Day 52:Clarafond to Yenne

September 8, 2013

We packed up our soaking wet tent parts, grateful at least that it was not raining at that moment. Despite our position in a muddy field, we still managed a breakfast of black forest cake pudding, and white peach. Washed down with cold coffee, it was pretty ok.

We wobbled damply down the road, but soon came to a town, and amazingly for a Sunday in France, the bakery was open.So now we could add pain aux raisins and pains au chocolat to our breakfast. In France, bakeries are not cafes, but I asked the lady to make me some coffee in the apartment at the back. Seeing Dodie, she asked if that would be two, and Dodie wisely said yes. That way, I got almost a cup of coffee! Outside the bakery we fielded UQs from other customers. People were flooding in to snap up the breads.

But oh, there was an open French bakery down the road!

The next town was Seyssel, which is reasonably big. Here, lots of cafes and bakeries were open. We met some trekkers, heading back to Switzerland. A couple of years ago, they had biked around the world. A man also spoke to me, in English. I learned he was a Czech mathematician who had fled to Germany, and subsequently worked in the US. He invited us to share a coffee with him, but ever driven, we declined. So that way we missed knowing a Czech mathematician. I really wish we could get to know and later correspond with so many people we meet along the way. The number of interesting and talented people out in the world is almost unending.

It struck Dodie, only later, that the Swiss trekkers would have been good candidates to swap out our swiss francs with. Darn! However in not too long a fully loaded cyclist came along, and we flagged him down. It turned out to be Liam, from Ireland, heading east and ultimately to Africa. Not only did we swap currency, but we passed an enjoyable half hour comparing notes, including learning about Liam 's present and past journeys. "Comparing notes" means going over topics such as are normally found on the Crazyguy forums, but also current information like the condition of the route ahead, or what local foods are worth seeking out and trying.

We were just at the point of giving Liam a goodbye hug, when Harm came along, from the Geneva side. Harm had flown to Geneva from Amsterdam and was headed to Barcelona. Now we had a quorum for a real cyclist jamboree, and we all spent a further half hour chewing the fat. What fun! All we were missing for an all day event was the Czech mathematician and the Swiss trekkers!

Next up we arrived at Chanaz, where the book said a dedicated cycle way would begin. There was an abundance of Via Rhona signs, and we gleefully began to sail down a cycle way. This ended at a hydro project under construction, with severe signs about the way being blocked. This included one warning of guard dogs.

We had read of this blockade in the answer to one of our forum posts about the Via Rhona. We seemed to remember the person saying there was a way to wheedle past. Dodie did not want to challenge any guard dogs, but I gambled it was a bluff. still, I pulled my dog stick and began to look for a way through among some construction trailers. Unfortunately, one of the trailers contained a person, who insisted the way was 100% no go. We shouted at him for a while, enquiring what kind of morons block a national route and have no idea of any detour way.

So we joined another cyclist, a Swiss lady heading "south" (not very talkative) and we continued along the river, without being able to change sides. That meant skirting another darn mountain, in the traffic, rather than cruising a flat cycle way.

After all those lead in signs, gee thanks!

Maybe they were bluffing, maybe not, but they did have a dogged uncooperative employee on site.

Dodie and the Swiss lady head off into the unknown, except for sure the direction is up.

Our typical road. French D roads look like this, no shoulder but hopefully not too much traffic.

When eventually we arrived at Yenne we had resolved that we better find a room to stay in, to dry out, rather than camp again. The fact that it was raining helped our thinking.

Yenne is such a typical and interesting small French town. It has old to ancient stone buildings, two bakeries, and one hotel. That hotel became our home, and for tonight we live in the most quaint of places. The patron gave us a secure place for the bikes, and a place to dry the tent. This turned out to be a covered loft, where they also dry sheets from the hotel. Great!

Now we have gone for a walk in "our" town, and dined in the old but elegant hotel dining room. We even set the alarm for quite late. What a change from our wet cornfield of last night!