June 9, 2018
Into the Bordelais
I was over-optimistic today, but more on that later. The day started well enough. After the early morning rain, during which I edited this journal and are a small breakfast, I rode the five kilometers from La Tremblade to Arvert and there I found a SuperU mega-store and in the parking lot there was this:
Once upon a time , in a website far away, Léo Woodland wrote an article about touring in France. It was , on the whole, an excellent introduction to our country but it lacked one piece of advice for long-haulers, namely where to get your clothes clean. The chain that is SuperU has been installing these self service laundromat or laveries all over France. They are open 24/7 and since SuperU's are found even in small towns like Arvert, they are super handy.
It took about an hour to wash and dry. After that the ride was an uneventful series of villages until I got to Royan. I re-found EV1 which led me down to the harbor where I could get the ferry that would take me across the estuary of the Gironde. At the ferry terminal bikes and pedestrians have their own lane to get on board and there were several tourers making the crossing. We formed a nervous queue waiting for the boat, and with many of the riders either Dutch, German or Spanish lack of a common language kept us from chatting.
I had failed to find a sandwich in Royan before the ferry sailed, but there was a snack bar aboard and I got something to eat before the boat even left the dock. As I was paying I noticed the guy behind me in line was the same fellow who had passed me the day before as I neared Yves, just south of Rochefort. I said hello and he invited me to join him at a table. We chatted about the joys of cycle touring , the weather in Iceland, the midges in Scotland, and where to get a decent meal in Germany among other things. Before either of us noticed it the ferry had arrived in Pointe de Grave and we said our goodbyes and ran for our bikes as the ship was almost empty. I never got the guy's name, though, and there are no photos of the crossing as I had intended.
Rather than jump right on the bike trail that ends a few hundred meters from the port, I took the streets into Verdon-sur-Mer, a completely quiet and uninteresting town. Repenting my ways, I got back on the bike path into Soulac. There I came out onto the waterfront and found a miniature copy of the Statue of Liberty or as we know it libertie eclarit la monde. This one was apparently erected to commemorate Lafayette's last glimpse of French soil as he sailed off to join the American revolution.
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As I rode further south from Soulac on the bike path, the skies got progressively darker. I turned away from the coast toward Greyan-et-l'Hopital and met a swarm of oncoming Dutch cyclists out for a spin with a guide. The path became more rudimentary finally losing its hard surface and becoming sand and stone. As I traversed a marshland, it began to rain so I dug out the poncho and donned it. As is often they way of such things, it very soon stopped raining and I had to repackage the the poncho to avoid being sweated to death. The sun returned, and I re-coated myself with sunscreen. The trail ended and I began riding on a series of straight, boring, tree-lined roads. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I emerged into the famous Bordelais vineyards.
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At just going on ninety kilometers for the day, I reached Lesparres-Médoc. The one hotel was full. Ditto the one campground and the one bed and breakfast. I had apparently arrived during rallye weekend and the motersport enthusiasts had invaded the town. I would have to continue my ride to Pauillac if I were to have any chance of finding a place to sleep tonight. Onward I went with a slight tailwind to help me. The first hotel I cam to in Pauillac was full, but they informed me that there would probably be space at the four star Cordellian Bages, and feeling knackered and not a little sorry for myself after all the extra effort there I went.
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The hotel is owned by the same folks who own the Chateau Lynch Bages, which if you are an oenophile should give you an idea of the kind of luxury image they try to project. Back when I guided wine tours in Burgundy my clients wanted this kind of delux accommodations and we were very happy to provide them with such. We were also happy to take a nice chunk of their money to be their providers. As a matter of fact, the company I worked with uses this very hotel on its Bordeaux wine tours and I enjoyed talking to the staff about mutual acquaintances. Chateau Cordellian Bages also houses a Michelin starred restaurant, so I booked a table for the evening.
Léo Woodland and I agree on politics, cycling, how to get a proper lunch at a reasonable price, which language to speak, and why Paris Roubaix is such a great bike race, but we don't agree on everything. One thing he doesn't like and I do is a picture of well presented food. In deference to Léo I will limit the number of pictures I show you of my meal, but I will show you this:
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With a tasting of three different wines to accompany the vichyssoise with melon and shrimp, quail, and cheeses, I was replete. I quickly fell asleep in a gastronomic haze.
Today's ride: 126 km (78 miles)
Total: 413 km (256 miles)
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