Country Joe and the Fish

You cannot imagine the relief when your train actually turns up, your reserved cycle space is actually there, you're moving very fast westward and you're listening to Country Joe and the Fish. After two very unpleasant days, that feels very, very good.

En route, a brat decided to fiddle with my bike. When I told him to stop, his dad said 'he's only a little boy', so I suggested maybe the fault lay elsewhere. People, don't you just love them. Or maybe - and this is unlikely - I'm a right grumpy bastard.

Bad planning - again
When I booked my ticket - incidentally, the English version of the SNCF website says you can't reserve bike space online, but the French version lets you do just that - at the end of the booking, they suggested 'partner hotels' which could be added to the booking. As one seemed astonishing value, I did just that. Foolishly, I assumed that, if you were coming by train, it would be close to the station. It isn't.

So that's kind of it. It's about a 2hr cycle to Roscoff, apparently lovely, so hoping for good weather. I wonder - doubtless you do too - why I do these things. But in the long run, everything is pointless, isn’t it? I must say, I'm looking forward to being home again.

FIN

Twinning

How does it work? I could just about see how Magny-en-Vexin could be twinned with Chipping-Norton (see earlier blog) but today I noticed that Vernouillet is twinned with Cheddar. Now I don't know if you have been to Cheddar. I admit it is somewhat touristy, but it is fundamentally ok. Vernouillet is like Slough but without the charm of many Indian restaurants, and, of course, the legendary Trading Estate. I bet it wasn't Cheddar who asked first, I'm just amazed they said 'yes'. Later, I went through La Loupe, twinned with Royston, so I had to take a picture for Roy, but it's on my phone and this cheapskate place only allows one device to connect to the Internet. So, sorry, no pictures today.

Last night, after the pichet de rouge, I thought 'sod it, I'm going to cycle the whole way'. This morning, it was raining hard so I had a bit of a change of heart. I've booked a bike space on the train from Le Mans to Morlaix, so I've sort of given up. I still have to get from here (La Ferté Bernard) to Le Mans by lunch time, but an early start should sort that.

Like du Maurier's curate's egg, it's been a very mixed trip. Lovely seeing Thessa and Marie and Stan, but overall spoilt by the weather. Favourite stages? Oddly, Holland. Cycling is a dream there and you always feel safe on the road. And it's flat, although there is a hill if you look very hard. And the Dutch are, well, nice. On the whole, the French treat cyclists with more respect than the English, but their suicidal driving style and astounding lack of anticipation does not relax. I think when the French take the driving test, they should always be told they've failed.

So, Philip, I hope that answers your question, and thank you for posting.

Finally, I know why there are no Cuckoos in England, they've all moved to France in anticipation of Brexit.

Evening all.

Tomorrow, the final edition. Will the perfidious, striking French keep our hero from home and slippers?

Thanks Geoffrey

I'm sure you have other things to do with your life, but thanks for commenting.

The IPA was fine, better than Heineken, that's for sure!

Pichet de rouge

This will be brief.
Have you noticed how much better everything seems after a bottle of red? Just a thought.
Lovely meal on the terrace of an Italian restaurant overlooking the Renault used car lot. Nice touch.

Unravelling

Both me and the trip.
I confess to a certain amount of knackerdom. Being emotional and impulsive, the decision is 'home, James'. Unfortunately, James isn't around and I am not keen on cycling the outstanding 520 km to Roscoff. Normalement, one would pop on a train, but it's not that easy. The Frogs are, comme d'habitude, on strike, so one has to turn up at the station and see if there's a train. So I can't book anything until I know the outcome. Merde, alors, with a bit of putain thrown in for good measure. Zut!

I have a brilliant but cheap hotel. The down side is that it's in an out of town shopping centre and you can't really get into town on foot.

Sorry to moan, I'm tired and hungry.

Some of yesterday's photos :

bus shelter handy during a storm.
L'Oise
Rather fine cloth hall in Compiègne.
You wouldn't believe you were so close to Paris.
The Seine is down there somewhere.

Three rivers today, Oise, Eure and Seine.

Anyway, I’m off for some scoff.

On the nature table
Poor dead Moley.

Evening all.
PS Dreux

PPS

I forgot to say, I'm in Magny-en-Vexin, which proudly proclaims itself twinned with Chipping-Norton (sic). It has the advantage of a complete lack of Rebekah Brooks, Call me Dave and chums.

Posted twice

God knows why.

Urgences

A troublesome day. Starts off cold, which is great for cycling, but gets hotter and hotter as the day goes on.

I decided this year that 100km per day is too much, so decided on 80km as the new goal. Goals are meant to be broken. Today I did 115,and I van tell you, it really is too much.

The worst bit was along a 'cycle path' and I use the expression loosely. I should have given up at the fallen tree, but being a bloke, there can be no turning back. When I eventually rejoined the tarmac, I spent half an hour scraping the mud off the bike, and me.

While I was cycling, I suddenly, and I do mean suddenly, noticed that my tongue was swelling up. I initially thought it was maybe a thirst problem, but it wasn't. By the time I got to the hotel, I could only speak with a lithp, charming in Spanish, but odd-sounding in French. After unpacking and scraping the smell off, I hastened to the pharmacy. He said I should go to les urgences as it could be serious, but detecting reticence on my part, he sold me the world's most expensive mouth wash. Will I make it through the night? Only time will tell.

For some reason, my phone won't connect to the Internet, so I can't upload today's pictures, but here are some I made earlier.

Charming roof ornaments spotted whilst scoffing a bun.
says it all, really.
Trusty steed on bridge over aforementioned Somme.

Graham, thank you for the comment. Yes, carriage duly spotted. What an utter disaster that was, wasn't it? WW1 should never have started, but what a bollocks the Armistice was. French revenge has a lot to answer for.

Anyway, that’s all, folks. Amitiés

Euphoria evaporates

Ignore what I said about how lovely the Nord is. Well, it was certainly nice from the Belgian border to St Quentin, but today has been largely the north that I remember from school holidays before the autoroutes were opened. Lots of rolling countryside, big fields with boring crops of wheat or lettuce. One noticeable change is how few shops and bars there are en route. I have seen one of each in 80km.

Staying at an Airbnb this evening and the bloke won't be there until 1730 so I'm sitting beside the Aisne just outside Compiègne, slowly falling asleep. Were I to be restricted to two adjectives to describe last night's hotel, I would go for 'compact' and 'noisy'. Why do people need to start - and rev - their engines then have a long conversation before going home? When I'm in charge of everything, it will be law that people's cars blow up if they hoot the horn after 9pm.

Sorry, no free Wi-Fi tonight, so no pictures, as I'm a cheapskate.
Mediocre meal in Compiègne, but nice watching the world go by.

Tired and sleepy, so... evening all

Chez les ch'tis

I never really saw the point of the North of France. I saw it as an irritating but necessary stepping stone to where you really wanted to be, ie the South of France. How wrong I was.

First of all, apologies for the radio silence. Rest assured that I spent my time wisely, sampling Marie's wonderful cooking and Stan's wine cellar. Amazingly, no real problems arose through over-indulgence, though I did fall down the stairs, but that was this morning, therefore not drink related. We had some fun, but either they were going to have to adopt me, or I had to move on. So I did.

Marie looking thoughtful over pre-lunch drinks


This evening I'm at St Quentin, one of the places we normally flash past on the way to somewhere else. Don't. It's nice. Pleasant square with a Cloth Hall and nice bars and restaurants around. As always in France, and contrary to popular opinion, the people are pleasant, too. You just have to make a bit of an effort.

It's been a tough day. Very hot and humid, and I ran out of water, which is stupid and unforgivable. Fortunately, a shop appeared as if by magic at the moment of maximum despair.

The Nord département is lovely, rolling landscape, pretty and quiet, as is the adjoining bit of Belgium. I had a couple of long cycle tracks along former railways and also went along the Oise for a bit you can't knock it.




I'm going to do a party political broadcast now on behalf of the Remain cause. I might alienate some of you, if so, I'm sorry. I love the EU. It's got it's problems, that's for sure, but it's welded together disparate people into a Union of which we should be proud. Wandering around the last week, it's all so easy. Compare it to how things used to be with border crossings and bags full of different currencies. I love it! It's a force to be reckoned with and I hope it remains. Let's face it, it's not EU migrants who are the problem.

Anyway, you might disagree, and I'm sorry if you do. I'm not going to argue, I'm on holiday.

On the Nature Table
I'm sorry, I'm giving up. There is no nature. Another cuckoo, but we've done those. Pleased to see many more cows in the fields in France, compared to cows in jails in Holland. What price cheap food, eh?

Evening all.

Gor blimey

This won't be my finest piece of work, I'm afraid. No pictures, no narrative, no description. Why post at all, I hear you ask. Simple. Drink, Internet access and enforced leisure have coincided, and we all know what a heady mixture that is..

Met Stan in Huy after a depressingly tough day's cycling. I can't be bothered to go into the deterioration in the relationship between my GPS and me, but trust me, I'm the innocent party here.

Anyway, the central theme since has had a thread, no, a river of drink running through it, plus excellent food. I'm seeking help here... What do I do next, stay here forever, or say farewell to fun and hit the road again? In the meantime, mine's a large one.

Love you all, no, honestly... I really love you

In Bourlers, Belgium, for the carpers who have complained of lack of detail.

The Maas - again

You might have heard there have been some storm-ettes sur le continent. I can vouch this to be the case. I have seldom seen it rain so hard and the noise was incredible. It went on all night and eventually stopped about 930. So that's when I left. It's been unpleasantly humid all day, but hasn't actually rained. Hélas, that is not the case for tomorrow. I have to confess I am getting a wee bit hacked off with it.

I use a dedicated cycling GPS. It can best be described as quirky. It took me on the most vile route along a road infested with heavy vehicles. I put up with its nonsense for about 20km before intervening. 'surely' I asked, 'there must be a better option than this?' And I can assure you, I asked in a most querulous tone. 'Well,' it said, 'we could go on the cycle path along the Maas if you would prefer.' So we did. Don't get me wrong, we're not talking upper reaches of the Thames or a Hampshire chalk stream, but it was a bloody site better than Juggernaut Heaven. Unlike yesterday, this was a proper path, so perfectly ok for a road bike. Not a lot of choice of places to eat, but I did find a chip shop run by Indonesians, and had frites with a bami goreng. Not bad at all.

Crossed back and forth between Holland and Belgium (or Holland and Barrett as my predictive keyboard prefers) and Holland certainly seems the more prosperous of the two. On the basis you don't miss it till you lose it, Holland is a dream for cycling, cars just give way, you hardly need to look. Dedicated cycle paths everywhere. Not so in Belgium, I'm afraid. Still miles better than the UK, though.

The Maas is a working river. Although it's not pretty, it's interesting to see all the stuff that's moved by river, and it makes one thankful it's not going by road. An option we just don't have, unfortunately.

My B&B is conveniently situated at the top of a very steep hill in a village with a café that only opens on Fridays. Luckily I have some emergency rations thanks to Pat, and a bottle of Chimay I didn't drink yesterday. Oh, it's in Richelle, Belgium, not far from Liège. I keep forgetting to mention things like this, but because I know, it doesn't necessarily mean you do.

On the nature table
Well, we could do bullfrogs again, but we've already had them. I did pass an enclosure outside a factory with about a dozen roe deer in it, all looking miserable. How could anyone have thought that was a good idea.

If I had to describe today, I would go for 'harmless'.

I've just been talking to my friend Stan who lives near Chimay. I'm meeting him tomorrow and putting the bike in his car and staying with him a Marie for a few days. The forecast is not great so this seems sensible. They don't even have a phone, so you shall have to wait for a while to hear what happens next. One thing I can guarantee, it will involve drink. In copious amounts.

Some snaps:

bizarrely, these were in the forecourt of a garage.

don't see many of these any more.

another day, another country. It still has a certain frisson for me.

outskirts of Maastricht, a most attractive town.

rather good graffiti, about speed cameras, I think.

Evening all.

Travelling South for the good weather.

That was ironic, by the way. Bit of a curate's egg sort of a day. Sad farewell to the B&B in Kranenburg and a weather eye on, well, the weather. The forecast was appalling. This was the B&B by the way.

The plan was to go to Groesbeek and pick up the cycle path along the Maas... a good idea in principle, but it was very rough going. It would have been ok on a mountain bike, but on my road bike, heavily laden, something was going to break. In the end, it became a race against the rain, and I averaged 20kph for 80km,which I think is pretty bloody good.

I do, honestly, like Holland. I lived here happily. God, it's ugly, though. There are some lovely bits... see below... but I am beginning to have had my fill of industrial estates and, indeed, very industrialised farming, but I won’t go on about that.

My kip for the night is just superb, see below. Only €54. Really.

Bought a few bottles of Chimay and the makings of a cheap but nourishing scoff. Who could ask for more?

On the nature table
Not a sausage.

Evening all.

I was going to put them on the nature table, but who would believe me?

A pretty bit.

Lest we forget. Lots of fighting around here.

the B&B

Captain's log, supplemental

Gosh, been a long time since I was on a date with an attractive young girl. Her father even rang to make sure my intentions were good.

Thank you, Thessa, for a lovely evening. The guided tour was a nice touch, and the curry was pretty damned good.

Nijmegen is a jumping town, add it to your list of places to visit.

Night, all.

Philosophical

Some observations for you:

1/ why is it we do public transport in England worse than most places in Europe?

2/ Why am I the only person who actually likes Germany? If you haven't been, go there. It's relatively cheap, people are pleasant and by and large, it's very pretty. I'm in Kranenburg now, just inside Germany across the river from Nijmegen. It's lovely. If this were Sussex, the cheapest house would be a million. Here, it won't. Not by a long chalk. Anyway, that's my bit for the German Tourist Board. If you don't come, it's your loss.

The weather has gone from cold and wet to hot and humid. If there isn't a storm soon, I shall be surprised. I expect it's waiting until I hit the road.

Tonight, I'm taking my dearest friend Ad's daughter Thessa for a meal. Not having (thank Christ!) kids of my own, she's the nearest I have to a daughter. I've had the delight of watching her grow up with none of the tedious responsibilities that go with it, nor the cost.

And on the nature table: a cuckoo! My first this year. Very late. Haven't heard one in Cornwall, though Pat says she did yesterday.

Evening all.

Gosh. Another exciting adventure sur le continent.
I don’t know quite why, being of a scientific bent, I don't believe in fate, but every time I set off on my bike, the weather nosedives wherever I am and becomes positively balmy at home.

I was so tired I slept through both calls on the boat and were it not for some noisy brats in the corridor, I would probably be back in the UK now. However, as is always the case, I needn't have panicked as the only benefit of heeding the calls would appear to be a greater opportunity to queue.

It was 8 degrees in Hoek when we eventually got away, with a stonking headwind, which continued all day, of course.

I used to live in Holland, well Amsterdam to be specific, which isn't the same thing at all. I really got into Amsterdam, so much so that I seldom left the place. Today was a revelation, I would never have imagined one country could have so many industrial estates. They're ok, but after a while you've had enough. I'm grasping for some positives, and there are some... the Dutch. They're like us, but nicer. Helpful and cheerful, so despite a somewhat unprepossessing start, I still have to say it... I love Holland.

A popular section of last year's blog was 'On the nature table', well Darren said it was slightly interesting. Anyway...

ON THE NATURE TABLE:

Frogs, bullfrogs to be precise. Croaking their little hearts out. Pat tells me it’s past their mating time, so they're obviously doing it just for the craic... Bit like me and cycling.

you have to admire good taste, don't you?

I thought this was rather jolly.

Anyway, I'm going to have a Dutch IPA - it has to be better than Heineken, then an early night.

Evening all.

Weight

Last year, the big problem was too much weight. Not just me, but the ridiculous amount of stuff I took with me. I threw quite a lot away and left even more with my friends in Germany, but still had too much.

This year, I solved the problem at a stroke. I left loads of stuff behind through sheer forgetfulness. So, no pump, tyre levers, spanner, no spares at all, in fact. No toothpaste. No charger for my music player - a tragic loss. How could anyone be so stupid? Actually, it was easy.

Very crowded train to London and a very big bloke in my booked seat. After an initial skirmish, he changed to being a pleasant big bloke, played rugby for Camborne and was off to London to have fun. As he'd had ten pints by the time we got to Exeter, I'm sure he did.

Cycled across London and it wasn't as bad as I thought.

Lovely meal with Janet and Arf in the land of the white stiletto.

Night night all.

The beginning

Off we go tomorrow, though it doesn't really count as there won't be a lot of cycling. I'm taking the train from Cornwall to London then cycling (with trepidation) across London, and on to another train to Shenfield in Essex. This will be the most linguistically-challenging part of the whole trip as my Dutch, German and French will hopefully prove adequate.

Staying overnight with dear Arf and Janet then the overnight ferry from Harwich. Holland should prove refreshingly flat after the somewhat challenging terrain of southern Germany last year.

We've had a couple of weeks of really rather nice weather in Cornwall, so possibly not the best time to leave, but you have to go sometime, don't you?

Hope to see you on the trip.

And another go...

Setting off again in a week's time, on this occasion a more gentle target. I'm taking the boat to Hook of Holland, going just across the border to visit Thessa, the daughter of my dear friend Ad - she's a dear friend in her own right, now. Down to the Ardennes to see Stan and Marie and then a gentle ride back across northern France, through Brittany, and home from Roscoff.

Much more gentle than last year, much more achievable, learned a lot - mainly, don't take so much stuff and try to eat occasionally. So, with the new wisdom, what can possibly go wrong?