It started out as an itch... ever since Mr. K and I had a “chill-out” day in Buis les Baronnies, over 4-years ago now, I’ve been wanting to go back and re-live my chef’s special duck-gizzard salad experience.
As the usual suspects I ride with, were doing their own thing, or strapped for cash etc., I ran a post on the Tosser site to see if anyone was interested... I got 3 replies, but ultimately, no commitments. It was then that GStronaut Jim had a vision... it was just the excuse he needed to get away from his wife’s date and walnut cake for a week. The date was fixed and the planning began.
Friday
I’d got the Friday off work and, after fitting my newly acquired Remus can to SXY, took a leisurely amble down to the channel tunnel to meet Jim. I arrived about an hour early and was given a spot on an earlier train... no sign of Jim though. Safely ensconced in one of the front carriages, I got a text from Jim, who had boarded about 4 carriages behind me... that was good news; we were off to a flyer.
It was a gentle 142-mile blast on the French and Belgian motorways to our first overnight, Balladin’s Superior Hotel in Charleroi. It was a brand new hotel, all mod cons, bar, restaurant etc. etc... but built right next to the airport runway! As it turned out, it wasn’t as bad as we feared; I think night flights were restricted so we got a really good night’s sleep.
Saturday
We were up and away by 8:30. We’d decided not to have breakfast wherever possible and crack on for an hour or two before stopping at a patisserie/boulangerie for coffee and croissants. I had “factored-in” a detour off the motorway and into the Ardennes forest, hoping we would be able to find a quaint hamlet to stop for breakfast. As it turned out, we didn’t find anywhere and ended up stopping at the motorway services on the south side of the Luxembourg ring road, along with the thousands of Dutch caravans and mobile homes queuing for cheap fuel.
Before long, we arrived in the Vosges and the roads got narrower and twistier... this was more like it We had planned to stay somewhere around Gerardmer, a 286 mile day, but we arrived at about 2:30, and it was warm and dry, so we had a beer and some nuts and decided to carry on for another hour, or so.
We stopped briefly at one of the big viewpoints in the Vosges, Le Grand Ballon, which has fantastic views south over Lake Geneva, with The Alps in the distance. Unfortunately, Switzerland seemed to be clouded over, so there was no view... but this is how it looked when I stopped there a couple of years ago...
We were enjoying it so much that we ploughed on, clearing the Vosges altogether and heading across the valley floor towards the Jura mountains, eventually stopping at a pretty little town on the river called Pont de Roide, about 20 miles south of Belfort. We went for a wander around in the warm sunshine, watching the fish in the river, taking in a bar or two,.. have you tasted 1664 Blanc? It’s a bit sweet and citrusy... ugh!
So, it was back to the hotel for a gourmet dinner.
As I sat looking with anticipation at my slices of hand-fed duck breast, Jim’s beef arrived... wow! Was I envious? You bet I was... another litre of wine please!
There was only one thing to do...
All in all, an excellent day’s riding.
Sunday
Breakfast looked really tempting... there was a lone Brit on an RT sitting in the garden with his coffee and rolls etc. We had a quick chat, gave him a couple of hotel possibilities and set off about 8:15. We hit some great country roads in The Jura, dipping in and out of France and Switzerland every hour, or so. The high Swiss valleys were particularly impressive... Farmer Jim questioned how the dairy farmers could only manage to produce about 20 bottles of milk a week, but all drive new cars and had the very latest in designer tractors?
The original destination for today was Annecy, but of course, with yesterday’s marathon ride behind us, we had the chance to go a little further and find somewhere to stop in The Alps proper. The riding was fantastic and, after a detour around a town holding a fete, we lost each other, so I just turned up the wick thinking Jim may have been in front... he wasn’t, but it was a good blast anyway! A couple of text messages later and we were reunited in Bourg St. Maurice. Whilst waiting, I’d had chance to suss out the hotels... it was a noisy/busy place and the hotels were a pretty motley looking bunch, so we decided to head off towards Val d’Isere and try and find somewhere in the country. Half an hour into the valley and we found the perfect place, Sainte-Foy-Tarentaise, a small village halfway up the mountainside with a lovely looking Alpine-style hotel with wooden balconies, flowers etc. The price was a bit steep at €85 for the room, but we negotiated it down to a more reasonable €70, which included free Wee-Fee (Wi-Fi), activated by a 127-character secret key. The view from the balcony...
That evening, we ate alfresco and, because we’d been having the “gourmet” menu for the last couple of nights, we plumped for a couple of pizzas at “only” €10 each, and wonderful they were too... especially with the chef’s special chilli olive oil drizzled over them.
Monday
I think we got away at about 8:00... we were getting used to packing up quickly by now. With very little traffic on the road at this time in the morning, we climbed up though the valley, past the skiing resort of Tignes, and through a deserted Val d’Isere, eventually arriving at our highest point so far, the Col de l’Iseran at 2770 metres. The view from here was absolutely breathtaking...
Coming down the other side we saw dozens of marmots; they would run away if you pulled up to take a photo, eventually stopping out of reach, but always keeping one beady eye on you...
Our route took us down the valley to Lanslebourg and then back up again over the Col du Mt. Cenis and into Italy. We stopped for breakfast in Susa main street... superb marmalade croissants and proper Italian espresso/cappuccino.
As far back as Saturday, after we’d covered quite a few more miles than expected, I’d had this germ of an idea. Instead of going directly to Briancon from Susa on the valley road, I thought we might ride a brilliant trail that runs from here, along the top of the ridge and dropping back down again at Sestriere, almost 30-miles later. I’d first done it several years ago when I think I was still on an Africa Twin. A couple of years ago Wrong Way and I tried to do it, but got turned back by the Italian Army practicing their retreating manoeuvres... it’s one of those trails that makes you want to go back year after year. I’d mooted the idea to Jim the night before, making sure he’d had a few drinks first, and he was up for it, despite not having ridden off-road before... I do believe he was even looking forward to it! So, we stopped at the supermarket and got some bread, cheese, salami and wine... we were lunching on the mountain!
The tight, twisty road up to the Colle delle Finestre is just one long series of hairpin bends under the trees... hardly getting out of 2nd gear. We passed a couple of groups of trail riders getting ready to do the same as us, so we wouldn’t be on our own. The road up eventually broke out of the woods and into the sunshine.
I got to the top first and was happy to see Jim making his way up with a big grin on his face... or was that a grimace? This time, there was no sign of the Italian Army.
After about 5-minutes, the peace was shattered as we were joined by the twenty or so Germans that we had passed on the way up. They were mostly on proper trail/enduro-type machines which they had brought down on trailers.
We had quick chat about the war, we where we’d come from/going to, had you got sore bum etc. etc. It was time to be on our way again, lunch beckoned...
The first half mile was along the tarmac road that wound up from the valley to the south, after which, we turned off and rode along the ridge for the next twenty miles, or so. Choosing a spectacular view, we stopped about half way along this trail to have lunch, but there was a major problem, if not a crisis... when choosing the wine, I didn’t realise that we lacked a corkscrew and I forgot to buy a bottle with a screw top. Jim, practical person that he is, suggested we try my tyre-repair kit and, sure enough, we got the cork out using the serrated bradawl... bingo!
Bread, cheese and salami were dispensed, and wine was drunk from the bottle... is this not a photo of a man who is at one with his environment?
For some reason, the riding seemed much easier after lunch
We came off the ridge and wound our way down the hairpins and back onto tarmac at the Italian ski resort of Sestriere. On superb roads, we swooped down the mountain towards the French border and Briancon. You may have seen my photo of Jim getting his knee down round a hairpin... there were sparks flying off the hero blobs and the smell of burning rubber and leather as his boot was being work away on the edges... a truly classic photograph...
After a quick visit to our friends at the Gay Bar in Briancon, it was over the Col d’Izoard and Col de Vars to our booked overnight stop at Jausiers, just short of Barcelonnette. A cracking day’s riding, and Jim was so pleased that we even had a bit of mud on the bikes to show for it...
The hotel Bel’ Air was full of lycra-clad cyclists trying to emulate their Tour de France heroes, who had passed through here about a week ago. There were two or three “proper” bikers, and someone on a Harley-Davidson, to make up the numbers...
I’d booked the hotel on a €105 Demi-Pension rate, which I think, translates to Dinner, Bed & Breakfast, so it was coffee and croissants with the masses in the morning and the Plat du Jour tonight, which turned out to be several courses of asparagus and artichokes followed by green beans... it was going to be a windy day tomorrow!
Tuesday
We were up, had breakfast and away by 8:00 this morning... the first 10 miles from the hotel were straight up the mountain to the Col de la Bonette... the highest paved road in Europe at over 2800 metres. It was glorious, no one about, except the marmots, warm sun, dry roads... biking heaven.
Wherever possible, the route had been planned making use of the minor roads, marked green on the Michelin map. After coming down off the Col de la Bonette we were now heading westward towards Castellane. We filled up with cheap fuel at the Intermarche... no mucking about with credit cards here... there was a lady sitting in a wooden box taking your money... it must’ve been well into the mid 30’s, so I hope she had air-conditioning!
I’d noticed that my fuel consumption was about 10% better since fitting the Remus end can, although the bike felt exactly the same to ride, the only difference being that I could now hear what the engine was doing... Jim confirms that it doesn’t sound too loud, so it looks like I’m keeping it... in any case, it’s certainly a visual improvement on my home-made “big-bore” conversion
We sat at a bar in the centre of Castellane and had a beer... it was really hot now and we were envious of all the locals riding round in their shorts, tee-shirts and flip-flops... do they never get gravel-rash?
The next leg of the journey took us along the north rim of the Grand Canyon du Verdon... the Verdon Gorge to you and me. Considering this wasn’t the weekend, it was horrendous... all the prats in the world had come out to block the roads and try and kill us. I stopped to take one photograph only and got out of there, tout de suite!
Once west of the Verdon Gorge, we were in Provence, dry, stony ground, lavender fields... amazing herby aromas.
The next stop was John Thornley’s place in Buis les Baronnies, just north of Mt. Ventoux. Mr. K and I stayed at John’s place in 2006 and I’ve been itching to get back ever since... it’s a fabulous home from home in a lovely little town in a beautiful part of France. Jim must’ve wondered where I was taking him as I turned into a narrow alleyway off one of the town’s back streets. John’s house was the old bakery, and the only access is through a side door down the alleyway... he thoughtfully provides a couple of home-made wooded ramps to ease the bike’s progress over the high threshold and into the basement... a tricky manoeuvre with any bike... but a 1200GS Adventure with luggage!!
Once inside, we’d got our helmets and jackets off and were downing bottles of cold beer within minutes. John’s wife, Marje, had come down from sunny Bolton for a few weeks away from work... we greeted with kissing on the cheek (3-off in Provence, apparently) shaking of hands, kneeling and curtsying etc. etc. A quick shower and change of clothes and we were relaxing on the sofa and catching up with all that’s happened since I was last here. I had asked John to get me a bottle of Chablis and shove it in the fridge... he thought the Chablis was a little expensive so he got me a bottle of Maçon Villages instead, at about half the price... give it a go, it’s just as good. We were hungry, so dinner was served... wine, dried ham, salad, wine, salami, sausages, wine, beef patties, chillies, wine, bread, several cheeses and some wine... it went down very well.
We spent the rest of the evening drinking and chatting... Marje even got her guitar and gave us a few tunes... she can certainly play, and has an excellent voice to go with it... I’d had a few drinks... was it Marje, or was it Joni Mitchell?
Wednesday
Today was “chill-out” day... a gentle stroll round the market in the morning, a few drinks at the cafes and a long, leisurely lunch was the order of the day.
A gypsy band was playing in the street...
Jim was haggling on the market... a traditional Provencal hammock made from dead parachutist's cloth... he's a good barterer, but she was better...
The chair-mender was mending chairs...
We sat at one of the restaurants with free Wee-Fee and Jim dialed-in to his office web-cam back at t'mill to check that the workers weren’t slacking whilst he was away spending the profits...
Garlic was waiting to be peeled...
All was well with the world, and the chill had begun... dude!
We wandered back to the house where John & Marje invited us to join them for lunch at a small family restaurant in the next valley... it sounded good to us, so we went. Marj works in Bolton, and she drives her Audi 6 down to Buis in one hit... that’s a spitting distance of just under 1000 miles in one go... respect!
The drive over to the next valley was exhilarating. Marje is no shrinking violet on the road, having trained “The Stig”, and she takes no prisoners... she has particular dislike of Belgian drivers and barks magical phrases, known only to female rally drivers, to make them get out of her way. Unfortunately, the restaurant was closed, so we had a quick look round the church instead...
We headed for Nyons, and another favourite restaurant. This time, we were in luck, it was open and served a superb lunch... with a jug or two, maybe three... or possibly four, of wine! Another town, another bridge to look at... there seemed to be loads of fish in every stream and river... and sheep...
On our way back, we called in at a lavender distillery in Vaison la Romaine. As if it wasn’t hot enough already (36C) these guys worked all day forcing lavender into steel vats in the floor...
... and then cooking it over a blazing fire that boiled the oil out of the plant, which they then distil to produce perfume etc.
A nice “eco” touch here is that, the “depleted lavender“ is recycled by using it to fire the furnace... a bit like uranium, then?
When we got back to Buis, I think we must’ve fallen asleep for a couple of hours... it’s amazing what happens when you have a couple of drinks in the morning, followed by a leisurely lunch and a few more drinks. It just makes you want to do... absolutely nothing!
I may have gone here a couple of times to have a chat with Marylyn...
Number 67 in my series “Toilets of the World”
We “chilled out” again that evening... ordering-in a couple of wood-fired pizzas and sitting on the terrace finishing off last night’s sausages and cheese... with beer, more red wine and another bottle of Maçon Villages. We were all “well chilled”.
The bikes spent the day chilling out as well... in the bakery/studio, with Marje’s paintings...
Thursday
For once, I had to bang on Jim’s door to wake him up... I think the easy life was suiting him too much. A quick cup of coffee and a croissant and it was time to be on our way. We said our sad goodbyes to John & Marje, who had been fantastic hosts and wonderful company... I’ll not be leaving it 4½ years before my next visit.
We were now heading north-west, heading back home really On our route from Buis to Treignac, we packed-in as many of the spectacular limestone gorges as we could...
The Ardeche was the first, and the largest...
The countryside got gradually greener and less barren, the more west we went... we were leaving hot Provence behind. The weather was cooler and clouds were gathering, finally letting go as we climbed the Puy Mary... a pity, as I was really looking forward to the view from the top... I’ll put it back on my “do do” list. It stayed miserable for an hour or so, only getting better in time to dry us out before we reached our hotel in Treignac, where we stayed last year on the inaugural Gastro 1 Tour. We were amazed to discover that the D16 from Egletons to Treignac was not marked as a green route on the Michelin map... it was sensational on the GS, so don’t go telling anyone else or you’ll spoil it.
Talking of my GS... SXY hit 40,000 miles today... that’s 1,000 miles a month since I bought it!
The Hotel La Brasserie is on the bend of the river just outside Treignac. It has a superb restaurant, at quite reasonable prices... the GStronauts dined out on the terrace last year and unanimously agreed it was the best food yet... it didn’t disappoint this time either, we had the €22 Menu Campagnard, which comprised ...
Salad with smoked duck breast, lardons, walnuts and chestnuts.
Grilled lamb with various vegetables... the lamb steaks were charcoaled on the outside and still red on the inside... sublime!
We asked for, and got, a selection of cheeses instead of the Pain Perdu Glace Vanille, which translates as lost bread with vanilla ice cream! I’d had a filling drop out on my chilling-out day, but I’m not a great fan of ice cream anyway.
Ice cream and pancakes... it looks like we were going to have them anyway, but weren’t charged ;-)
Friday
Another early start, we were away by 7:30 and heading north on those wonderful, little-used country lanes... some were dead straight for miles, some were twisty... all were empty. The countryside was definitely agricultural now... fields full of crops being gathered in before the rains came... wheat, grass, sunflowers...
We stopped for breakfast in a typical French village... find the local bar and order your coffee, whilst that’s being made, nip to the patisserie two doors down and buy a couple of freshly-baked pastries to go with it... what a great system. I lost Jim around lunchtime; some diversion through a town sent us in different directions. This was my chance to break out the emergency rations whilst I waited for him... a delicious quiche from this morning’s patisserie... I’m sure it was still warm!
We were on the 8:15am ferry from Caen to Portsmouth on Saturday morning, so I had booked us into a hotel 400 metres away from the terminal gates in Ouistreham... we could push the bikes on if we needed to. It’s a good job neither of us had brought a swinging cat along because there was certainly no room for it our chambre. We sussed out the many “tourist” restaurants around the port and decided to forgo the lure of fish & chips and go for moules mariniere instead... I have to say, they were very good, if a little undersize! Normandy is not a wine-producing area, and this was a “day-trip” destination, so the drinks were accordingly expensive... €14 for the cheapest rough red and €3.50 for a 250cl bottle of tasteless fizzy-piss!
Saturday
Well, that’s it... it was all over bar the shouting.
We had breakfast on the ferry and congratulated each other on staying upright, well... nearly... French women drivers... eh, Jim? Portsmouth came into sight, we slid past all the Navy ships in the harbour, and by 13:15 we were on the motorway heading for home.
I’d like to thank Jim for his excellent company... it’s hard to believe that he’s only been riding for only a couple of years, and now he’s had a taste of the off-road, I suspect there’ll be no stopping him!
I'd also like to thank Old Rascal, who brought us all together last year for the inaugral Gastro 1 Tour de France... maybe he ought to join us in the future?
The full set of photos can be found here
As the usual suspects I ride with, were doing their own thing, or strapped for cash etc., I ran a post on the Tosser site to see if anyone was interested... I got 3 replies, but ultimately, no commitments. It was then that GStronaut Jim had a vision... it was just the excuse he needed to get away from his wife’s date and walnut cake for a week. The date was fixed and the planning began.
Friday
I’d got the Friday off work and, after fitting my newly acquired Remus can to SXY, took a leisurely amble down to the channel tunnel to meet Jim. I arrived about an hour early and was given a spot on an earlier train... no sign of Jim though. Safely ensconced in one of the front carriages, I got a text from Jim, who had boarded about 4 carriages behind me... that was good news; we were off to a flyer.
It was a gentle 142-mile blast on the French and Belgian motorways to our first overnight, Balladin’s Superior Hotel in Charleroi. It was a brand new hotel, all mod cons, bar, restaurant etc. etc... but built right next to the airport runway! As it turned out, it wasn’t as bad as we feared; I think night flights were restricted so we got a really good night’s sleep.
Saturday
We were up and away by 8:30. We’d decided not to have breakfast wherever possible and crack on for an hour or two before stopping at a patisserie/boulangerie for coffee and croissants. I had “factored-in” a detour off the motorway and into the Ardennes forest, hoping we would be able to find a quaint hamlet to stop for breakfast. As it turned out, we didn’t find anywhere and ended up stopping at the motorway services on the south side of the Luxembourg ring road, along with the thousands of Dutch caravans and mobile homes queuing for cheap fuel.
Before long, we arrived in the Vosges and the roads got narrower and twistier... this was more like it We had planned to stay somewhere around Gerardmer, a 286 mile day, but we arrived at about 2:30, and it was warm and dry, so we had a beer and some nuts and decided to carry on for another hour, or so.
We stopped briefly at one of the big viewpoints in the Vosges, Le Grand Ballon, which has fantastic views south over Lake Geneva, with The Alps in the distance. Unfortunately, Switzerland seemed to be clouded over, so there was no view... but this is how it looked when I stopped there a couple of years ago...
We were enjoying it so much that we ploughed on, clearing the Vosges altogether and heading across the valley floor towards the Jura mountains, eventually stopping at a pretty little town on the river called Pont de Roide, about 20 miles south of Belfort. We went for a wander around in the warm sunshine, watching the fish in the river, taking in a bar or two,.. have you tasted 1664 Blanc? It’s a bit sweet and citrusy... ugh!
So, it was back to the hotel for a gourmet dinner.
As I sat looking with anticipation at my slices of hand-fed duck breast, Jim’s beef arrived... wow! Was I envious? You bet I was... another litre of wine please!
There was only one thing to do...
All in all, an excellent day’s riding.
Sunday
Breakfast looked really tempting... there was a lone Brit on an RT sitting in the garden with his coffee and rolls etc. We had a quick chat, gave him a couple of hotel possibilities and set off about 8:15. We hit some great country roads in The Jura, dipping in and out of France and Switzerland every hour, or so. The high Swiss valleys were particularly impressive... Farmer Jim questioned how the dairy farmers could only manage to produce about 20 bottles of milk a week, but all drive new cars and had the very latest in designer tractors?
The original destination for today was Annecy, but of course, with yesterday’s marathon ride behind us, we had the chance to go a little further and find somewhere to stop in The Alps proper. The riding was fantastic and, after a detour around a town holding a fete, we lost each other, so I just turned up the wick thinking Jim may have been in front... he wasn’t, but it was a good blast anyway! A couple of text messages later and we were reunited in Bourg St. Maurice. Whilst waiting, I’d had chance to suss out the hotels... it was a noisy/busy place and the hotels were a pretty motley looking bunch, so we decided to head off towards Val d’Isere and try and find somewhere in the country. Half an hour into the valley and we found the perfect place, Sainte-Foy-Tarentaise, a small village halfway up the mountainside with a lovely looking Alpine-style hotel with wooden balconies, flowers etc. The price was a bit steep at €85 for the room, but we negotiated it down to a more reasonable €70, which included free Wee-Fee (Wi-Fi), activated by a 127-character secret key. The view from the balcony...
That evening, we ate alfresco and, because we’d been having the “gourmet” menu for the last couple of nights, we plumped for a couple of pizzas at “only” €10 each, and wonderful they were too... especially with the chef’s special chilli olive oil drizzled over them.
Monday
I think we got away at about 8:00... we were getting used to packing up quickly by now. With very little traffic on the road at this time in the morning, we climbed up though the valley, past the skiing resort of Tignes, and through a deserted Val d’Isere, eventually arriving at our highest point so far, the Col de l’Iseran at 2770 metres. The view from here was absolutely breathtaking...
Coming down the other side we saw dozens of marmots; they would run away if you pulled up to take a photo, eventually stopping out of reach, but always keeping one beady eye on you...
Our route took us down the valley to Lanslebourg and then back up again over the Col du Mt. Cenis and into Italy. We stopped for breakfast in Susa main street... superb marmalade croissants and proper Italian espresso/cappuccino.
As far back as Saturday, after we’d covered quite a few more miles than expected, I’d had this germ of an idea. Instead of going directly to Briancon from Susa on the valley road, I thought we might ride a brilliant trail that runs from here, along the top of the ridge and dropping back down again at Sestriere, almost 30-miles later. I’d first done it several years ago when I think I was still on an Africa Twin. A couple of years ago Wrong Way and I tried to do it, but got turned back by the Italian Army practicing their retreating manoeuvres... it’s one of those trails that makes you want to go back year after year. I’d mooted the idea to Jim the night before, making sure he’d had a few drinks first, and he was up for it, despite not having ridden off-road before... I do believe he was even looking forward to it! So, we stopped at the supermarket and got some bread, cheese, salami and wine... we were lunching on the mountain!
The tight, twisty road up to the Colle delle Finestre is just one long series of hairpin bends under the trees... hardly getting out of 2nd gear. We passed a couple of groups of trail riders getting ready to do the same as us, so we wouldn’t be on our own. The road up eventually broke out of the woods and into the sunshine.
I got to the top first and was happy to see Jim making his way up with a big grin on his face... or was that a grimace? This time, there was no sign of the Italian Army.
After about 5-minutes, the peace was shattered as we were joined by the twenty or so Germans that we had passed on the way up. They were mostly on proper trail/enduro-type machines which they had brought down on trailers.
We had quick chat about the war, we where we’d come from/going to, had you got sore bum etc. etc. It was time to be on our way again, lunch beckoned...
The first half mile was along the tarmac road that wound up from the valley to the south, after which, we turned off and rode along the ridge for the next twenty miles, or so. Choosing a spectacular view, we stopped about half way along this trail to have lunch, but there was a major problem, if not a crisis... when choosing the wine, I didn’t realise that we lacked a corkscrew and I forgot to buy a bottle with a screw top. Jim, practical person that he is, suggested we try my tyre-repair kit and, sure enough, we got the cork out using the serrated bradawl... bingo!
Bread, cheese and salami were dispensed, and wine was drunk from the bottle... is this not a photo of a man who is at one with his environment?
For some reason, the riding seemed much easier after lunch
We came off the ridge and wound our way down the hairpins and back onto tarmac at the Italian ski resort of Sestriere. On superb roads, we swooped down the mountain towards the French border and Briancon. You may have seen my photo of Jim getting his knee down round a hairpin... there were sparks flying off the hero blobs and the smell of burning rubber and leather as his boot was being work away on the edges... a truly classic photograph...
After a quick visit to our friends at the Gay Bar in Briancon, it was over the Col d’Izoard and Col de Vars to our booked overnight stop at Jausiers, just short of Barcelonnette. A cracking day’s riding, and Jim was so pleased that we even had a bit of mud on the bikes to show for it...
The hotel Bel’ Air was full of lycra-clad cyclists trying to emulate their Tour de France heroes, who had passed through here about a week ago. There were two or three “proper” bikers, and someone on a Harley-Davidson, to make up the numbers...
I’d booked the hotel on a €105 Demi-Pension rate, which I think, translates to Dinner, Bed & Breakfast, so it was coffee and croissants with the masses in the morning and the Plat du Jour tonight, which turned out to be several courses of asparagus and artichokes followed by green beans... it was going to be a windy day tomorrow!
Tuesday
We were up, had breakfast and away by 8:00 this morning... the first 10 miles from the hotel were straight up the mountain to the Col de la Bonette... the highest paved road in Europe at over 2800 metres. It was glorious, no one about, except the marmots, warm sun, dry roads... biking heaven.
Wherever possible, the route had been planned making use of the minor roads, marked green on the Michelin map. After coming down off the Col de la Bonette we were now heading westward towards Castellane. We filled up with cheap fuel at the Intermarche... no mucking about with credit cards here... there was a lady sitting in a wooden box taking your money... it must’ve been well into the mid 30’s, so I hope she had air-conditioning!
I’d noticed that my fuel consumption was about 10% better since fitting the Remus end can, although the bike felt exactly the same to ride, the only difference being that I could now hear what the engine was doing... Jim confirms that it doesn’t sound too loud, so it looks like I’m keeping it... in any case, it’s certainly a visual improvement on my home-made “big-bore” conversion
We sat at a bar in the centre of Castellane and had a beer... it was really hot now and we were envious of all the locals riding round in their shorts, tee-shirts and flip-flops... do they never get gravel-rash?
The next leg of the journey took us along the north rim of the Grand Canyon du Verdon... the Verdon Gorge to you and me. Considering this wasn’t the weekend, it was horrendous... all the prats in the world had come out to block the roads and try and kill us. I stopped to take one photograph only and got out of there, tout de suite!
Once west of the Verdon Gorge, we were in Provence, dry, stony ground, lavender fields... amazing herby aromas.
The next stop was John Thornley’s place in Buis les Baronnies, just north of Mt. Ventoux. Mr. K and I stayed at John’s place in 2006 and I’ve been itching to get back ever since... it’s a fabulous home from home in a lovely little town in a beautiful part of France. Jim must’ve wondered where I was taking him as I turned into a narrow alleyway off one of the town’s back streets. John’s house was the old bakery, and the only access is through a side door down the alleyway... he thoughtfully provides a couple of home-made wooded ramps to ease the bike’s progress over the high threshold and into the basement... a tricky manoeuvre with any bike... but a 1200GS Adventure with luggage!!
Once inside, we’d got our helmets and jackets off and were downing bottles of cold beer within minutes. John’s wife, Marje, had come down from sunny Bolton for a few weeks away from work... we greeted with kissing on the cheek (3-off in Provence, apparently) shaking of hands, kneeling and curtsying etc. etc. A quick shower and change of clothes and we were relaxing on the sofa and catching up with all that’s happened since I was last here. I had asked John to get me a bottle of Chablis and shove it in the fridge... he thought the Chablis was a little expensive so he got me a bottle of Maçon Villages instead, at about half the price... give it a go, it’s just as good. We were hungry, so dinner was served... wine, dried ham, salad, wine, salami, sausages, wine, beef patties, chillies, wine, bread, several cheeses and some wine... it went down very well.
We spent the rest of the evening drinking and chatting... Marje even got her guitar and gave us a few tunes... she can certainly play, and has an excellent voice to go with it... I’d had a few drinks... was it Marje, or was it Joni Mitchell?
Wednesday
Today was “chill-out” day... a gentle stroll round the market in the morning, a few drinks at the cafes and a long, leisurely lunch was the order of the day.
A gypsy band was playing in the street...
Jim was haggling on the market... a traditional Provencal hammock made from dead parachutist's cloth... he's a good barterer, but she was better...
The chair-mender was mending chairs...
We sat at one of the restaurants with free Wee-Fee and Jim dialed-in to his office web-cam back at t'mill to check that the workers weren’t slacking whilst he was away spending the profits...
Garlic was waiting to be peeled...
All was well with the world, and the chill had begun... dude!
We wandered back to the house where John & Marje invited us to join them for lunch at a small family restaurant in the next valley... it sounded good to us, so we went. Marj works in Bolton, and she drives her Audi 6 down to Buis in one hit... that’s a spitting distance of just under 1000 miles in one go... respect!
The drive over to the next valley was exhilarating. Marje is no shrinking violet on the road, having trained “The Stig”, and she takes no prisoners... she has particular dislike of Belgian drivers and barks magical phrases, known only to female rally drivers, to make them get out of her way. Unfortunately, the restaurant was closed, so we had a quick look round the church instead...
We headed for Nyons, and another favourite restaurant. This time, we were in luck, it was open and served a superb lunch... with a jug or two, maybe three... or possibly four, of wine! Another town, another bridge to look at... there seemed to be loads of fish in every stream and river... and sheep...
On our way back, we called in at a lavender distillery in Vaison la Romaine. As if it wasn’t hot enough already (36C) these guys worked all day forcing lavender into steel vats in the floor...
... and then cooking it over a blazing fire that boiled the oil out of the plant, which they then distil to produce perfume etc.
A nice “eco” touch here is that, the “depleted lavender“ is recycled by using it to fire the furnace... a bit like uranium, then?
When we got back to Buis, I think we must’ve fallen asleep for a couple of hours... it’s amazing what happens when you have a couple of drinks in the morning, followed by a leisurely lunch and a few more drinks. It just makes you want to do... absolutely nothing!
I may have gone here a couple of times to have a chat with Marylyn...
Number 67 in my series “Toilets of the World”
We “chilled out” again that evening... ordering-in a couple of wood-fired pizzas and sitting on the terrace finishing off last night’s sausages and cheese... with beer, more red wine and another bottle of Maçon Villages. We were all “well chilled”.
The bikes spent the day chilling out as well... in the bakery/studio, with Marje’s paintings...
Thursday
For once, I had to bang on Jim’s door to wake him up... I think the easy life was suiting him too much. A quick cup of coffee and a croissant and it was time to be on our way. We said our sad goodbyes to John & Marje, who had been fantastic hosts and wonderful company... I’ll not be leaving it 4½ years before my next visit.
We were now heading north-west, heading back home really On our route from Buis to Treignac, we packed-in as many of the spectacular limestone gorges as we could...
The Ardeche was the first, and the largest...
The countryside got gradually greener and less barren, the more west we went... we were leaving hot Provence behind. The weather was cooler and clouds were gathering, finally letting go as we climbed the Puy Mary... a pity, as I was really looking forward to the view from the top... I’ll put it back on my “do do” list. It stayed miserable for an hour or so, only getting better in time to dry us out before we reached our hotel in Treignac, where we stayed last year on the inaugural Gastro 1 Tour. We were amazed to discover that the D16 from Egletons to Treignac was not marked as a green route on the Michelin map... it was sensational on the GS, so don’t go telling anyone else or you’ll spoil it.
Talking of my GS... SXY hit 40,000 miles today... that’s 1,000 miles a month since I bought it!
The Hotel La Brasserie is on the bend of the river just outside Treignac. It has a superb restaurant, at quite reasonable prices... the GStronauts dined out on the terrace last year and unanimously agreed it was the best food yet... it didn’t disappoint this time either, we had the €22 Menu Campagnard, which comprised ...
Salad with smoked duck breast, lardons, walnuts and chestnuts.
Grilled lamb with various vegetables... the lamb steaks were charcoaled on the outside and still red on the inside... sublime!
We asked for, and got, a selection of cheeses instead of the Pain Perdu Glace Vanille, which translates as lost bread with vanilla ice cream! I’d had a filling drop out on my chilling-out day, but I’m not a great fan of ice cream anyway.
Ice cream and pancakes... it looks like we were going to have them anyway, but weren’t charged ;-)
Friday
Another early start, we were away by 7:30 and heading north on those wonderful, little-used country lanes... some were dead straight for miles, some were twisty... all were empty. The countryside was definitely agricultural now... fields full of crops being gathered in before the rains came... wheat, grass, sunflowers...
We stopped for breakfast in a typical French village... find the local bar and order your coffee, whilst that’s being made, nip to the patisserie two doors down and buy a couple of freshly-baked pastries to go with it... what a great system. I lost Jim around lunchtime; some diversion through a town sent us in different directions. This was my chance to break out the emergency rations whilst I waited for him... a delicious quiche from this morning’s patisserie... I’m sure it was still warm!
We were on the 8:15am ferry from Caen to Portsmouth on Saturday morning, so I had booked us into a hotel 400 metres away from the terminal gates in Ouistreham... we could push the bikes on if we needed to. It’s a good job neither of us had brought a swinging cat along because there was certainly no room for it our chambre. We sussed out the many “tourist” restaurants around the port and decided to forgo the lure of fish & chips and go for moules mariniere instead... I have to say, they were very good, if a little undersize! Normandy is not a wine-producing area, and this was a “day-trip” destination, so the drinks were accordingly expensive... €14 for the cheapest rough red and €3.50 for a 250cl bottle of tasteless fizzy-piss!
Saturday
Well, that’s it... it was all over bar the shouting.
We had breakfast on the ferry and congratulated each other on staying upright, well... nearly... French women drivers... eh, Jim? Portsmouth came into sight, we slid past all the Navy ships in the harbour, and by 13:15 we were on the motorway heading for home.
I’d like to thank Jim for his excellent company... it’s hard to believe that he’s only been riding for only a couple of years, and now he’s had a taste of the off-road, I suspect there’ll be no stopping him!
I'd also like to thank Old Rascal, who brought us all together last year for the inaugral Gastro 1 Tour de France... maybe he ought to join us in the future?
The full set of photos can be found here
. What a bloody hoot you had and you managed the Holy Grail of great roads, good company, succulent regional food (mostly) and a not inconsiderable amount of 
and 
.
