Weather: mix of sun, cloud and rain

We didn't know what to expect for breakfast this morning—maybe yesterday's “brunch” was a one-off and today it would be back to the usual continental fare. Not a chance. We were served individual cast iron casseroles containing gnocchi with freshly-made tomato sauce. Luc's dad explained that they (the parents) lived in the country outside of Aix, and the tomatoes and herbs for the sauce had come from their garden. Dessert was an enormous slice of rich chocolate cake. All this at 8:30 in the morning! Luc's charming parents were two of the few French people we'd met who don't speak any English, and they were very patient with our rudimentary French. We never did meet Luc, but his parents were terrific hosts.

We loaded up our bikes and rode the short distance to the bus terminal where Eva stood in line again to purchase shuttle tickets. The buses leave every 15 minutes, and we had allowed plenty of time to reach the TGV station for our train to Paris. While waiting outside to board the bus, Al folded the bikes into their bags, and we packed our panniers into the duffels. The shuttle travelled the main highway, and we were glad we weren't cycling along this busy road.

At the TGV station everything was well organized. There were plenty of luggage carts and elevators to the platforms, as well as guides posted to show where to wait for each car in the train, so it was easy to find our car when the train pulled in. Then we were whisked to Paris in less than three hours with only one stop in Avignon. It was interesting to watch the countryside changing from vineyards and orchards in the south to rolling green dairy pastures further north. (All the way along, Al was looking out the window for potential future cycle routes, and in fact, two years later we did cycle sections of the lower Rhone valley north of Orange.) In a few places we passed speeding cars on the motorway like they were standing still. This journey again reminded us of how unfortunate it is that such excellent passenger train service is not available in North America.

In Paris we disembarked at the Gare de Lyon, across the Seine from the Gare Austerlitz, where we had started our tour four weeks ago. Rain was pouring down when the train pulled into the station, but by the time we had unfolded the bikes and loaded them up, the rain had stopped and brilliant sunshine lit up the wet trees and puddles. We pedalled the short distance across the river to Madame Chatignoux's chambre d'hote. She was delighted to see us again and invited us to tea in her capacious apartment downstairs, where she showed us photos of her cycling trips to Denmark and Hungary ten years ago. In the evening we returned to our favourite nearby brasserie where we enjoyed a good dinner of duck with vegetables.