Him and her holiday, Pyrenees.

[Giles]

Bloody brilliant trip. photos and write-up, thanks.

What is the yellow triangle on the clocks for? It's always on - is it a warning lamp for alerting the rider to flower-picking stops?

A

I have two wheel sets - the OE wheels have TKC's on and this second hand cast set have pure road rubber. (Roadsmarts). I haven't synchronised them to the bike (yet) so the triangle is the tyre pressure warning thing that probably thinks i've got flat tyres.

 

[SM46]

Great ride report Giles, really spookey tho' as wifey & i stayed in that same hotel in Mirepoix (Madam Edith on the front desk) during our June jaunt to the Pyrenees, the town square was definately worth a visit . We also stayed at the hotel in the square at Laruns (next to your bike in the piccy), enjoying the write up, thanks for posting

 

[Giles]

DAY 7
Rest day at Gedre.

We woke (woke - not got up ) at 1030hrs.

I quickly dressed and downstairs found our breakfast still layed out, made my apologies to Phillipe the owner and took coffee and croissants outside to the terrace. It was a beautiful morning.

Whilst Rosy faffed with hair and makeup and what ever else girls do that takes so blinking long, I got chatting with a retired English couple who stopped for coffee as well.
They had chosen to sell up in Blighty and move out lock stock to somewhere about four hours North. (Two inches to the right of Bordeaux the lady explained). They were interesting. They both spoke fluent French and had made a real effort to intergrate into their new society.
And so the conversation turned to moving abroad, health care, growing old, where would you want to die and be buried, grand children etc etc.

Ummmmmmm ... all food for thought. My kids will both be 20+ in five or six years time, but could I move out completely? is there a part of me that will always long for England? And the reality is, that whilst I could afford to sell here and move out, I couldn't afford to own two homes.
The retired chap was an ex Tanker Captain and he told me that I had to go to the end of the valley because it was so stunning.
I twisted Rosy's arm into more bike riding, and despite our planned day of rest, we saddled up with empty panniers and took the two forks that headed up into the mountains.

Tanker captain was right - it was pretty spectacular and my poor old Sony cybershot just can't do it justice.

The road led us to 'Le cirque de Troumouse' and it really was like being on another planet.

The wind bit, it was colder and running about on the embankments to play at being David Bailey got me out of breath quickly. But well worth shoving our leathers back on for.

On the way down a cyclist stopped and we shared a joke or two about something or other (cats .. dogs .. Gawd knows what he was saying ) and I turned down his kind offer of swapping bikes for the day. (Although his carbon bike at about 6kg was pretty impressive!)

Rosy went hunting for .... oh ... great ... this time it's feckin' stones So now my tank bag is bursting at the seams with Flowers, conkers and bloody rocks ... Sigh, thank God I'm a boy ....

There was a great opportunity for a really good 'prospective front page shot' With the whole snow capped mountains in the backdrop, there was a cute little baby hump in the road with little trees and coochy coo bits of wooden balustrades framing it. I thought about dumping Rosy off and pulling a minger over the little hump with Rosy in charge of the camera, but ... sigh ... Rosy and camera settings is like me and sewing machines. it would have been a disaster

So instead we plumbed for Iced tea and Bread and cheese.

'Tother fork at the end of Gedre took us to an equally stunning landscape ..

.. after which we wound our way back down to the village.

Andres (outtomunch) talks of little things that make up a good holiday ..

I remember this ..

See the smoke in the left of the picture? As we wound down the mountain, that valley floor image that's so seductive loomed into view, and with it the smell of somebodies bonfire. Simple things!! But it was heavenly Cold wind, visor up, the smell of burning leaves and the sound of cow bells ding-donging somewhere below us. Kids - you don't mind if Daddy fecks off when you finish at Uni do you ? 'Cos this life here is pulling all my heart strings

We spent the afternoon chilling out, Rosy got up to date with her journal, and I played with the hotel cat. Interestingly, I have never felt a cat so solid. He was Arnold schwarzenthingy on steroids. His shoulders felt like a flipping Pitbull and for something that wasn't that big, he was seriously heavy. 'He's always fighting' Phillipe joked ..

That night we had a great meal. Stuffed to the hilt I contemplated whether I should attempt a dessert having already had about four courses. Ohhhhhhhhh feck it ... Go for it.

Oh gawd ... like the waffer thin mint man, I slowly scraped clean my plate of chocolate delights, much to the amusement of the diners next to me.

'Je suis en touriste !!!' I explained to them. We all had a good laugh.

We packed our bags ready for an early start, and I collapsed in to bed, ready to explode.

 

[Den]

Nice-one Giles. Makes my holiday ramblings look like scribbles on the back of an envelope.

When were you there? We stayed just down from Florac 3 weeks ago, for a week. You could have dropped in for a cuppa and let Rosy use the toilet.

 

[Ogmios]

Great writing and great pics Giles.
Though The Ogs have taken a few tours through them thar hills - we've obviously not seen the half of it.
You mention familiar names and places - just seeing them in text makes me ache!
You make me want to book a ferry and go again!
As for moving there - if i could come up with a way of earning my keep - i'd move tomorrow!

keep going mate.

 

[Giles]

DAY 8

Gedre to Cajarc, 250+ miles, accommodation at http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_...ws-La_Segaliere-Cajarc_Lot_Midi_Pyrenees.html

Today was potentially going to be quite a long day, but I did know that most of the roads would deliver a reasonable pace. Not too many tiny B roads today.

So we hit the road before 0900 and headed off for Tourmalet. Another gorgeous morning

Tourmalet is well used to big cycle races, and the floor is littered with good wishes from the cycling fans. We saw lots of 'Wiggo' 'Cav' and for some reason, dozens of little sperms wriggling their way to the summit

During our climb I had one of those heart skipping moments - the bike suddenly made the most God awful noise of clattering and banging, and a world of recovery trucks, expensive bills and flights home flashed before my eyes. before I had time to whip the clutch in a helicopter flew about thirty yards over our heads You Bastard !!!!!!!!

The view from the top was, well frankly after three days of the same, pretty average! I was bloody exhausted having cycled all that way

We pushed on down the other side, and bumped into Wapping again, confused and wandering about in the middle of the road.

'OI Trixie!!' I shouted out ... he looked round ..

'Get out the bleedin' road ..'
We passed llama like things, (Alpacas ??) and then came across the helicopter pick up point where they were re-fuelling.

And so the road went on, the minutes turned into half hours, the coffee kicked my bladder and we found a quick stop (for more coffee ).

Inspired by the 'Then and Now' thread, and some black and white photos in the cafe, I asked madam if I could gently stand on her chairs to photograph pictures high up on her wall;

After a ten minute stop we drifted up the road to the Col D'aspin. First impressions were all pretty mediocre, untill we saw the far side.

Wow! It was just stunning.

 

[johnnyboy]

Glad to see my better half isn't the only one who wants to load the bike up with stones/flowers/sea shells and other odd bits?? to take home. Enjoying your tales of derring-do.

 

[Micky]

Fantabidosy

 

[Duchess]

Amazing

I really enjoyed that read, thank you so much Giles, that was fab!

and Rosy you are a diamond! Hope we catch up again sometime soon.

 

[Giles]

Nice-one Giles. Makes my holiday ramblings look like scribbles on the back of an envelope.

When were you there? We stayed just down from Florac 3 weeks ago, for a week. You could have dropped in for a cuppa and let Rosy use the toilet.

Got back on Saturday Den.

 

[Nutty]

I'm enjoying this, but we could do without the semi naked pictures of you Giles

 

[JohnnyBoxer]

Cracking read, top stuff........................you inspired me to drag my arse out & onto the bike this morning, just reading this

Epic

 

[Giles]

D'Aspin was pretty amazing, I had a bit of banter with a lady cyclist (about her legs ) who in turn took our photo. We made our way down the other side into the valley below.

And from here sort of cut across country towards Luchon, and then spookily (I'd forgotton what I'd planned on the sat nav) we actually rode past the hotel at Bourg D'Oueil as we climbed up and over on back roads.

We found a great road (D925) that ran North and found a pic-nic spot. We'd made a pack up from our breakfast and sat in the sun in the middle of nowhere. It was another sort of flash back to the Spanish day where we'd sat with an apple and a muffin! This time we really pushed the boat out with cheese and ham rolls and a bottle of water! I played at David Bailey again as Rosy basked in the sun. We were there for maybe an hour or so, just soaking it up. I think two farmers drove past in all that time - both in pickups with a panting dog.

It was another one of those great moments of just putting life on pause and letting time stand still. Of all the photos I'd choose to frame as a keep sake of our holiday, it'd be one of those - for the moment it represented. very special.

Two or three miles further north we flew under several eagles, we stopped and watched them circle above us. Have a look at the 'tunnel' of trees in the distance where the road goes ...

...the most amazing thing happened ...
We rode round a corner and I had to do a virtual emergency stop. A huge eagle was on the side of the road (with a kill I'm guessing) and I darn near ran over it. It couldn't get airborne quick enough and jumped two or three lurches infront of me like a great big buzzard before it's huge wings took one giant flap, and then another. 'Fucking hell' I shouted, Rosy just screamed out loud .. it was incredible. The eagle couldn't climb because of the trees over head, it had no choice but to fly forward in the tunnel that was the road and the overhead branches with us about ten feet from its tail feathers chasing it WOW!!! For twenty yards or so and like some Harry Potter special effect, this monster of a bird with wings like cricket bats sat infront of us at 10 - 15 mph until it could climb out of the overhanging branches.
We were hollering out loud with amazement and stopped the second it was able to fly high ... here;

We couldn't stop talking about it . Ok, it's only a bird, but it was bloody amazing to be in touching distance of something so incredible.

With a heavy heart we said goodbye to the Pyrenees as we continued North. We stopped in a lay-by and took one last photo South bound before facing North and riding off. I kept stealing the odd glimpse of distant mountains in my mirrors and have to say, I felt pretty sad to be leaving them behind.

Motorway to Toulouse, and then those classic, plane tree lined A roads to Cajarc.

The logis in Cajarc is another hotel that gets my blessing - if there's a group of you planning a trip it's particularly good. Doesn't look much from the outside, but it has a great feel inside, is very roomy and would ideally suit a large motorcycle tour. I've stayed there several times

Rosy and I wandered the three hundred yards or so into town for a drink and a meal. We stopped in a local sort of general store run by a charming South African guy called Gavin.

Gavin came over twenty years ago after seeing an advert for labour in exchange for board, lodgings and food. He'd worked on a house not far from here and had fallen in love with the place. He was married and had a son at Albi university. Interestingly though, he also had a daughter back in S.A. and had only seen his grandchild once in three years.
So here was the other end of the scale, unlike the retired Tanker captain, Gavin was clearly very homesick, and was itching to get back home. (so much so that the business is for sale if you're interested...!). We bought a few trinkets for the kids - I bought an opinel pen knife to go with my tactical washing line and we wished Gavin well. Nice bloke

We sat drinking in the late afternoon sun as Gavin cycled home - he cheerily waved to us from his cranky heavy steel bike shouting out where we could eat that evening! All that was missing was some onions round his neck - it was a classic French scene.

We ambled home to the hotel after a simple meal. Rosy stuffed her forehead into some rose thorns in saying hello to a dog in a nearby garden, and life was lazy, warm and good.

 

[Micky]

C'mon lad .... get on with it

 

[Deleted account 211025001]

I can appreciate the thing with the eagle, it must have been amazing

Fifteen years ago or so in the Pyrenees I was bimbling along a ridge with an old girlfriend on our bikes with the cloud line below us and we had an eagle fly along side us for a km or two, only 100m or so away - to this day it still send shivers down my spine thinking about it. Such beautiful birds.

Anyway...........get on with it!

Andres

 

[Giles]

DAY 9

300 Miles, Cajarc to Blois, staying overnight at http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_...rge_Ligerienne-Blois_Loire_Valley_Centre.html



Today was our last full day with overnight stop, there were a few miles to do so again, we made the efort to get up early and be on the road before 0900.

It was another misty start, and like the last few mornings had been, was cold but promised great things later on. We were going to head West along the river Lott towards Cahors.

I remember quite clearly, doing the thirty miles or so with my visor up. It was such a beautiful morning that I wanted to smell it, taste it, feel the smart of the early morning cold on my cheeks. Every time I flipped my visor down I seemed to loose that connection. Despite the chill, that damp morning sting and those watery cold eyes were addictive.

It was the wrong end of the day for lazy Gin, the song 'Summertime', Tom sawyer and Huckleberry Finn fishing on a sultry afternoon, but that's how it felt even at just gone nine - that expectation of things to come hung in the air. There was a sense of calmness and tranquility, so we pootled - probably didn't go faster than 40mph.

The mist was very atmospheric, and hung around the river for the entire journey to Cahors. Like leaving the Parador in Spain, we saw the sun shine, but couldn't quite get into it. It teased us terribly - because the roads were quite Tarn gorge like with high walls along side us, it kept us in the shade. From time to time the twists in the river meant we'd actually face south for a few hundred yards, with the odd break in the tree line we soaked up every minute of sunshine we got.

It was so quiet Again, in the space of an hour we hardly passed any other traffic. We rode through the odd little cluster of houses, little hamlets of one small church and a dozen or so dwellings, and they all pretty much said the same thing - 'life here is calm and peaceful'. They also said to me 'Oi!! be quiet with yer noisy twin pot motorbike will yer..' I felt a bit guilty having a nose down the little lanes in the hamlets - it wasn't exactly early any more but the big twin reverberated against the stone walls and shattered the peace

We started to climb, my mirrors suddenly steamed up, and then the long expectation was over - we burst into a gorgeous warm sunshine.

There was only one thing to do! Stop, drink coffee and soak it up

I parked up next to somebodies old trailey. It was the most natural thing in the world. Why would you have any other sort of bike in a land like this!

Twenty minutes later we were heading North, and five minutes into that, the satnav froze.
Intrepid explorer that I am, I just knew before we left, that it had that potential. I'd packed the tiny tiny allen key that was needed to take the battery off and on again to re-boot it. It took all of three minutes, I played it down to Rosy, but secretly gave myself a big hug for being so bloody switched on to have thought the scenario through weeks prior

We Rode to Racamodour, crossed the Dordogne, and pushed on North.

I don't know why we didn't do packed lunches earlier in the trip, but we'd made another today, and it was great being able to choose exactly where to stop and eat.
We chose a bench in some small town square somewhere, there was a small arty crafty market going on and I bought Rosy a little polished stone necklace

The necklaces were cotton and stone and were made by a French girl who had spent a long time travelling in South America and Mexico. There was something a little bit Aztec about the her work. When I mentioned it her eyes lit up and she told us all about her travels and how she's learned this style of sort of croched cotton work in mexico and had started her business when she came back home. She was lovely, and heavily pregnant. I gave her the last of our dark chocolate and she laughed and smiled.
Funny innit? The passing of just a few minutes with folk you'll never ever meet again, but that connection sometimes with good kind people. Sigh.

We hit the Autoroute and nailed it the two hours or so to Chateauroux.

My tyre was getting very squared off and I tried to spend as much time as I could 'off' up right. Ironically, one of the teaching things that often comes up in the Rapid stuff, is swoopy overtakes I always tell peepes to step out first in a sort of up right way, get their view and then nail it. Swoop gives you bad tyre grip trade off, it pushes you further out to the off side than is necessary, makes your overtake wider (slower!) and not so clinical.
Well here was me on the A20 swooping about between the lanes trying to stay off the centre of my tyre for about 130 miles! . It must have looked shite

All of that was a waste of time though! the last hour to Blois goes through that oh so typical agricultural flat land that France has. Mile after mile of dead straight, windy roads

From Arable, to grape to village, every bloody road was as straight as a die

The Blois logis we stayed in is right by the river, and only a five minute walk into the town centre.

Another recommended hotel .

That night we wandered, drank, saw a few sights and had a lovely last holiday night meal. Rosy challenged me to a race up the steps to the Chateau. Oh dear Rosy, you need to get yourself fit!!

We found a cracking little restaurant, and got one of the last tables as early as about half seven. Obviously a locals favourite. It was hobo, a bit 'La Boheme' and utterly charming.

Blois is a nice town.

 

[earthmover]

[I washed my hair with several pairs of used pants and socks ]

Is this more effective than the shower gel pinched from previous hotels then?
Mark

 

[2 wheel humvee]

Fantastic Giles an enjoyable read

 

[Deleted account 211025001]

Is that it?

We want more, we want more

Andres

 

[Giles]

yes yes yes ... (petulant child... ) last day to come but I've got to cook supper first ....