I had night’s rest cured my neck but Mike had in a long time. Walsh (yes, he was there still – thank goodness!) pointed out I would not get Well, what an adventure. The next to controls before they’d shut up shop day, I helped the guys collect bags so would be entirely alone for the last and transfer food between controls – 430k. I had arrived absolutely soaked grabbing some food where possible. by a hail storm in the last 5k; Saw the views from the van as we shattered; and emotional. The crew at crossed Lincoln but stayed dry

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through the many very heavy showers of the day. We arrived back at Lea Valley tea-time and my decision then had to be – sleep and drive home on the Friday or help through the night and next day at the finish control, sleep Friday night in the room I’d booked at the Travelodge and drive home Saturday? I decided to stay up. I wanted to greet my old friends and new friends as they returned. So, basically that is that. I cycled from London to Edinburgh and back to Yorkshire. I enjoyed the event from both sides and rode further, and in time, than ever before. If the event took place again next year, I would enter now – but it is in 4 years time and I fear I may be a little too old and / or may not be riding the longer events then. We shall have to see. For now, I am just so glad that I have, in my short cycling life, taken part in both PBP and LEL and that I have had such an adventure, and safe return, from both. Postscript: On this event, I rode 969k (606 miles) – a personal ‘best’. Post postscript: The treatment I am undergoing to ‘recover’ my neck is costing more than the event! Post Post postscript: At the recent CTC Bournemouth committee meeting we raised a hearty cheer for Margaret . To compete in this event in these weather conditions is an achievement to be celebrated. EDITOR

Ironman!

By Mike walsh

John Marriner a CTC member from Poole completed the Austrian Ironman event, which he did in style on the 5th July 2009. The Ironman event consisting of a 2.4 miles swim, a 112 miles bike and a marathon (26 miles 385 yards) run, raced in that order without a break. 1:18:34 Swim 6:01:07 Bike 4:19:06 Run 11:51:36 Total Well done John on your achievement. He tells us he is looking to do it all again in two years time.

John Marriner and john Hayter On a pre-Gridiron Ride

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From: Bedfellow on March 05, 2009, 07:12:41 pm Dear Mrs Miles, I have heard whispered rumours of something called a "Loke" or "Lowk" in or near Dorset. I have been unable to ascertain exactly what the nature of this thing is, due to the extreme reluctance of any of my interlocutors to answer my questions about it. Indeed, they sometimes start shaking, & a few have whimpered "the coast, the coast". Can you explain what a "Loke" is, & why it causes such fear? My dearest Bedfellow. Take comfort, friend, as I can help you in this matter. Due to the unpredictable nature of the county, Wessex CTC has developed their own units of measurement: The ‘Shaw’ is an ancient unit by which hardness was and for some, is still measured. Hardness may be a subjective term but the ‘Shaw’ set a benchmark for gratuitous hills, agricultural lanes and relentless pain. AUK members of some years standing still refer to current events in terms of ‘Shaws’ to which newcomers nod their heads but really don’t have a clue. The ‘Callow-metre’ is a relatively new unit of length which is highly variable and dependent on how far stuck out in the wilds you are. One Callow-metre generally equals one kilometer unless you are in a sparsely populated part of the county. For example “Bear left, no sp, 5.5CM (Callow-metres) after bus shelter” could be 5.5km or could be 4 or 7, depending on how tired and confused you are. The ‘Loake’ is a unit that defines the degree of suffering and regret a ride will inflict on a participant. This is very much down to the state of the rider before they start. For example, a rider may suffer 4 Loakes on any Wessex ride which may include i) “why am I riding this at 2 am in the morning” ii) “why didn’t I say ‘no’ to that last bottle of red”, iii) “why do I eat so many pies” and finally, iv)” I hated this last year, why am I doing it again?” Despite this, I can heartily recommend any of the Wessex rides as a means of purging the soul and making your day-to-day life seem that little bit more comfortable. Yours on The Dash to The Ferry, Mrs Miles (yacf.co.uk - Audax & Cyclosportif section.)

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Encounters

By Margaret Phillpotts

. . . with a Driving Instructor I was returning along Whitelegg Way (the 40mph stretch between New Road and Redhill Avenue) when a car passed me. The passenger, a driving instructor, yelled through his open window “Get in the cycle lane”. This was in front of his learner driver, setting an excellent example for courtesy on the road! I yelled back “It isn’t a cycle lane!” Luckily for me, the driver was stopped by a red traffic light, so I rode up to his open window and suggested he find a new instructor as his evidently did not know his Highway Code. Result! Margaret is kicking herself for not remembering the name of the Driving School. Councillor Whitelegg’s ghost lives on methinks. He was notoriously anti-cyclist throughout his public career. EDITOR

Revolutionary Nuts

By Keith Matthews

Some time ago, longer than I care to remember, I bought my titanium bottom bracket and then the hubs for my two new wheels from Royce Engineering out there in New Milton. Actually, it was 1996, and I have not needed one moment of maintenance on them since. Cliff Poulton who runs that little outfit and advertises in our “CycleInk” was sponsoring Nicole Cook at the time and I like to think I use the same components as an Olympic cyclist!

Cliff later sent me a little packet as a sample. In it were five little titanium/aluminium chain ring bolts, beautiful little things. I must confess to just putting them in a drawer at the time and only last month during a burst of bike engineering did I think to fit them. Out fell the clunky old 5.5g steel ones, and in slid the whisper-light 2.5g replacements. I’ve saved 15g of revolving mass. Boy, did that bike sprint after that. Psychology is a wonderful thing! Now all I’ve got to do is lose that 4kg off my tum.

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Informal Wayfarers Rides to Burley This ride happens every Saturday and is completely informal. There is no leader and no back up, but generally an experienced cyclist somewhere around. The route is designed for beginners but joined in by all abilities.

Start 08:45 at Waitrose Supermarket, Christchurch every Saturday Or 09:00 at The Oak PH, Burton

Or just make your own way to the New Forest Tea Rooms, Burley for 10:00

Contributions and Photographs The committee meeting date is the deadline for Newsletter contributions. Editorial policy is to print all contributions, with minimal editing for the purposes of layout only. Contribute by any way you like. Photographs are welcome in any form.

http://www.bournemouthctc.org “CycleInk” is the Newsletter of CTC Bournemouth a division of the CTC Wessex Member Group of the Cyclists’ Touring Club. Published four times a year for members. Views expressed are not necessarily those of the club.

Cycle Ink #154

MORE CYCLING IN FRANCE

BIMBLING THROUGH BURGUNDY

©Penny & Damian Buckley

June 2008

OUR ROUTE, FROM AUXERRE TO DIJON via Chablis, Vezelay, Ch창teau-Chinon, Autun, and Beaune, plus an outing to Nuits-St George

DAY BY DAY SUMMARY Day

Date

From  To

Distance Cycled (kms) (mls)

15 June

Bournemouth  Auxerre via Calais

16 June

Auxerre  Noyers sur Serein

17 June

Noyers sur Serein  Vézelay

18 June

Vézelay  Villiers sur Yonne

19 June

Villiers sur Yonne  Cuzy (by Mornington Croissant)

20 June

Lormes  Château Chinon

21 June

Château Chinon  Autun

22 June

Autun  Beaune

23 June

Restday in Beaune

24 June

Beaune  Dijon

25 June

Trip to Nuits St Georges

26 June

Dijon  Auxerre (by train)

27 June

Auxerre  Reims

28 June

Reims  Bournemouth via Calais

508

315

TOTAL DISTANCE

Pre departure

Our feet are itching to get on the pedals again for another ride in France. We plan to use the Lonely Planet ‘Cycling in Burgundy’ routes, ‘Classic Burgundy’ and ‘Wine Lovers Circuit’ - sounds like a winner already. We shall load the bikes into the car and drive to Auxerre, leaving the car, and ride off into the sunset. It will be a Holiday with Bikes as opposed to the fully paid-up Adventures of the Loire trip or Manche - Med. By this, our fourth long distance ride, we have become quite blasé about preparation but are full of excited anticipation about spending a day with Damian’s cousin, David and wife, Liz, on their boat on the Canal du Nivernais. We’ll book the first and last nights but leave the rest till the morning of each day.

Kit check

Day 1 Bournemouth  Auxerre via Calais

Sunday, 15 June

Bournemouth to Auxerre is nearly 500 miles - a long flog in one day. En route between St Quentin and Reims, we’re astonished to receive a call from Tim telling us he is the Ibis Hotel at Charles de Gaulle! We seriously consider making a detour; it would be such fun to meet him, but although, we are approximately level, we are also some 50 miles to the east of him. We reluctantly decide this is a step too far which would necessitate breaking the journey - why didn’t he tell us earlier?! We last visited Auxerre in 1990. On that occasion, we met Nikki as she returned from the St Peter’s Italy trip. In those far off, premobile days it seemed very daring to arrange to meet in a foreign country. Eighteen years later, Auxerre is just as attractive and, as always, we are delighted to be back in lovely, lovely France. As we walk along the riverbank to find our supper, we come upon the spot were we had a picnic lunch with Nikki after our successful rendezvous. In fact, we have dinner on a boat not far from the spot. I home straight in on the goats’ cheese salad. The Burgundy version is subtly different from its cousins of the south west. Here the cheese is lighter/fluffier and served on a slice of pain d’épice (spiced bread) with a honey dressing and pine nuts, it sounds a strange Street sign combination but it is sublime! The weather forecast is not great, indeed mine host bemoans the late arrival of summer. We consider spending an extra day in Auxerre which, as we have no fixed schedule, is entirely possible and sounds tempting but we can decide tomorrow.

Day 2 Auxerre  Noyers sur Serein

Monday, 16 June 69 kms / 41 mls

We note from the paper that the forecast is wall to wall rain in the département de Yonne - a gloomy prospect but we press on with assembling the bikes which, for travel, had front wheels removed. The weather doesn’t seem too bad and we set off; destination Noyers-sur-Serein. Unfortunately, accommodation is limited to a B&B just out of town. This is not the ideal because of the problems of returning after a lovely French meal and wine; the usual story of beggars and choosers applies. As we leave Auxerre the sun shines and is in the perfect position for the photos.

Bridge over the Yonne, Auxerre

This ride will to take us through the great appellations of Burgundy, just as great as those of the Médoc through which we rode on Manche-Med. We’re soon cruising into Chablis where, the guidebook tells us, “just to smell the cork of the crème de la crème of the grandest of Grand Cru - Grenouille - will probably be beyond our wildest dreams”. Huh, I see! Chablis is a delightful, and not surprisingly, prosperous town, much of the road traffic is machinery for tending the vines - weird looking machines, riding high off the ground.

Our B&B, Moulin de la Roche, is only slightly out of town and I am reminded of our B&B at Thoury on the Loire trip between OrlĂŠans and Chambord. Thoury, though, was well out of town and was the B&B from hell. Moulin de la Roche is a handsome, former mill, lovingly restored including the working mill machinery. Monsieur is pleasant and willingly books a table for our supper in town. He even offers to take us into town, suggesting we call him when we are ready to be collected. This is quite above and beyond anything we expect but demonstrates the great kindness of people. We gratefully accept the lift in - we are starving, but feel we cannot ask him to turn out again, besides, we are happy to walk back. It is mid-summer and light till about 10.30 pm, a great advantage to holidaying at this time of the year: it is great to be walking. We have boeuf bourgignonne, an unseasonal choice for mid June but this is strangely unseasonal weather.

Moulin de la Roche, Noyers sur Serein

Day 3 Noyers sur Serein ď&#x192; VĂŠzelay

Tuesday, 17 June 51 kms / 31 mls

Breakfast is a rather limited affair but that is the way in French B&Bs. It has rained overnight and it feels cool and fresh. We ride back to explore Noyers, a pretty town with an abundance of delightful corners.

Images of Noyers sur Serein

We leave Noyers bound for Avallon and tonight’s destination, Vézelay. We both feel we are making rather heavy weather of the cycling. It is, after all, only 30 miles for the day not really arduous, and nothing in comparison to 60 miles a day of previous trips - can it be we’re getting old? The road from Avallon to Vézelay is hard and the last 5 kms might warrant *LSA classification but while it is quite steep, it is relatively short, so does not really earn it. Vézelay became a UNESCO world heritage site in 1979. It is not unlike Le Mont St Michel. Think towering edifice to Christianity at the summit of steep narrow road. The Basilica is the resting place for the remains of Mary Magdalen; it is awe inspiring. Without wishing to sound unduly pious, I am struck that, wherever I go in the world, I can find myself part of this great, wonderful Christian tradition. I feel proud and a little bit humble, it is so big. Naturally enough, Vézelay became a place of pilgrimage and was a main assembly point for the Chemin de Compostela. In the twenty-first century both of the above still apply; there is an active community of Franciscan nuns. It is also a ‘honey pot’ site for tourists. *Lung Searing Ascent – as defined on the first day of our first long-distance ride in France (the Loire from Source to Sea).

We have booked into Les Glycines, the Wisterias, whose frontage is covered with a magnificent 150 year old wisteria. It is charmingly French, no dusty flock wallpaper here, and Madame has won our appreciation by agreeing to do our washing. By the time we have finished supper, VĂŠzelay is much quieter. In France, it is only in the big cities that there is any sort of nightlife. We are often surprised that even towns of modest size are pretty empty by 9.00 pm. The day-visitors have gone and the residents are safely tucked up in their houses. We walk round the ramparts of the Basilica at sunset - the views are fantastic.

Day 4 Vézelay  Villiers sur Yonne

Wednesday, 18 June 30 kms / 18 mls

We have agreed to meet Liz and David at the bridge over the canal in Villiers-sur-Yonne where they are moored and we’re excited at the thought of spending a night on the Mornington Croissant. What a brilliant name; tribute to Humphrey Littleton and I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue. Liz told us that people have been surprised and not a little disappointed to discover that the person emerging from the boat has turned out not to be ‘Humph’. Before we leave Vézelay, we allow ourselves a couple of hours to finish looking round. As always, we are struck by the talent the French have for creating a flowery, tranquil space in the most unpromising of situations, no corner is too small not to be prettified with geraniums and petunias; not even weather, flaking paintwork nor crumbling stonework can manage to diminish the whole charming picture. Vézelay is celebrating music this weekend and the town is suitably decked out to proclaim this. I spot this doorway where the ‘writing’ is in mares’ tails. Who would think that most hated and pernicious of weeds could ‘morph’ into something so delicate and artistic? Congratulations to the person who thought of it!

The sun is shining and we are cruising through ‘big sky’ country until we somehow end up travelling at least two miles along forest tracks. Fine for off-roaders, not so good for us. OC Maps chose the wrong fork, where none was marked, but when we eventually surface into the daylight it is exactly where Damian expects. The countryside round here is very reminiscent of north Germany, east of Braunschweig. We both think back 36 years, about the rhubarb field from which we scrumped pounds of fruit and I made jam.

The last part of the ride is along the Canal du Nivernais: memories of last year and the Canal du Midi rush back - that really was the most wonderful adventure. We see the Croissant moored at the appointed bridge. Liz and David welcome us aboard their lovely boat which David has planned himself and fitted out expertly and beautifully. It seems that no detail has been overlooked or luxury spared. Cruising the canals of France seems to me a most agreeable way to pass the summer. The sun is shining and we spend a happy afternoon on the aft deck under a parasol sipping Pimms, interrupted occasionally by a flock of orphan ducklings who require feeding. David’s sister and husband, who have a gîte nearby, join us, so Liz rustles up more Pimms. . . . . . .Bye-bye brains!!

Day 5 Thursday, 19 June Villiers sur Yonne  Cuzy (on Mornington Croissant) Cuzy  Lormes 29 kms / 18 mls

We wake after a most comfortable night; our cabin is so well appointed with en suite bathroom and fully functioning appliances. Thankfully, I am not expected to co-ordinate pumping water with my foot while lathering my body with soap! This seems incredible; my last experience of sailing, before we were married, was hideously primitive. Then, the only running water was that rushing past the side of the boat. David attends to admin tasks like connecting up the hose to the pipe on the bank to fill the boat’s water tanks and we’re off. Our progress down the Canal du Nivernais is stately and happily I am not required to do anything but enjoy the view. It is so relaxing; I love it! We negotiate locks and a lifting bridge. Liz’s task is to race on ahead by bike to arrive at these obstacles before the Croissant gets there. We sit there and watch it all happen!

Our destination for the day is Cuzy. We shall have lunch and take our leave of the Croissant, heading for Lormes in the Morvan. It’s

incredibly tempting to stay sitting on the sunny deck sipping Pimms but we do have some sort of schedule to keep to. It is not far to Lormes but the last 6 kms are a steep hill, again not quite LSA but, again, we make a bit of a meal of it. Hotel Perreau turns out to be typical of the genre, a Logis with all the hallmarks of past glory, flock wall paper, faded red velour chairs and customary stygian “lighting” in the bedroom but we have a big bath heaven - and later an excellent meal, these are the important things for cyclists. After supper we walk round the town. Sadly, many shops ceased trading some time ago, and the town has a rather dusty, dejected air. Over the last ten years, on our travels round France, we have noticed a growing trend for individual, specialist shops to close. This is only mirroring the situation in England where faceless consumer “paradises” are luring us out-of-town.

Day 6 Lormes  Château Chinon

Friday, 20 June 73 kms / 45 mls

It’s a cloudy start and a portion-control breakfast but Monsieur is willing to give us more of everything. We get away at 9.45 am, not very good but we do not have the same pressures on us this time as Manche-Med. The Undiscovered France guide says ‘nothing good ever came out of the Morvan’ this seems at best, rather uncharitable and at worst a complete untruth. The countryside has had National Park status for 25 years and, particularly at this time of year, is lovely. We are bowled over by the profusion of wild flowers - vetches, orchids, nettles, etc, etc that are part of early summer. While comparisons are always odious, there seems to be more variety here than we find in the New Forest or Dorset countryside. However, we do miss the harvest of free goodies which a September ride brings plums, grapes, apples, blackberries even peaches. We cycle many kilometres upwards alongside the River Cure as it tumbles down through glitteringly sylvan glades and bucolic pastures of grazing Charolais cattle. Beside the Cascade de Gouloux

We arrive at St Brisson at lunch time. It’s another rather sad village with several properties, once serving the commercial needs of the village, now up for sale. L’Hostellerie Le Beursonnière looks much like the rest of village, slightly past it; we guess it enjoyed its last makeover circa 1955. We are both sad to see so many French villages in this area dying. The French post office, the PTT is a stand-alone enterprise and sets its opening hours according to local need. It can still be found in the smallest of villages. We have seen bars, butchers, drapers, ironmongers and more fall victim to the super markets. Astonishingly, hairdressers seem immune to the malaise and no village worthy of the name is without this last bastion of commercial endeavour. It is like Burton, Shapwick, Milton Abbas et al, all having a hairdresser of their own. As we are leaving, a young German woman arrives on a bike, wanting to know the way to Corbigny, which we know is not far from where we left the Croissant yesterday. She is cycling to Compostela. Last year she cycled Frankfurt to Dijon and is covering Dijon to Compostela this year. She is interested in our venture and general ‘mode d’emploi’. For our part we are full of admiration for her fortitude at undertaking the journey alone. There are times when we have needed each other not only for moral support but also to share enjoyment. Stephanie seems to be using the archetypical shopping bike with wire front Giant clog at Gouloux Clog-makers’ Museum basket and her

whole route to Compostela is on one map sheet (for comparison, we have five for our bit of Burgundy!). We are happy to give her a tourist map on which Damian marks her route fairly accurately. We swap email addresses and a photo and guess that she may belong to a religious order; she has that unfurrowed countenance of someone who has not had children.

We leave St Brisson missing the Museum of the Resistance which I would have liked to see, but do pass the wood carving museum. We decide to make a run for Château Chinon, the final 6 kms of which fully qualify for LSA status and shreds our knees and bottoms comprehensively. However, this will be as nothing in comparison to the climb to Mt Beuvray tomorrow where the ascent is 20%. This is steeper than anything on any previous ride; we will need not just ‘granny’ gears but ‘great granny’ gears.

Day 7 Château Chinon  Autun

Saturday, 21 June 57 kms / 35 mls

Le Vieux Morvan is probably going to win ‘worst-of-trip’ award stingey breakfast where the croissants look as though they have come from a multi-pack. The most interesting fact Chateau Chinon can lay claim to, is that François Mitterand was mayor here before becoming President of France. The only item mentioned in the guide is the Daliesque fountain which is certainly wacky, whether it will still be working in 100 years is debateable - only time will tell. Daliesque fountain

Today we have the mother and father of all LSAs up Mt Beuvray, to the excavations of roman fortifications of Bibracte. Julius Caesar once visited and, if he did, then Penny and Damian are not going to miss out; we’re fully confident it will be worth all the effort. At 800 m high, we can only just manage to push the bikes the last part of the way and even briefly consider both of us pushing one bike at a time. Sadly, and this probably marks us out as Philistines, the massive effort on our part is not worth it, the whole thing seems to be vastly over-hyped. There are, however, fine views from the top.

Memorial at the top of Mont Beuvray. On this hilltop are the ancient roman fortifications of Bibracte

The payback of the hard ascent is the long effortless descent all the way to Autun. Tonight we are in another Vieux Moulin on the banks of the Arroux. Autun is celebrating La FĂŞte de la Musique this weekend and all restaurants and bars have a musician or group to entertain the clientele. To accommodate the crowds, benches and tables are laid out in serried ranks in front of every establishment. Everyone but everyone, from grannies to babies, are out to see and be seen; rarely have we seen a French town so thronging after 8.30 pm. The air is balmy and it is great to be sitting out. We finish up at the Irish Pub a ubiquitous establishment, popular in many continental towns and start talking to a German couple, a Lebanese girl and a Frenchman. Interestingly, it is the women and Damian who speak anything other than their mother tongue. The German couple are cycling from Paris to Nuremburg, carrying their tent and equipment with them - as always this seems a hard, uncomfortable way to spend ones holiday and, to my mind, certainly not fun.

Day 8 Autun  Beaune

Sunday, 22 June 60 kms / 38 mls

Breakfast at Le Vieux Moulin is a portion-control affair and a request for more food elicits a fleeting look of astonishment. It’s a beautiful dining room but we suspect dinner would have been all hushed reverential tones had we eaten here last night. All the signs of gaiety that was Autun last night have vanished. It is as if it never happened. Where do all those benches and tables spend the rest of the year? We are finally away by 12.30 p.m., somewhat late, as we have 34 miles to cover to Beaune. As we leave the outskirts of Autun, the wonderful smells of barbeques overtake us. Briefly, I wish I too could be sitting on some shady terrace enjoying a bbq. The weather is oppressively humid and it feels as if we are pushing through warm syrup. We are bowling along and I spot the German couple of last night pedalling up behind us. We chat briefly and Damian and I try to lift their bikes, incredibly each set of luggage and supplies weighs 25 kilos. This makes our 8 kilos each seem like a day trip; I have no desire to do it their way. Our entry into Beaune is along the prettiest of back roads between the vines, passing Chateau Pommard. Beaune is the centre of the Burgundy wine trade and it guards its supremacy The road jealously. We learn that land into Beaune hereabouts is measured in ‘parcels’, much smaller than a hectare, to allow for differentiation between soils, orientation and the amount of sunshine, wind and frost to which the grapes exposed.

Day 9 Rest Day in Beaune

Monday, 23 June

Beaune is too interesting a town to whistle through and we decide to take a rest day. First, though, we change rooms for some airconditioned luxury; Last night was suffocatingly hot. First stop has to be the Hotel Dieu, the Hospice founded in 1443 by all round good egg, Nicholas Rolin. The Hotel Dieu has the eponymous glazed tile roof captured on a thousand post cards. It is stunningly beautiful and we are somewhat surprised to learn that, way back in the 15th century, sick people were looked after so well.

Corner of the courtyard of the Hotel Dieu

Looking to the other end of the Hotel Dieu

Trompe lâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;oeuil on a wall in Beaune

We spend a lovely day enjoying this beautiful town devoted to wine and all things vinous. The streets are populated with shops and caves for dégustations of the premiers crus. This is where the wine auction by candlelight takes place, not that the proceedings are illuminated by candles but bids last only as long as it takes for two small candles to burn. How long is it before the Health and Safety Mafia get wind of this reckless exposure to fire and ban it? Some great names of Burgundy wine

Tomorrow we must make an exceptionally early start as it’s 60 kms to Dijon and, if the weather is anything like today’s, we must have the major part of it safely under our belts by lunchtime before the severe heat of the day.

Day 10 Beaune ď&#x192; Dijon

Tuesday, 24 June 66 kms / 66mls

We have achieved an all-time personal best and are on the road at 8.30 am. If it becomes as hot as yesterday, it will be essential to stop for at least two hours at lunch time to keep out of the sun. We have the standard portion-control breakfast: extras are given with bad grace. We are soon bowling along quiet roads enjoying again the flowers, which have been such a feature of this trip. Unfortunately, while Damian is capturing the ultimate shot of an orchid, requiring the help of his charming lady assistant, she catches a foot in a trailing stem and falls headlong into the road. This is not clever and I am well aware it could have been much worse - happily the only real casualty is my glasses. For the run into Dijon, we join the canal de Bourgogne which provides an excellent piste cyclable for 30 kms at least, right to the centre of Dijon. I love bowling along the waterside, reminding me so much of the Canal du Midi on our Manche-Med trip.

Beside the Canal de Bourgogne

Passing one of the locks on the Canal, we see the Amaryllis, a complete floating gin palace only just able to fit inside the lock

length and width-ways. It is astonishing in every way. It has a swimming pool, and deck with teak table and chairs. As we arrive the two-man crew provide the floor show as they deal with the nittygritty of boat/lock management. At the other end of the boat, in the galley, a couple of girls are bustling around. I am amazed: in the middle is a stateroom, with beautiful table where the family, including baby in high chair, is having luncheon. It is unashamed, jaw-dropping luxury; the canal boating equivalent of the luxury boats which moor up in St Tropez harbour. However, while it is undoubtedly luxury on the grand scale, I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t help feeling the occupants are missing so much, closeted away inside. I thought half the fun was getting close up and personal with wet ropes and engaging with the ĂŠclusiers: have I got that wrong?

Dijon is the only major city of this trip and finding the centre is relatively easy, perhaps we’re just becoming more proficient? For some reason that we never discovered, there seem to be only two available beds in Dijon tonight, one so absurdly cheap it must come with its own bed bugs and the other at an out-of-town commercial centre. This turns out to be Dijon’s equivalent of York Road, Baltimore and Fleetsbridge industrial estate, Poole; ports and storms come to mind. Damian takes us to the Hotel Kyriad faultlessly. If he earned the Légion d’Honneur for map reading on Manche-Med, it must now be ‘avec palme’ for negotiating Dijon. Once achieved, I am excited, and secretly rather proud, to think that we have mastered another French city, à vélo. Before abandoning ourselves to our supper, we plan the next two days and our return to Auxerre. There are several permutations, but all hinge on the optimum way of seeing the sights and not having to carry our panniers with us or make an extra trip back to the Kyriad to collect them. The solution seems to be a ride to Nuits St Georges tomorrow and to see Dijon in the morning of the following day. The critical and, at the moment, unknown key of the plan is, can we book the room for another night. There is no Plan B. We have a great, if rather pretentious, supper. Damian has ordered his steak to be cooked à point these past 37 years, but Hotel Sauvage sees the need to stab a cow-shaped label, with the legend ‘à point’, in to a cube of pinky-orangecoloured polenta and place it beside the steak! De trop or what!? Steak à point

Day 11 Trip to Nuits St Georges

Wednesday, 25 June 72 kms / 45 mls

Happily, we learn that we can have the room for another night; Plan A is a ‘flier’. In addition, Monsieur has spoken to the Kyriad in Dijon, fortuitously, just opposite the station, and negotiated that we can take our panniers and leave them there for the morning. This is wonderful; he even offers to take them in his van whilst we do something else, but we need the confidence of knowing that we put them there. Today we set off on the Route des Grands Crus. I am full of excitement and feel this is the Burgundy equivalent of cycling up the Médoc to Pauillac. I love being amongst the vines, so carefully tended, and bowling along little country roads, passing through towns and villages. We stop for a visit at Clos Vougeot. This lovely chateau has been part of the landscape for 800 years. It is now home to the Brotherhood of the Tastevin Knights. To the uninitiated, these chaps take themselves rather seriously, all regalia and arcane practices but all no doubt harmless and not much different from Masons, Catenians, Cubs, Scouts or any other like-minded group of men - it’s obviously ‘a man thing’. On the Route des Grands Crus

We make a 30 km detour to see the Monastery at Citeaux. After leaving the Route des Grands Crus, the countryside is mostly arable and rather dull - definitely not worth the effort. Next stop is Nuits

The Grape Picker at Clos Vougeot

St Georges, an attractive town. The signs of prosperity built on wine are evident - roads paved with setts, plenty of flowers and stylishly decorated Domaines and Caveaux offering dĂŠgustations. Also, happily, a noticeable lack of property for sale.

Bronze statue of grape pickers

Day 12 Dijon  Auxerre (by train)

Thursday, 26 June

It is the last day of our adventure, but getting back into Dijon will be adventure enough. I love the excitement of being in major cities. To date we have conquered Nantes, Tours, Bordeaux and Toulouse. It is good to see that so many cities are taking positive steps to accommodate bikes. Gone are the days when to ride a bike might have been considered slightly cranky. We leave the panniers and bikes at the hotel and have about four hours to look round on foot.

The Cycle Rank - part of Dijon’s green transport plan

Dijon is a lovely city and I cannot resist a visit to Galleries Lafayette, though I do feel uncomfortably conspicuous in Lycra when most shoppers are looking stylish and soigné. We have a long lunch in Place Emile Zola, a lovely, typically French square, with shady lime trees, fountain, tables and umbrellas, all overlaid with warm sun and that wonderful French buzz. I love it and could sit

for hours watching the Dijonais at leisure. Eventually, we pick up the bikes and head for the station. There is still a slight frisson to train travel with bikes; will there be racks, will there be space, will there be enough time to get on board. We settle down and a slight delay in departure provides the ideal opening gambit for conversation. One of my fellow travellers tells me that his father lives opposite Paddy Ashdownâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s French property; itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s useless information but allows us both to practise our other-than-mother tongues. Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re soon back in Auxerre and anxious to know if the car still has four wheels and windscreen wipers. Fortunately, it has all these, unfortunately, the battery is completely dead - thank heavens for insurance! Pretty Dijon architecture

Day 13 Auxerre ď&#x192; Reims (by car)

Friday, 27 June

We plan on breaking our return journey at Reims, Champagne Central. Before leaving Auxerre on a brilliant day, we walk the Cadet Roussel trail, following the arrows in the pavement. We first walked one of these trails in Boston, USA. There, the Freedom Trail is particularly good. Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re not slavish about doing these signed routes but they have been carefully thought out by tourist offices, to take in the most interesting buildings of any town. We see pretty angles and corners we might otherwise have missed, as well as the medieval Clock Tower and Cadet Roussel fountain. Cadet, because he was the youngest of the family, Roussel was a bailiff in Auxerre in

mid 18th Century. The song about him became famous as a marching song for soldiers during the French Revolution.

As always, the town is dressed overall with flower baskets and troughs which, I note with amazement, are watered manually by three men and a mobile water bowser. How marvellous that the French consider the beauty of their town worthy of the pay of three men. I would be happy if my council tax was spent this way. We leave Auxerre at the end of another great holiday.

That evening, as we walk round Reims looking for our supper, we recognise the statue in the niche as Jean Baptiste de la Salle. The founder of the Order which taught the children at St Peterâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s.

Day 14 Reims  Bournemouth via Calais

Saturday 28 June

This really is the end of the holiday. We make a quick shopping trip to the Carrefour and high-tail it for Calais, managing to catch an earlier boat getting us home in slightly better time. Another lovely adventure come to an end. What can we do next? Someone on this trip suggested the Jura mountains. ‘Jura’ sounds OK, it’s the ‘mountains’ bit with which I am having the problem. Perhaps we should try the Danube river or perhaps we shall just take a gîte in the south of France - we shall see.

Some of the lovely wild flowers

Postscript Nearly two months after returning from France, we receive an email from Stephanie, the German girl whom we’d met in St Brisson. She had arrived successfully in Compostela and gone on to Finisterre. She sent us this picture taken of her at the ‘End of the Earth’