To Melun

May 30, 2022

Glass half full

Attitude is everything. There was much to like in today’s ride to Melun, beside or about the Yonne for the first 2/3 of the way and then the Seine at the end. the day begins with scrambled eggs and a pastry in our excellent apartment in Sens. Weather is fantastic again, a bit warmer and less windy than yesterday. Hard to improve on, really. Thirty miles of lovely, peaceful cycling on paved cycle paths and quiet lanes beside the canal; a few small hills and small villages; cycling through the vast woods below Fontainbleu; and the excitement of reaching the Seine and realizing we’re just a short way upriver from Paris.

At the end of the day we check in to our home for the night, a truly remarkable place. We’re staying in a large, beautifully appointed flat in a meticulously maintained mansion with a large garden in the interior court yard. Fine art graces the walls, it’s another night that feels like we’re living in a museum. Even the WiFi is excellent. I would love to know something of the history of this place and of the proprietress, a quiet, petite middle-aged woman who appears to live here alone. Temperamentally and by appearance she reminds me of the lead character in an Anita Brookner novel.

We’re staying in the heart of Melun, a short walk from a brasserie Rachael has reserved a table for us at. We’re there at seven when it opens and enjoy a simple but very good meal - a shared chèvre salad, dorade for Rachael, and lamb with mashed potatoes for myself. A memorable day with many fine moments.

The countryside is really flattening out here. We’re cycling through a grain belt.

For a few miles we climbed through the low hills west of the river before dropping back to it near its confluence with the Yonne.

If you find the right roads this is spectacular cycling country.

Image not found :( — The Seine! After 11 weeks, we’re on the doorstep of Paris.

Cycling beside the Seine north of Fontainebleau we pass one striking mansion after another.

Video sound track: Just in Time, by Jerry Mulligan

Our home for the night in Melun is a remarkable place. We have an entire suite to ourselves - bedroom, lounge, kitchen, one and a half baths. Very stylish and artistic another night when it feels like we’re sleeping in a museum.

And there’s a Nespresso! With two pods, so we can enjoy coffee after dinner later this evening.

Glass half empty

However it was a 50 mile ride, not thirty. beaten up by the proverbial twenty miles of bad road, we were focused more on the other aspects of the ride by the time we finally dragged our weary asses into Melun after six PM, barely in time for our dinner reservation.

We anticipated a long but easy ride today, more or less like the canal-side cruiser/snoozers of the last few days. Our lodging in Melun lists six PM as the check in time, so thinking that we’ll arrive by three or so we fire off a request after breakfast but disappointingly are informed that an earlier arrival than five is impossible. We leave Sens around 10:30, expecting to take our time and look around Melun when we arrive. Taking our bikes down that corkscrew staircase is much dicier than carrying them up. We haul each of them together one at a time, and agree that as nice as the apartment is we probably wouldn’t stay here again because of this.

The day goes nothing like we expect though. After several miles of familiar, pleasant canal side cycling the pavement abruptly ends and we find ourselves on the rough, unpaved Chemin de Halage (canal towpath) for too many miles, bumping along as it gradually deteriorates and becomes more difficult to bike on. Walking our bikes through one narrow stretch I stumble and nearly fall over backwards onto the slope down to the canal but somehow miraculously catch myself. The effort does no favors to my knees though, which will be in need of some ibuprofen therapy by the end of the day.

We test out a few exits from the towpath when we come to them, but they lead us to shoulderless, very busy D606 that frightens us enough that we return to the ardors of the towpath. Finally we come to Pont-sur-Yonne, cross the river on the D606, and are elated when we find a cyclepath shortly after leaving that town.

Finally a welcome sight: Pont-Sur-Yonne, and the bridge across the river.

It doesn’t take long though before we’re both thoroughly sick of this bike path, which by its end we both agree was worse than riding the towpath. It’s quite pretty cycling along beneath its long, unbroken column of trees until you zoom in and see that each of them has broken up the pavement with its roots. Whump! Whump! Whump! It get old quickly.

Note about video: The gopro 10 I’m using is very good at smoothing rough road. Unfortunately, we didn’t have that capability with the actual ride!

Video sound track: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly by Ennio Morricone

Later we’re back on the main road again duking it out with the traffic on a shoulderless road for a few miles. Then some nice miles nearing Fontainebleau before we drop to the Seine and bike beneath some stunning mansions. It’s too late in the day to take time to enjoy them though - we only managed about fifteen miles on our first three hours on the road - and we’re starting to wonder if we’ll make it in time for our dinner reservation. Then too, enjoyment is marred by a series of fifteen or twenty fiendish speed bumps that have a cut through the middle that you can bike through safely if you’re very careful. Each slit is narrow, with straight-cut walls about four inches deep that would make it easy to catch your wheel against one and fall, which I nearly do.

And then, the pavement ends again and we’re biking a gravel path beside canal boats for awhile, until that too ends with a private drive. So we backtrack to the last public road we passed and leave the canal, pushing our bikes up a steep cobblestone road for about a quarter mile before we finally come to the plateau and drop into the woods surrounding Fontainbleu.

So we finally drag our way into town and find our address for the night - an unpromising doorway in a large featureless wall. No one answers when we ring the bell or when we first phone. But the the lady of the house calls back, and after some frustrating mixed language conversation she realizes we’re here and agrees to come shortly.

We receive an awkward, somewhat uncomfortable greeting. She has an anxious demeanor and is uncertain about our bicycles and maybe even ourselves. There are issues figuring out just where to park our bikes in her already full garage, and she keeps trying to take the bikes from our hands and park them herself, but I’m unwilling to let her. We finally agree on where to leave both of them, but I’m anxious about them both and half expect to find either of them lying on its side on the ground in the morning.

She takes us up a narrow corkscrew staircase to our suite, starts showing us around and then notes with horror and that we have our bike shoes on and are standing on her carpet. We quickly remove them and orientation continues until she reacts in horror again when she sees I’ve put one of my panniers on the bed rather than the floor.

Finally we have the place to ourselves, quickly shower, and head off to dinner. Before leaving we shut the door to our stairwell, and then realize we can’t open it again. Did she leave a key with us? We can’t recall. We try several things, including fiddling with light switches to see if any of them unlocks the door (as one does elsewhere here), but finally give up and call our host.

She doesn’t answer. Rachael and I have words - she wants to eat, I don’t want to return at 9 and find out we still can’t get into our room and can’t find the host. So she texts the host, who calls us, tries to explain, and then shows up in person. There’s a trick, as it happens. The door only feels like it’s locked - you just have to push forcefully to get it open.

So finally we’re off to dinner, feeling exhausted, starved and foolish.

Dinner is fine, much better than expected. I look forward to an espresso when we’re back in the room, but it’s not to be. My hopes are crushed along with the espresso pod, so I console myself at the end of a long day with a cup of microwaved instant.

Crushed. Does this ever happen to you? Some Nespresso machines are very temperamental.

Glass full

An attitude adjustment is called for. This should help.

Affligem has been brewing commercially since 1074, making it one of the oldest breweries in Belgium and one of the oldest businesses in the world.

Heart

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Ride stats today: 50 miles, 1,500’; for the tour: 2,224 miles, 109,300’

Today's ride: 50 miles (80 km)
Total: 2,252 miles (3,624 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	11
Comment on this entry	Comment	6

Steve Miller/GrampiesIt seems that some days really do require multiple attitude adjustments. Fortunately, those days are not too frequent and can be balanced with the glorious days where everything is great.
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2 years ago

Bruce LellmanIt sounds and looks as though it was an incredibly beautiful day even with the rough paths. I don't know what you are complaining about and keep your panniers off the beds!! But.....wouldn't you think that if you were renting out a room you would make sure the door/lock worked properly and easily! This is not the first time the owner had to drop everything and go to show the guest how to work it.
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2 years ago

Rich FrasierBut the skies in your photos…those skies…
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2 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Rich FrasierThey’ve really been spectacular all week, even on the more overcast days.
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2 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Bruce LellmanNot complaining, just providing some accurate reporting. We wouldn’t want folks thinking everything was always perfect with us - just mostly.
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2 years ago

Bruce LellmanTo Scott AndersonI know you aren't complaining, just wanted to give you a hard time because where you are is so incredibly beautiful.
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2 years ago