Kites and Cathedrals - a Mini-Ride Report

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I'll have to do this in a few goes, as photos are reluctant to upload to Smugmug, so please bear with me.

As mentioned in an earlier thread, this year's last weekend in France saw a friend and I looking for a destination. Really, it was just an excuse for a ride and a night away, but last year we went to the Fete de Lumiere in Chartres. But it rained last year, which put something of a dampener on the evening, so we headed back again. A quick scan on Google also gace details of the International Kite festival in Dieppe. That was vaguely on the way, so we called in.

It is almost obligatory to include a photo of bikes on the shuttle. We were on the 06:50 with only one other bike (a bloke heading for Vianden on the Luxembourg/Germany border). Being nice chaps, we shared our croissants and coffee with him - he had ridden down from London, whereas we had had an arduous journey of around five minutes from home. But that five minutes was enough to get a little chilly...

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If you've travelled by bike on Eurotunnel, you'll know there's nowhere to put the hanger that in a car goes in the windscreen. Clothes pegs on the screen can work, but that implies you'll remember to bring an outsized clothes peg with you. I never do. But for those with a K1200GT, the problem is easily solved. Raise the screen, hold the hanger under neath the screen supports, lower the screen and the hanger is held in place in the perfect. Any guesses as to what make and model they based the picture of a motorbike on?

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We took the autoroute as far as Abbeville, which only involves a short stretch of tolls. Still, managing to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, I avoided the manned toll booth and found myself being charged the car rate. Some properly automated booths detect what vehicle you're on, but not this one. Pressing the assistance button connected me to someone somewhere, but through helmet and earplugs I couldn't really make out any details, like gender, language, etc. After bellowing in my pidgin French towards the machine a few times it magically changed from classe 1 to classe 5, reducing the toll by a euro or two.

Heading up to the coast at Le Treport, then along the coast(ish) to Dieppe was a pleasant enough jaunt. Then we approached Dieppe and found - surprise surprise - the harbour area was surprisingly picturesque (no doubt helped by the lovely weather). There's a large lifting bridge by the fish market, which held us up for a few minutes, but the harbour towards the beach is lined with nice-looking restautants. Dieppe lands 97% of the world's shellfish, or something like that.

Following round to la Plage, and there is a large park-like area 'twixt hotels /apartments and the beach itself. There are no old buildings at all in Dieppe town at all, following a little local difficulty in the 1940's, but there is a castle-type affair overlooking the beach. Whether it is original or a modern replica needs more research than I have hitherto carried out.

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It was apparent that the event was very popular - cars parked everywhere, and having ridden the length of the seafront and not found a space, we tried to go back. Unfortunately they had closed the seafront road in one direction and trying to get back meant diverting through the labyrinth of streets in the town. It was hot by now, the narrow streets were all one way and the only way to go the 'other' way involved using the seafront road that had been closed. After three laps of getting stuck in an infinity loop, I realised I was experiencing the same sense of deja vu for the third time. Anyway, we decided that as we were not staying all day and were foreigners (and bearign in mind that in the past British visitors to Dieppe have generally been welcomed), we would park on a pavement. When we came back, it seemed we'd started a trend, with bikes spreading out behind ours.

A couple of beach photos. A pebbly beach, with pale imitation White Cliffs of Dover, but still the occasional deck chair to be seen...

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Now, I can't pretend to be a kite enthusiast, but even for a grumpy cynic like me, it was hard not to be impressed by the number and variety of kites. I took a load of photos but they don't really convey the whole effect. So here's a small selection. Some of them were huge. Kite aerobatics is a big thing, and we watched a couple of displays to music. These are really impressive for about a minute. The teams run through their routines with pretend little kites on bamboo sticks. The last kite photo gives some idea of the number of kites flying, but still doesn't quite capture the scale.

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Some teams have a number of members with one kite each, but this guy - known in kiting circles as a 'clever dick,' I believe - flew three kites at the same time and had them wheeling and performing in unison.

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Now, just in case a weekend of watching kites at the seaside and some spotlights on a big church cathedral wasn't quite poncy enough already, Richard prodcued something to out-gay everything - some home-made lemon drizzle cake left over form one he'd had to make for work. It was even packaged with its own spoon and serviette. I'm beginning to wonder about Richard... (It was very good cake, though.)

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Anyway, after a lunch from the marquee it was time to head across flat and boring Northern France for Chartres.

More to follow...
 
If you've travelled by bike on Eurotunnel, you'll know there's nowhere to put the hanger that in a car goes in the windscreen. Clothes pegs on the screen can work, but that implies you'll remember to bring an outsized clothes peg with you.



I seem to remember Trixie de la Rue Commercial having a clothes peg welded to his screen. Must have gone with his on bike umbrella holder ... :thumb2
 
Robin,

Enjoyed this so far, now awaiting next instalment please.

However I am regularly told by my 21 yr old daughter that I am Gay:roll
 
I seem to remember Trixie de la Rue Commercial having a clothes peg welded to his screen. Must have gone with his on bike umbrella holder ... :thumb2

Yes, he does indeed.

Personally, my view is this: BMW have spent millions of Euros and thousands of hours of research in a wind tunnel, ensuring the aerodynamics of the screen best meet the rigorous demands of minimising drag and allowing clean airflow. And what does the intrepid Wapping Wanderer do? Sticks a bleeding great clothes peg on the screen!

(I should stress my companion on last weekend's insurgence into Normandy was a different Richard, on a Ducati ST4S.)
 
So, with cricked necks and sunburnt faces, it was time to quit Dieppe and head for Chartres. The planned route was pretty much due south from Dieppe, but avoiding motorways and following the trusty green-lined roads on a the Michelin map of Normandy.

I've not really ridden in Normandy much - my only previous trip stuck to the coast. That was good, and you get to see some interesting sites relating to the WW2 landings, but the scenery wasn't great. Heading inland was a revelation. The route we took had a huge variety of roads, from the occasional long straight main road to very small country lanes (more like English lanes than typical French ones, which tend to be wider). The lanscape, while not dramtically mountainous, is hilly enough to be interesting and the roads were generally twisty enough to be fun without being too worried about speeding and fines.

But the huge contrast to the UK is just the lack of traffic. The occasional car to justify the occasional overtake, but never enough to be in a queue. Along with good road surfaces, it made for as enjoyable a day's ride as I can remember for a long time.

The last section into Chartres from Dreux is pretty hard to make exciting - it is pretty flat and the roads cut through huge fields of grain. But by that stage I'd had just about enough of riding and it was good to finish the last few miles on fast dual carriageway.

As you approach Chartres, you crest a small rise and you're faced with the cathedral in the distance. It completely dominates the town - in fact from tne miles away all you can see is the cathedral. It stands on a bit of a hill and (without getting too sentimental about it all) you can only imagine the feelings it must have generated back in the 1200's when your average French peasant or pilgrim hadn't seen anything taller than had never seen
anything taller than a big tree. A photo here would have been good. I didn't take one, but here's something from the web:

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Heading into the town centre, it was immediately obvious the place was packed. All the roads were closed with barriers (something the hotel website had told us would happen) but we squeezed past and the had to weave through old narrow streets full of pedestrians. Without the sat nav I think we'd still be looking for the hotel now - although we knew it was right next to the cathedral itself, we'd never have found it. Hotel found, we unpacked and headed out into the night.

The plan was to fidn a central restaurant, have a huge meal and plenty of beers, then wander out to look at the Cathedral. Base don lastyear's experience, that shoudl have been fine. Unfortunately, there was not a restaurant in town with any space. One waiter told us this, but I dismissed it as being some justification for his own establishemnt's lack of space. But we wandered around and the story was the same everywhere. So after a quick pint of a beer with an amusing name that I can't remember - Coq Stinki or something like that - we enjoyed the quintessentially French delights of a McDonalds meal.

Then it was off to the main event, the computrised projections onto the enormous face of the cathedral. this started off with a couple of acrobats/dancers springing up and down on wires. Mildly impressive for a minute or two. But following on the same day from the kites, there were some cervical twinges involved.

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After they'd let them down off their bungees, it was time for the projections. These were REALLY impressive - honestly they were, an animated light show, loud music. The chances of being able to portray anything like the majesty and grandeur through photos taken in the dark are, frankly, minimal. So, get yourself a cup of tea, and flick through these. Alternatively, put the kettle on, skip through the photos while it's boiling, then enjoy the rest of Gavin and Stacey with your cuppa.

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Away from the cathedral, the gardens and older buildings are lit up in a slightly less moder way. There was a terrace covered in chopped up paper lit by ultra-violet light. Kids chucked the paper up in the air, which passes for entertainment for French kids. However, one girl was wearing a t-shirt that glowed bright orange. The photo looks almost artistic.

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So, after a wander round, down to the river and back again, it was time for bed.

Sunday did not run altogether to plan. More to follow...
 
Sunday's plans were set. The hotel were very keen to stress that we must be checked out by 10 a.m. The route back was set - different roads, slightly to the east of the route down. Leisurely Sunday lunch in Lyons-la-Foret, head back to Coquelles for the 8 pm shuttle.

The best laid plans of mice and men...

Staurday night did not bring the best of sleep - activities were going on in the town late into the night, but Richard's snoring was of Olympic standard. thebeer consumed the night before needed letting out three or four times and each time, gettign back to sleep was impossible due to the grunting, wheezing and snuffling from my room-mate. There was clearly some five-star farting going on too; the air in the room was pure methane. So I opened the window. More noise from outside.

I gave in and put earplugs in.

At 05:39 I heard the siren of a distant police car or ambulance, very quiet, but loud enough to wake me. Except it was in fact hotel's the fire alarm which, without earplugs in was deafening. So we pulled on last night's trousers and jumper and traipsed outside in the cool morning air. We didn't use the lift, obviously.

Even after 20 minutes oldies were still shuffling out. if there had been a fire, they'd have been toast. The rumour was that someone had been smoking in their room. Personally, I wouldn't have been so hasty to rule out the methane from our room.

Anyway, up way earlier than expected, we had breakfast and set off. Roads were great, Sunday-morning empty, and the same variety or different roads as the previous day. Riding over flat land it is easy to forget there are valleys criss-crossing the landscape. As you approach the Seine, by far the biggest river in the area, you see the hills to the North of the river. Crossing the river at Bonnieres, the road immediatley after the river is almost Alpine for a short while as it cuts through the limestone cliffs. Each bend brings a better view of the river and the valley but with nowhere to stop and enjoy it.

As luck would have it, at the top there is a nice viewpoint with a car park. We pulled in to take some photos. Richard casually mentioned that his tyre pressure indicator for his back wheel was playing up. After a smoke and wee, I came back to find him wiping spit onto a stone embedded in his rear tyre. The tell-tale little bubbles showed the pressure indicator was working after all. I think it would not have impressed Richard to point this out at the time.

So, Sunday lunchtime in France and a deflating rear tyre. What to do? As the tyre was only a bit flt, we got on as quickly as we could and headed for the nearest sizeable town, called Vernon. We toyed with the idea of repairing the tyre with the repair kit I had, but decided with 180 miles to go and limited experience of using the kit, it would be safer and better to get the tyre repaired or replaced properly. So from Vernon, the call was made to Carole Nash breakdown recovery.

Our expectation was that it might take an hour to get someone out to mend the tyre, or a couple of hours to get the bike taken to a bike shop or tyre place to have a new tyre fitted. In fact, Carole Nash called back after 30 mins to say it was Sunday, everywhere wa sshut, so instead they would recover the bike back to Calais. Eurotunnel do not take broken down vehicles, so Richard would have to go to Calais, catch a ferry, and recovery would then meet him at Dover to take him and his bike home. This seemed like the most expensive option possible. Richard suggested tehy could put him up in hotel in Vernon and have his tyre replaced on Monday and ride home, but they weren't happy with that.

So after a futher hour and a half sat in the sunshine at a cafe in the Moroccan quarter of Vernon, a car and trailer arrived, loaded up his bike, and they departed for Calais. That left me to ride home alone , which was fine. The enforced early start meant I still had plenty of time to follow the route we'd planned, through some lovely countryside, but it isn't quite the same on your own. But a nice ride nonetheless.

Back to Eurotunnel on time, but a bit of a downer to be travelling home alone. Shared the shuttle with four blokes, three of whom were on lovely original 916's, returning from a 10-day trip to the Alps.

And so to bed...

(I'll add a few last day photos later.)
 
Aww what a sad end to a great trip. I used to come across to France a few times a year, mainly round Normandy and Brittany for exactly the reasons you describe. Empty, well-surfaced scenic roads which were a joy to drive after being cooped up in the south-east of England.
Chartres is an amazing sight from a distance. The cathedral was ordered to be blown up in WWII but saved by an interpid soldier who was posthumously awarded the DSC for saving it.

From Wikipedia

World War II

All the glass from the cathedral was removed in 1939 just before the Germans invaded France, and it was cleaned after the War and releaded before replacing.

While the city suffered heavy damage by bombing in the course of World War II, the cathedral was spared by an American Army officer who challenged the order to destroy it.[18]

Colonel Welborn Barton Griffith, Jr. questioned the strategy of destroying the cathedral and volunteered to go behind enemy lines to find out whether the German Army was occupying the cathedral and using it as an observation post. With a single enlisted soldier to assist, Griffith proceeded to the cathedral and confirmed that the Germans were not using it. After he returned from his reconnaissance, he reported that the cathedral was clear of enemy troops. The order to destroy the cathedral was withdrawn, and the Allies later liberated the area. Griffith was killed in action on 16 August 1944, in the town of Leves, near Chartres.
 
Now if you'd taken a stop 'n go tyre plugger kit with you .... :rob
 
Now if you'd taken a stop 'n go tyre plugger kit with you .... :rob

I had a kit. He didn't. If I'd let him use mine and then I'd had a puncture, what then? :D

Actually, we discussed whether we should use it or not but he decided he didn't want to rely on it. We've since repaired the tyre (if only because neither of us had used one in anger and we wanted to have a go in the confort of his garage) and the first attempt failed miserably. The second attempt seems to be holding pressure ok. But the tyre is pretty much worn out anyway, so a replacement is on the cards.
 
well not wishing to detract from your wonderful ride report and go off topic ......

... get yer self a stop 'n go kit.

I've used the do-nut style repair kits and don't particularly rate them - more often than not you tear the do-nut trying to push it into the hole. The stop 'n go system is pretty faultless. Even repaired a colleagues tyre at a track day a month or two back and he carried on .... :thumb
 
The Hotellerie St Yves in Chartres. Very central location, impossible to find without a sat nav.

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The viewpoint over the Seine, where the suspected duff tyre pressure indicator first reared its head:

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This French chappie had his mobile phone bluetoothed to his speakers on his huge purple Harley, so the tranquility was disturbed by the other side of his phone conversation. The thing is, the woman he was talking to was just talking gibberish.

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The sneaky sharp bit of stone embedded in rear Michelin:

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Place de Vieux Rene, the Moroccan Quarter of Vernon:

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Ducati ST4S almost ready for its trip to the Channel Ports:

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Three lovely 916's sharing the shuttle home. Lovely looking bikes, perhaps the best looking modern bike, but after a trip to the Alps the riders weren't moving particularly freely!

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Saw this waiting to load - first time I've seen one in the flesh. I started thinking it looked quite nice but after a few minutes it dawned on me that it was actually ugly.

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What's the difference between a stop and go kit and a normal bung kit, then?


In a nut shell the stop 'n go application gizmo is a bit like a syringe that is pushed into the hole. The mushroom is then syringed into the tyre, pulling the syringe out afterwards leaves the mushrooms stalk exposed that you then cut off.

It's the best system out there ... :thumb2


(Google it yer lazy feck wit ... )
 
In a nut shell the stop 'n go application gizmo is a bit like a syringe that is pushed into the hole. The mushroom is then syringed into the tyre, pulling the syringe out afterwards leaves the mushrooms stalk exposed that you then cut off.

It's the best system out there ... :thumb2


(Google it yer lazy feck wit ... )

Google? At work? It's provided for official searches only...
 
Phew .... just as well up loading picture book stories to yer mates is allowed .... :)
 
I work in a similar environment - I just let every body off 'cos I'm such a nice bloke ... :D
 
In a nut shell the stop 'n go application gizmo is a bit like a syringe that is pushed into the hole. The mushroom is then syringed into the tyre, pulling the syringe out afterwards leaves the mushrooms stalk exposed that you then cut off.

It's the best system out there ... :thumb2


(Google it yer lazy feck wit ... )

Having sufferd a puncture 10 miles from home a couple of weeks ago, and after looking at the state of my repair kit, I decided to ride it home standing over the front wheel. This improved my sand riding ability although the smell of tortured rubber was a bit overpowering.
Anyway, having watched a few youtube vids of the stop n go, I have ordered on of these impressive little devices.
Just to add, it is the stop & go pocket tyre plugger you refer to, as the stop & go repair kit uses the old eye and liquorice system and the stop & go tyre plugger has a trigger gun type affair.
So to confirm, it's the STOP & GO POCKET TYRE(cuz there is no fuckin i in tyre) PLUGGER.

So thanks for the lead Giles, I can't see me going to the garage for punctures with this little beauty! :thumb

Great report in your usual witty way Robin .... and nice sharp images too - apart from the shaky one that is only natural when looking at a 916. :drool

Are you allowed to check your own passport - Just curious?
 
Are you allowed to check your own passport - Just curious?


Robin doesn't just check his own passport - he makes it.

Here he is working on his Sonic comms kit ... :thumb2



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