Greasy Biker
Registered user
This is the article I've written for the local I.A.M. Newsletter in Bristol:
The trip started with the 16:30 sailing of the Santander ferry from Plymouth; on Sunday 12th September 2010... at least, that’s the bare bones of it. In reality it started in September 2009, after I’d made my first trip to the Pyrenees on the BMW 1200GS Adventure that I’d bought earlier in the year – and had promised myself that I’d return for a more thorough look around.
On that first trip I’d caught the Poole – Cherbourg ferry. An overnight crossing, following which I’d had a fair chunk of riding to do, some 670 miles, to reach my final destination – a camp-site in a small village called Camurac, East of Ax-Les-Thermes on the N20 from Toulouse to Barcelona.
That trip in 2009 was my first overseas on a ‘bike, so it was I guess a confidence building exercise as well as an opportunity to re-visit one or two memorable sites. For 2010 I planned a more ambitious trip, taking in a couple of places visited the previous year – as well as a few new ones to. The ferry arrived in Santander an hour later than the scheduled 13:00 on Monday 13th, but it made no odds to me as the 25°C weather was perfect and the mood on the vessel was electric – there must have been a good 100+ ‘bikes on board, all heading out on trips across, Spain, France and beyond, one of the people I got chatting to at the bar was heading to Morocco for the first time – maybe next year I thought....
The view as we approached Santander, Northern Spain:
I had spent some time at home planning the route I was going to use, and transferring it to the Garmin Zumo 660 Sat Nav that I use on the ‘bike. I had put Waypoints in at key junctions, and flagged a couple of useful campsites too. The first nights’ stay was planned at a campsite called Baztan Camping. It is in the foothills of the Pyrenees on the Spanish side, and a useful 3 hours or so from Santander. This was my first time in Spain, so I didn’t want to plan too much mileage on the first afternoon.
From their web-site, Baztan Camping looked a good place to be, but the reality was (that I’d yet to learn) that ‘Camping’ in Europe can refer to motor-homes, as well as spending the night under canvas. Baztan Camping was little more than a couple of electrical points and a concrete apron, soo… plan ‘B’ suddenly sprang to life – I used the Sat Nav to locate the nearby alternatives – and voila – 45 minutes away was a French municipal site at Saint-Etienne-de-Baigorry on the D15. Cheap and cheerful, but it was clean, and with shower facilities was all I needed. I say cheap, it was €3.10 for the night!! The local produce shop proved a useful source for a decent bottle of Cote du Rhone or two, so the evening looked promising!
Day two, Tuesday 14th and I joined the D918 heading East, just outside St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, and what a fantastic road. Constant radius bends with a hint of camber and a billiard-table smooth surface, + stunning views of the distant Pyrenean mountains to distract the rider! This shot was taken further along the D918 on the Col d’Aubisque (1700m/5500ft altitude), a favorite on the Tour de France...
Tim Blakemore in Bristol had recently fitted a full Akrapovic system for me, and a custom-mapped Power Commander to help it run properly. I quickly discovered that ‘making good progress’ seemed to be having a detrimental effect on fuel consumption! – The Akrapovic exhaust sounds great, particularly through the tunnels and narrow Pyrenean village streets, of which I was encountering many! I throttled back a little and enjoyed the scenery at a slightly more sedate pace. The Pyrenean roads are a fantastic place to enjoy the handling and performance of a decent ‘bike, and with little traffic now the summer holidays were over, it’s very easy to get into a fast rhythm riding from bend to bend, especially on the GS, which was coping very well with the extra weight of kit that I was carrying.
I travelled to the next port of call, and found a decent campsite just south of Argeles-Gazost called Camping du Lavedan. This one a little more up market than the first, with a bar and swimming pool – but allot more expensive (?!) at around €8-00 a night. I arrived a little early, at 16:00, so had time for a quick recce of the Pont d’Espagne, around 12 miles away to the South.
Day three, Wednesday 15th, and after a decent nights’ sleep I left all my gear at the campsite and headed for the Pont d’Espagne. The Pont (‘bridge’) itself is only a 250m walk from the car park, but if you’re so inclined there is a short cable-car trip to ease the strain! In fairness it is quite a steep climb, so the cable-car option allows the less able-bodied the opportunity to visit the Pont, and the impressive waterfalls immediately above.
Beyond the Pont was a second much longer climb of around 1½ hours to the next stunning piece of scenery, and this time your intrepid explorer did take the easy option – a ski-style chair lift!! The chair lift took around ten minutes to climb around 800 metres, making access to the Lac du Gaube much easier, and even if you had to make the trip entirely on foot the views would be worth it:
In the afternoon I planned a trip to the Cirque de Gavarnie, a stunning natural amphitheatre of snow-capped limestone, with the highest waterfall in Europe, the Grande Cascade – at 423m(1388ft) top to bottom. I had already investigated the route, and the Garmin software showed an ‘unpaved road’ that I could use – too tempting to miss! Unfortunately the reality of the ‘unpaved road’ was a broad footpath with plenty of easy-going walkers enjoying the peace and tranquillity of the Pyrenees – not people who’d appreciate an Akrapovic’d 1200GS rumbling past, I realised – so instead of the 10 miles or so of ‘unpaved road’ I took the 30-mile tarmac route. So many times already on this trip I had stopped to take photos of the stunning views, and the route to the Cirque de Gavarnie was no exception – alas I suspect there just isn’t the space to include them all here, so I’ve up-loaded a pick of all the photo’s I took to the PhotoBucket website here:
http://s592.photobucket.com/albums/tt1/richdolby/2010 Road Trip/?albumview=slideshow
Once at the Cirque’ I grabbed a snack and took some time out to take in the breathtaking scenery!
The following day I packed my gear early, and headed East. Following more of the Tour de France route, passing the Col du Tourmalet (2115 metres, 6780ft), the Col d’Aspin and on through the small town of Arreau, where the local market was in full swing. The route now changed from the D918 to the D618, and the following stretch of road to Bagnères-de-Luchon was stunning. I had noticed quite a few classic sports cars on the ferry to Santander, there may have been some sort of rally taking place as allot of classic machinery was coming the other way on this stretch of road – a Bentley, a couple of Healy 3000’s and quite a few Jaguars, XK120’s & 150’s.
I passed through St Girons and took time for a quick recce of the Riviere Souterraine de Labouchie – the longest navigable underground river in Europe, 1500m of river passage first opened to the public in 1938. The plan was to visit this site the following day. Next on the agenda was to find a decent campsite for the night.
Unfortunately at this time of year some of the smaller sites are closing, as it’s the end of the summer season. Fortunately Mr Garmin came to the rescue once more, and guided me to an excellent 4-star site just south of Foix, called Les Pre Lombard, which I would highly recommend at around €8-00 a night, either as an overnight stopover, or as a base to explore the surrounding area. The plan for the following day was to visit the Riviere, and then ride the 190-ish miles, via Carcassonne, to a campsite right on the coast, east of Marseille, called Le Clos du Rhone.
Friday started at 10 a.m. with a visit to the Riviere Souterraine do Labouchie. 1500m of underground river explored by boat, the trip taking about 75 minutes. It was eerily silent as the guide propelled the tourist boat through the river passage by pulling us along the guide-wires, telling us how the various cave formations had been created over the millennia. A fascinating place to visit, but unfortunately photography wasn’t permitted.
A couple of hours later I was back at Les Pre Lombard, packing my kit and planning a route to the next campsite East of Marseille – with a quick stop at Carcassonne on the way.
The medieval city of Carcassonne has been brilliantly preserved, and has been used as a set in numerous films, including Renoir’s first feature film: Le Tournoi dans la Cité (1928) and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991). I stopped briefly at the fortified entrance, regretting that I had not set aside the full day needed to fully explore the 25-acre Castle:
From here I left the sweeping roads that I had been following for the last few days, and joined the Autoroute continuing East. Some of these routes include a Péage (Toll), but I was happy to pay a few €uros’ and relax into a few miles of coastal scenery on my way to the next campsite in the Camargue region East of Marseille. The site is called Le Clos Du Rône, next the town Saint-Maries-De-La-Mer.
This was fortunately another 4* site, with pool, bar & café/restaurant and shop – together with the usual toilet & shower facilities, and a similar €-cost to the previous sites. I began to set up camp, and an hour or so later another traveller turned up on a Honda 750cc Africa-Twin. He had come from Germany over the Alps, and was on his way to Portugal via the Pyrenees & Spain – we spent and hour or so chatting over a beer, and swapping info’ on routes and road conditions.
The Camargue is a low-lying region, and as you near the sea there are numerous brackish lagoons, canals and narrow waterways. On top of the nearby shower-block was the largest Insect-O-Cuter I’d ever seen! It must have been 5 feet tall, and it’s surreal near-silent blue glow at night was occasionally interrupted by the sharp report of an insect getting frazzled; I concluded that “there’s possibly a mosquito issue here in the summer months, so maybe best avoided”!
Saturday 18th; the following morning I was up early, and boy I was hungry! I grabbed a Baguette from the site’s shop, and after devouring half of it, together with a can of Big Soup that I’d heated on the Primus, I was soon packing my gear, before heading for a suburb east of Marseille, called Aubagne.
This was one of the places that I’d intended to visit as soon as I’d began planning my trip. Based in Aubagne is the 4eme Regiment Étrangére – The HQ of the French Foreign Legion. Also here is the Musée de la Légion Étrangére – the ‘Legion Museum. I had last been here in the mid - 80’s, and was surprised at how much I still remembered of the place. I was the only one in the car park, and as it turned out – the only visitor to the museum that morning.
It is difficult to describe here how it felt to be there again – some 25 years later, I still felt part of the machine as it were, and I have to admit, I started to feel a bit overwhelmed as I walked around the museum, remembering previous events from 1980’s. I had been stationed in Djibouti, N.E. Africa, with the 13eme DBLE. Perusing the small shop there, I picked up a couple of relevant items, and headed back out to the car park, & my ‘bike – I quickly snapped back to the reality of life 25 years later, and the next destination for some people watching – St Tropez.
Although it wasn’t raining as such, the roads were becoming damp again, and the traffic heavy along the twisting tree-lined route down to St Tropez itself. The architecture around the centre of the town is stunning. Built from a honey-coloured local sandstone, it’s an old harbour now lined with bars and restaurants. To access the centre in a car would be nigh on impossible. On the ‘bike I ‘negotiated’ some bollards and found myself at the waterfront, with gin-palaces aplenty lining the quay walls. It was like a surreal Hollywood film set, yachts from all over the world, with their owners and crews mingling with those who were maybe there just to try and spot the rich and (in)famous. No one seemed to mind me pottering around the car-less streets on the GS. In fact, the transport of choice in St Tropez seems to be the scooter, as hundreds were parked up wherever there was space.
The weather was still slightly overcast, so I set off East again heading for the final destination for that day – the Principauté de Monaco. On the ferry over from Plymouth I’d picked up copy of ‘Top Gear’ magazine. Reading it at the bar on the ferry I’d discovered that every month they have a short article entitled: “Roads to Drive Before You Die”. In the issue the road described was the D2564:
The D2564 climbs steeply out of Nice heading East across the hills above the coast, before dropping down into Monaco itself. Every month the magazine runs a challenge – ‘get yourself photographed on the RTDBFYD holding a copy, and you’ll appear in a future issue’ – a challenge I couldn’t resist!!
The D2564 is a flowing section of single-carriageway that gives some fantastic views down onto Monaco, before itself turning down-hill in a series of tight hairpin turns through to busy narrow streets, and eventually the harbour itself:
My goal for the night was to get a room at the Riviera Marriott Hotel. I had checked their prices on-line before leaving home, so I knew what to expect – but I was unsure as to how I’d be received turning up without a reservation, & probably looking in need of a decent shower at the very least!
I would have pre-booked, but didn’t know exactly when I was going to be arriving – so this approach was my only option.
The concierge greeted me, and courteously listened to my request for a room, before disappearing into his office to “check room availability & rates sir” he said. A couple of long minutes passed, and he reappeared, confirming that rooms were available, and with a price that matched my earlier research – deal done!!!
I had arrived at 17:30 – and the prospect of finding a campsite in the area was pretty slim, so my relief at getting a room was no doubt pretty evident! I was given directions to their secure underground car park where I could leave the GS, handed a key to my room, and that was it! The car park itself was like a specialist car showroom, Ferraris, Porsches, Bentley, Aston Martin – you name it, and of course a loaded GS with a tired biker on board!
I found a parking slot, and was sorely tempted to utilise my allocated space to the full, and put the tent up next to the ‘bike, just to give it a decent airing plus the chance to dry out. Caution won however, & decided it was probably not the best idea. I carried my gear to the lift, & went up to my room. The place was immaculate, with huge bed, flat-screen TV, Internet Wi-Fi, all of life’s luxuries in fact - and of course, a Mini-Bar!!
I was pretty knackered, so the thought of going out for the evening quickly disappeared. I opted for a couple of beers in the hotel bar instead. Even though we weren’t on the Port Hercule – the main harbour – there were still plenty yachts moored along the waterfront, literally 15 yards from the bar I was sitting in. Not too many people around either, which was exactly how I wanted it – time to reflect on the trip thus far, and take a quiet break from those twisty Pyrenean passes, 80 mph Autoroutes, and Primus stove-heated soup!
Sunday 19th; this morning I was faced with a bit of a dilemma. On the one hand I was tempted to stay another day in Monaco – and on the other the desire to get on the road again. I already had a plan for the next stop, which was a campsite on the Italian side of the Mont Blanc Tunnel. I opted to continue my trip East along the Mediterranean coast into northern Italy, before turning North past Turin, and on toward the Alps.
I climbed out of Monaco, following the Garmin’s directions whilst at the same time trying to take in the scenery around me. This was just one of many glamorous residences in the area:
Heading East the Autoroute took me through/over numerous tunnels and viaducts and the temperature climbed slowly to a very pleasant 27°C, together with clear blue skies and attractive scenery wherever you looked. I nearly came a cropper a couple of times as I tried to interpret both the Garmin’s directions, and Italian signposts. Fortunately I didn’t come to grief, but the Autoroute Toll’s were draining what little cash I was carrying, so once again the Sat Nav came to the rescue – guiding me to an ATM in a slightly less than salubrious suburb of Turin. I spent 30 minutes negotiating tram lines and countless traffic lights (always set to red for some reason), as well as Italian driving – which for some reason reminded me of when I used to work as a despatch rider in central London many moons ago – great fun!! The further North we got – or rather the closer I was getting to the Alps, the more impressive the views became:
I found my way to the campsite, called Camping Monte Bianco 'la Sorgente, which is literally 10 minutes from the tunnel itself:
Lovely views of the mountains, but strangely empty I thought – until I enquired of the owners the likely temperature that night. Neither of us understood one another very well, but when I pointed to the thermometer on the reception wall the internationally recognized word ‘Zero’ told me all I need to know – any thoughts of camping were pushed firmly to the back of my mind as I got back on the GS and kept on heading North, through the Mont Blanc tunnel, and on to Geneva.
This is the view of Mont Blanc from the North. Not visible in the picture, but at least half-a-dozen para-gliders were airborne, all flying well above the tree line.
Geneva is an appealing looking place, wide streets and a seemingly a good atmosphere. I headed for the lakeside near the city centre, for a look across the lake itself, before heading Northeast across the northern shores of Lake Geneva and on toward Lausanne. Here again I turned North, heading for a town called Besançon, and in doing so across the border back into France.
As it became dark so the temperature dropped, and after an hour or so of steady progress I started looking for a place to stay. I tried a couple of interesting looking bar/restaurant/guest-houses along the route but all were full. Finally on the edge of a small town called Pontarlier I found an Ibis Hotel, and although a little less exciting when compared with the past few days fun and games, did at least offer a clean comfortable room for the evening, and a seemingly secure place to park the ‘bike for the night.
Monday 20th; a decent breakfast at the Ibis, and then I was on my way again, leaving Pontarlier at 9a.m., heading North once more for Luxembourg. The route North predominantly followed the N57 across country, eventually joining decent dual carriageway South of Nancy. I arrived in Luxembourg around 13:00, and started looking for a decent hotel. One that would fulfil a couple of criteria; near the city centre, and with its own car park – preferably secure. I had done a bit of research before I’d left, which had thrown up a couple of possibilities, including Le Royal on the Boulevard Royal – right in the city centre itself. The hotel was located on the one-way system that runs around the centre of town, so I rode around in circles a couple of times checking out the hotel and its location, and scanning for anywhere else that might look suitable. On the third circuit I spotted an alternative, the Rix. A tidy looking place, with a well-lit car park right in front - an ideal place for the GS I figured. So, one more circuit around the one-way system, and I pulled into the Rix Hotel. Inside I found a quaint old-fashioned style of hotel. It looked as though its last refit would probably have been back in the 1970’s, but it was clean and well kept – my gut feeling was good, so I booked a room for the night.
Myself showered, and the ‘bike locked up for the night, I ventured out into the heart of the city of Luxembourg. I stopped for a bite to eat on the Place D’armes, before exploring some of the city, quickly finding the Palais Grand Ducal:
Behind this imposing Official Residence is the old part of town. Well away from the designer-shops on the Grand Rue is a network of narrow cobbled streets, with numerous attractive bars and restaurants to choose from.
I sampled one or two of the bars, before returning to the hotel for a nightcap from the mini-bar in my room, and a quick interrogation of the Sat Nav to see what lay ahead – 257 miles between me and the Channel Tunnel the following morning. This was the view from the balcony of my room that evening:
In the car park a Range Rover, a Triumph TR4A, and a dusty GS!! I slept well that night, and was up at 06:45 for breakfast service at 7a.m. At 7:45 on Tuesday 21st September I rolled out of the Rix Hotel car park and headed for the Channel Tunnel, first across Belgium and then into France. The roads were relatively free, and with a full tank of fuel (around 33 litres, over 7 gallons) together with the 130kph (80mph) speed limit I made excellent progress.
During the 10-day trip I think I’d had several lucky breaks, with the roads, the scenery, the campsites that I’d found, and the people that I’d met – and of course being let into that hotel in Monaco! But I think the icing on the cake was arriving at the Calais end of the Channel Tunnel at 11:30 a.m., ten minutes before the next train was due to depart – I was literally the last one onto the train;
At just after 11a.m. (remember, there’s an hour time difference between the UK and Europe) I arrived in Dover, and rode off the Channel Tunnel train, down the slip road and straight on to the M20 heading West. The Sun was shinning, and 4 hours later I was back in Bristol having a pint in my local, the Lazy Dog, on Ashley Down Road, Horfield.
10 days, 2350 miles – Job done!!!
Like to say a quick 'thanks!!' to everyone on the UK GS'ers site - sound advice and inspiration, 2011 awaits!!
The trip started with the 16:30 sailing of the Santander ferry from Plymouth; on Sunday 12th September 2010... at least, that’s the bare bones of it. In reality it started in September 2009, after I’d made my first trip to the Pyrenees on the BMW 1200GS Adventure that I’d bought earlier in the year – and had promised myself that I’d return for a more thorough look around.
On that first trip I’d caught the Poole – Cherbourg ferry. An overnight crossing, following which I’d had a fair chunk of riding to do, some 670 miles, to reach my final destination – a camp-site in a small village called Camurac, East of Ax-Les-Thermes on the N20 from Toulouse to Barcelona.
That trip in 2009 was my first overseas on a ‘bike, so it was I guess a confidence building exercise as well as an opportunity to re-visit one or two memorable sites. For 2010 I planned a more ambitious trip, taking in a couple of places visited the previous year – as well as a few new ones to. The ferry arrived in Santander an hour later than the scheduled 13:00 on Monday 13th, but it made no odds to me as the 25°C weather was perfect and the mood on the vessel was electric – there must have been a good 100+ ‘bikes on board, all heading out on trips across, Spain, France and beyond, one of the people I got chatting to at the bar was heading to Morocco for the first time – maybe next year I thought....
The view as we approached Santander, Northern Spain:
I had spent some time at home planning the route I was going to use, and transferring it to the Garmin Zumo 660 Sat Nav that I use on the ‘bike. I had put Waypoints in at key junctions, and flagged a couple of useful campsites too. The first nights’ stay was planned at a campsite called Baztan Camping. It is in the foothills of the Pyrenees on the Spanish side, and a useful 3 hours or so from Santander. This was my first time in Spain, so I didn’t want to plan too much mileage on the first afternoon.
From their web-site, Baztan Camping looked a good place to be, but the reality was (that I’d yet to learn) that ‘Camping’ in Europe can refer to motor-homes, as well as spending the night under canvas. Baztan Camping was little more than a couple of electrical points and a concrete apron, soo… plan ‘B’ suddenly sprang to life – I used the Sat Nav to locate the nearby alternatives – and voila – 45 minutes away was a French municipal site at Saint-Etienne-de-Baigorry on the D15. Cheap and cheerful, but it was clean, and with shower facilities was all I needed. I say cheap, it was €3.10 for the night!! The local produce shop proved a useful source for a decent bottle of Cote du Rhone or two, so the evening looked promising!
Day two, Tuesday 14th and I joined the D918 heading East, just outside St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, and what a fantastic road. Constant radius bends with a hint of camber and a billiard-table smooth surface, + stunning views of the distant Pyrenean mountains to distract the rider! This shot was taken further along the D918 on the Col d’Aubisque (1700m/5500ft altitude), a favorite on the Tour de France...
“my ‘bikes bigger than your ‘bike – oh no it isn’t!!”
Tim Blakemore in Bristol had recently fitted a full Akrapovic system for me, and a custom-mapped Power Commander to help it run properly. I quickly discovered that ‘making good progress’ seemed to be having a detrimental effect on fuel consumption! – The Akrapovic exhaust sounds great, particularly through the tunnels and narrow Pyrenean village streets, of which I was encountering many! I throttled back a little and enjoyed the scenery at a slightly more sedate pace. The Pyrenean roads are a fantastic place to enjoy the handling and performance of a decent ‘bike, and with little traffic now the summer holidays were over, it’s very easy to get into a fast rhythm riding from bend to bend, especially on the GS, which was coping very well with the extra weight of kit that I was carrying.
I travelled to the next port of call, and found a decent campsite just south of Argeles-Gazost called Camping du Lavedan. This one a little more up market than the first, with a bar and swimming pool – but allot more expensive (?!) at around €8-00 a night. I arrived a little early, at 16:00, so had time for a quick recce of the Pont d’Espagne, around 12 miles away to the South.
Day three, Wednesday 15th, and after a decent nights’ sleep I left all my gear at the campsite and headed for the Pont d’Espagne. The Pont (‘bridge’) itself is only a 250m walk from the car park, but if you’re so inclined there is a short cable-car trip to ease the strain! In fairness it is quite a steep climb, so the cable-car option allows the less able-bodied the opportunity to visit the Pont, and the impressive waterfalls immediately above.
Beyond the Pont was a second much longer climb of around 1½ hours to the next stunning piece of scenery, and this time your intrepid explorer did take the easy option – a ski-style chair lift!! The chair lift took around ten minutes to climb around 800 metres, making access to the Lac du Gaube much easier, and even if you had to make the trip entirely on foot the views would be worth it:
In the afternoon I planned a trip to the Cirque de Gavarnie, a stunning natural amphitheatre of snow-capped limestone, with the highest waterfall in Europe, the Grande Cascade – at 423m(1388ft) top to bottom. I had already investigated the route, and the Garmin software showed an ‘unpaved road’ that I could use – too tempting to miss! Unfortunately the reality of the ‘unpaved road’ was a broad footpath with plenty of easy-going walkers enjoying the peace and tranquillity of the Pyrenees – not people who’d appreciate an Akrapovic’d 1200GS rumbling past, I realised – so instead of the 10 miles or so of ‘unpaved road’ I took the 30-mile tarmac route. So many times already on this trip I had stopped to take photos of the stunning views, and the route to the Cirque de Gavarnie was no exception – alas I suspect there just isn’t the space to include them all here, so I’ve up-loaded a pick of all the photo’s I took to the PhotoBucket website here:
http://s592.photobucket.com/albums/tt1/richdolby/2010 Road Trip/?albumview=slideshow
Once at the Cirque’ I grabbed a snack and took some time out to take in the breathtaking scenery!
The following day I packed my gear early, and headed East. Following more of the Tour de France route, passing the Col du Tourmalet (2115 metres, 6780ft), the Col d’Aspin and on through the small town of Arreau, where the local market was in full swing. The route now changed from the D918 to the D618, and the following stretch of road to Bagnères-de-Luchon was stunning. I had noticed quite a few classic sports cars on the ferry to Santander, there may have been some sort of rally taking place as allot of classic machinery was coming the other way on this stretch of road – a Bentley, a couple of Healy 3000’s and quite a few Jaguars, XK120’s & 150’s.
I passed through St Girons and took time for a quick recce of the Riviere Souterraine de Labouchie – the longest navigable underground river in Europe, 1500m of river passage first opened to the public in 1938. The plan was to visit this site the following day. Next on the agenda was to find a decent campsite for the night.
Unfortunately at this time of year some of the smaller sites are closing, as it’s the end of the summer season. Fortunately Mr Garmin came to the rescue once more, and guided me to an excellent 4-star site just south of Foix, called Les Pre Lombard, which I would highly recommend at around €8-00 a night, either as an overnight stopover, or as a base to explore the surrounding area. The plan for the following day was to visit the Riviere, and then ride the 190-ish miles, via Carcassonne, to a campsite right on the coast, east of Marseille, called Le Clos du Rhone.
Friday started at 10 a.m. with a visit to the Riviere Souterraine do Labouchie. 1500m of underground river explored by boat, the trip taking about 75 minutes. It was eerily silent as the guide propelled the tourist boat through the river passage by pulling us along the guide-wires, telling us how the various cave formations had been created over the millennia. A fascinating place to visit, but unfortunately photography wasn’t permitted.
A couple of hours later I was back at Les Pre Lombard, packing my kit and planning a route to the next campsite East of Marseille – with a quick stop at Carcassonne on the way.
The medieval city of Carcassonne has been brilliantly preserved, and has been used as a set in numerous films, including Renoir’s first feature film: Le Tournoi dans la Cité (1928) and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991). I stopped briefly at the fortified entrance, regretting that I had not set aside the full day needed to fully explore the 25-acre Castle:
From here I left the sweeping roads that I had been following for the last few days, and joined the Autoroute continuing East. Some of these routes include a Péage (Toll), but I was happy to pay a few €uros’ and relax into a few miles of coastal scenery on my way to the next campsite in the Camargue region East of Marseille. The site is called Le Clos Du Rône, next the town Saint-Maries-De-La-Mer.
This was fortunately another 4* site, with pool, bar & café/restaurant and shop – together with the usual toilet & shower facilities, and a similar €-cost to the previous sites. I began to set up camp, and an hour or so later another traveller turned up on a Honda 750cc Africa-Twin. He had come from Germany over the Alps, and was on his way to Portugal via the Pyrenees & Spain – we spent and hour or so chatting over a beer, and swapping info’ on routes and road conditions.
The Camargue is a low-lying region, and as you near the sea there are numerous brackish lagoons, canals and narrow waterways. On top of the nearby shower-block was the largest Insect-O-Cuter I’d ever seen! It must have been 5 feet tall, and it’s surreal near-silent blue glow at night was occasionally interrupted by the sharp report of an insect getting frazzled; I concluded that “there’s possibly a mosquito issue here in the summer months, so maybe best avoided”!
Saturday 18th; the following morning I was up early, and boy I was hungry! I grabbed a Baguette from the site’s shop, and after devouring half of it, together with a can of Big Soup that I’d heated on the Primus, I was soon packing my gear, before heading for a suburb east of Marseille, called Aubagne.
This was one of the places that I’d intended to visit as soon as I’d began planning my trip. Based in Aubagne is the 4eme Regiment Étrangére – The HQ of the French Foreign Legion. Also here is the Musée de la Légion Étrangére – the ‘Legion Museum. I had last been here in the mid - 80’s, and was surprised at how much I still remembered of the place. I was the only one in the car park, and as it turned out – the only visitor to the museum that morning.
It is difficult to describe here how it felt to be there again – some 25 years later, I still felt part of the machine as it were, and I have to admit, I started to feel a bit overwhelmed as I walked around the museum, remembering previous events from 1980’s. I had been stationed in Djibouti, N.E. Africa, with the 13eme DBLE. Perusing the small shop there, I picked up a couple of relevant items, and headed back out to the car park, & my ‘bike – I quickly snapped back to the reality of life 25 years later, and the next destination for some people watching – St Tropez.
Although it wasn’t raining as such, the roads were becoming damp again, and the traffic heavy along the twisting tree-lined route down to St Tropez itself. The architecture around the centre of the town is stunning. Built from a honey-coloured local sandstone, it’s an old harbour now lined with bars and restaurants. To access the centre in a car would be nigh on impossible. On the ‘bike I ‘negotiated’ some bollards and found myself at the waterfront, with gin-palaces aplenty lining the quay walls. It was like a surreal Hollywood film set, yachts from all over the world, with their owners and crews mingling with those who were maybe there just to try and spot the rich and (in)famous. No one seemed to mind me pottering around the car-less streets on the GS. In fact, the transport of choice in St Tropez seems to be the scooter, as hundreds were parked up wherever there was space.
The weather was still slightly overcast, so I set off East again heading for the final destination for that day – the Principauté de Monaco. On the ferry over from Plymouth I’d picked up copy of ‘Top Gear’ magazine. Reading it at the bar on the ferry I’d discovered that every month they have a short article entitled: “Roads to Drive Before You Die”. In the issue the road described was the D2564:
The D2564 climbs steeply out of Nice heading East across the hills above the coast, before dropping down into Monaco itself. Every month the magazine runs a challenge – ‘get yourself photographed on the RTDBFYD holding a copy, and you’ll appear in a future issue’ – a challenge I couldn’t resist!!
The D2564 is a flowing section of single-carriageway that gives some fantastic views down onto Monaco, before itself turning down-hill in a series of tight hairpin turns through to busy narrow streets, and eventually the harbour itself:
My goal for the night was to get a room at the Riviera Marriott Hotel. I had checked their prices on-line before leaving home, so I knew what to expect – but I was unsure as to how I’d be received turning up without a reservation, & probably looking in need of a decent shower at the very least!
I would have pre-booked, but didn’t know exactly when I was going to be arriving – so this approach was my only option.
The concierge greeted me, and courteously listened to my request for a room, before disappearing into his office to “check room availability & rates sir” he said. A couple of long minutes passed, and he reappeared, confirming that rooms were available, and with a price that matched my earlier research – deal done!!!
I had arrived at 17:30 – and the prospect of finding a campsite in the area was pretty slim, so my relief at getting a room was no doubt pretty evident! I was given directions to their secure underground car park where I could leave the GS, handed a key to my room, and that was it! The car park itself was like a specialist car showroom, Ferraris, Porsches, Bentley, Aston Martin – you name it, and of course a loaded GS with a tired biker on board!
I found a parking slot, and was sorely tempted to utilise my allocated space to the full, and put the tent up next to the ‘bike, just to give it a decent airing plus the chance to dry out. Caution won however, & decided it was probably not the best idea. I carried my gear to the lift, & went up to my room. The place was immaculate, with huge bed, flat-screen TV, Internet Wi-Fi, all of life’s luxuries in fact - and of course, a Mini-Bar!!
I was pretty knackered, so the thought of going out for the evening quickly disappeared. I opted for a couple of beers in the hotel bar instead. Even though we weren’t on the Port Hercule – the main harbour – there were still plenty yachts moored along the waterfront, literally 15 yards from the bar I was sitting in. Not too many people around either, which was exactly how I wanted it – time to reflect on the trip thus far, and take a quiet break from those twisty Pyrenean passes, 80 mph Autoroutes, and Primus stove-heated soup!
Sunday 19th; this morning I was faced with a bit of a dilemma. On the one hand I was tempted to stay another day in Monaco – and on the other the desire to get on the road again. I already had a plan for the next stop, which was a campsite on the Italian side of the Mont Blanc Tunnel. I opted to continue my trip East along the Mediterranean coast into northern Italy, before turning North past Turin, and on toward the Alps.
I climbed out of Monaco, following the Garmin’s directions whilst at the same time trying to take in the scenery around me. This was just one of many glamorous residences in the area:
Heading East the Autoroute took me through/over numerous tunnels and viaducts and the temperature climbed slowly to a very pleasant 27°C, together with clear blue skies and attractive scenery wherever you looked. I nearly came a cropper a couple of times as I tried to interpret both the Garmin’s directions, and Italian signposts. Fortunately I didn’t come to grief, but the Autoroute Toll’s were draining what little cash I was carrying, so once again the Sat Nav came to the rescue – guiding me to an ATM in a slightly less than salubrious suburb of Turin. I spent 30 minutes negotiating tram lines and countless traffic lights (always set to red for some reason), as well as Italian driving – which for some reason reminded me of when I used to work as a despatch rider in central London many moons ago – great fun!! The further North we got – or rather the closer I was getting to the Alps, the more impressive the views became:
I found my way to the campsite, called Camping Monte Bianco 'la Sorgente, which is literally 10 minutes from the tunnel itself:
Lovely views of the mountains, but strangely empty I thought – until I enquired of the owners the likely temperature that night. Neither of us understood one another very well, but when I pointed to the thermometer on the reception wall the internationally recognized word ‘Zero’ told me all I need to know – any thoughts of camping were pushed firmly to the back of my mind as I got back on the GS and kept on heading North, through the Mont Blanc tunnel, and on to Geneva.
This is the view of Mont Blanc from the North. Not visible in the picture, but at least half-a-dozen para-gliders were airborne, all flying well above the tree line.
Geneva is an appealing looking place, wide streets and a seemingly a good atmosphere. I headed for the lakeside near the city centre, for a look across the lake itself, before heading Northeast across the northern shores of Lake Geneva and on toward Lausanne. Here again I turned North, heading for a town called Besançon, and in doing so across the border back into France.
As it became dark so the temperature dropped, and after an hour or so of steady progress I started looking for a place to stay. I tried a couple of interesting looking bar/restaurant/guest-houses along the route but all were full. Finally on the edge of a small town called Pontarlier I found an Ibis Hotel, and although a little less exciting when compared with the past few days fun and games, did at least offer a clean comfortable room for the evening, and a seemingly secure place to park the ‘bike for the night.
Monday 20th; a decent breakfast at the Ibis, and then I was on my way again, leaving Pontarlier at 9a.m., heading North once more for Luxembourg. The route North predominantly followed the N57 across country, eventually joining decent dual carriageway South of Nancy. I arrived in Luxembourg around 13:00, and started looking for a decent hotel. One that would fulfil a couple of criteria; near the city centre, and with its own car park – preferably secure. I had done a bit of research before I’d left, which had thrown up a couple of possibilities, including Le Royal on the Boulevard Royal – right in the city centre itself. The hotel was located on the one-way system that runs around the centre of town, so I rode around in circles a couple of times checking out the hotel and its location, and scanning for anywhere else that might look suitable. On the third circuit I spotted an alternative, the Rix. A tidy looking place, with a well-lit car park right in front - an ideal place for the GS I figured. So, one more circuit around the one-way system, and I pulled into the Rix Hotel. Inside I found a quaint old-fashioned style of hotel. It looked as though its last refit would probably have been back in the 1970’s, but it was clean and well kept – my gut feeling was good, so I booked a room for the night.
Myself showered, and the ‘bike locked up for the night, I ventured out into the heart of the city of Luxembourg. I stopped for a bite to eat on the Place D’armes, before exploring some of the city, quickly finding the Palais Grand Ducal:
Behind this imposing Official Residence is the old part of town. Well away from the designer-shops on the Grand Rue is a network of narrow cobbled streets, with numerous attractive bars and restaurants to choose from.
I sampled one or two of the bars, before returning to the hotel for a nightcap from the mini-bar in my room, and a quick interrogation of the Sat Nav to see what lay ahead – 257 miles between me and the Channel Tunnel the following morning. This was the view from the balcony of my room that evening:
In the car park a Range Rover, a Triumph TR4A, and a dusty GS!! I slept well that night, and was up at 06:45 for breakfast service at 7a.m. At 7:45 on Tuesday 21st September I rolled out of the Rix Hotel car park and headed for the Channel Tunnel, first across Belgium and then into France. The roads were relatively free, and with a full tank of fuel (around 33 litres, over 7 gallons) together with the 130kph (80mph) speed limit I made excellent progress.
During the 10-day trip I think I’d had several lucky breaks, with the roads, the scenery, the campsites that I’d found, and the people that I’d met – and of course being let into that hotel in Monaco! But I think the icing on the cake was arriving at the Calais end of the Channel Tunnel at 11:30 a.m., ten minutes before the next train was due to depart – I was literally the last one onto the train;
At just after 11a.m. (remember, there’s an hour time difference between the UK and Europe) I arrived in Dover, and rode off the Channel Tunnel train, down the slip road and straight on to the M20 heading West. The Sun was shinning, and 4 hours later I was back in Bristol having a pint in my local, the Lazy Dog, on Ashley Down Road, Horfield.
10 days, 2350 miles – Job done!!!
Like to say a quick 'thanks!!' to everyone on the UK GS'ers site - sound advice and inspiration, 2011 awaits!!
