Day Thirty: Toulouse to Lourdes: Miracle Train

April 26, 2017

Our second room mate, Frederic, arrived last night, a little after Sebastian. Though it was pleasant to talk to them and learn a little about their lives, I did find it weird to have two large strangers in a small room with us. To better understand this, consider that we normally live alone in the country in a large empty house. Even here, we have just come off a canal in the boonies, into a large city. Toulouse is the fourth largest city in France, after Paris, Marseille and Lyon. Culture shock, though it means we have now hit three of the four.

With our 6 a.m. alarm, we kept the lights low and quietly ferried our stuff down to the common room that held our bikes. Last night we had stopped at a bakery on Rue de Taur, and found the baker had lived in Montreal. Made us a little homesick. He reminded us to return in the morning for fresh croissants, home made by him, he proudly said. So I set off, gps in hand, through the should be simple enough maze of streets. Got there fine, and the croissants were warm. But turning the reverse way, suddenly everything looked strange. Fortunately I had stuck an electronic pin in the hostel before leaving. So there could be no real question about finding the way back. Still, with the Android app (Osmand) that we are using, if you ask for guidance you are not shown accurately which way you are facing. Then if you walk the wrong way, the thing helpfully recalibrates the route, giving something new that you also can not follow.

I am reminded of the old song by thr Kingston Trio: "Did he ever return? No he never returned: And his fate is still unlearn'd: He may ride forever: 'neath the streets of Boston: He's the man who never returned."

This time I did return, and the croissants were even still fresh! We gobbledmghem up and were getting ready to leave, when I heard some strange intonations behind me: English? Yes, and with an American twang. And what were the English words? "Hi Grampies!"

Jonathan Hecht had just come from Portland to Amsterdam to here to begin a cycle tour. and he was staying nearby the hostel. Working wth clues in the blog (name of the hostel, hotel around the corner, early wake up time) he had successfully found us! What fun. Also, as it turned out we had time to chat, because today we are just getting on a train and not cycling.

Jonathan has already begun his blog, and you can see it here.

I was not enthused with this hostel, but one feature is downright criminal. To get in you need to enter a code into a keypad. Ok, fine. But to get out you need to reach through bars and also enter the code in the keypad. Holy fire hazard! Also in this case Jonathan had walked in with someone else, but few people were around. Had we left, he actually would have been trapped inside.

Successfully outside on the street, we three stood for a while. It felt good to be part of this small yellow clad huddle, the only one to be fully equipped by REI in 8000 km, no doubt.

The funky/cosy common room of the St-sernin hostel

Trying to bust out of the hostel. Need to enter the 4 digit code on the outside keypad

Our target was the Post Office (more mail backs!) while Jonathan would go to St-Sernin. So we parted ways. But after the post office we realized that we needed more small bills in terms of Euros. The ATMs have a habit of spewing out 50's, which are more or less unusable on the street. So I danced into a nearby bank and tried to change my 50's to 20's. Impossible. The bank (or, the bankers) have no cash. Only the machines deal with cash. But the teller helpfully suggested I try my own bank, HSBC, which had a branch, he said, a block down. (To be really accurate, the man was not a teller - I don't think they have tellers. And the HSBC suggestion was not his, but that of a manager in an upstairs office - my case had already gotten elevated to that level!)

when I left the bank, I found Dodie deep in conversation with another cyclist. It had always been his dream to do cycle touring, so he was getting some advice. Receiving a lot of good wishes, we moved on down the street and I went in to HSBC. Change cash? Desolee. However they helped me make their ATM give out a pile of 10's. Now we feel set for small town Spain.

Exiting to the street I found Dodie talking to another cyclist. Wow, Toulouse poeple must really be into it. Nope. It was Jonathan! He could not have tracked us, though I had sent him a message from the post office. Just coincidence. Not such a big town after all.

From HSBC we set off toward the train station. Why? Being so close, we feel we need to go to Lourdes. But we are behind schedule, too much so to pedal the 175 km. We passed by Place Jeanne d'Arc on the way (there is always one) and suddenly Dodie dove into the Jeanne d'Arc pharmacy. She was looking for a miracle cream for her knee. What a shocking heresy from someone on their way to Lourdes. She came out with more Diclofenac. Not a miracle, but somewhat effective, she has found.

This long story is being written in the train station. We are waiting for a train that can take our bikes.

After Lourdes, it looks like we will train to Bayonne, near the Atlantic coast, and then cycle to St Jean Pied de Port to begin the true Camino. For cycling from Bayonne, we bought a Michelin yellow regional map. These are great, but we will likely chop it up, just keeping the relevant bits. What a pity.

Dodie thinks Joan of Arc (or her pharmacy) can fix the knee.

Across the street from the train station is "Maison du Velo" a combination cafe and bike repair. My trigger shifter has been acting up. They managed to repair it. Also they took on my case right away (while we were waiting for the train). Really nice.

Dodie has begun to scrutinize the Michelin map to find a way from Bayonne to St. Jean

Sitting in the train station, I noticed Maison du Velo - a bike repair shop, across the street. We have been looking for a bike shop because my trigger shifter has been ailing - needing to be "pumped up" before it would catch and pull the cable to make the shift. Replacing it would be tricky, since it not only has to be eight speed but also Shimano, since the shifters need to be compatible with the derailleurs. When I stepped into Maison du Velo I realized that I had been there before - four years ago. Now checking the blog from then I see that we were looking for a tire for Dodie then, but could only understand Maison du Velo as a cafe with a lot of bicycles decorating it. This time I actually found some skilled mechanics, and they had a supply of trigger shifters!

I was a little confused in trying to remember about Maison du Velo. I thought maybe it had also been a hostel. But when I mused about this to the mechanic, he suggested maybe I had slept in a bike box. He also joked that in Lourdes the water could fix the bike. In the end, it was actually WD-40 that fixed the bike. A miracle.

he train ride to Lourdes was longer than we thought - over 3 hours - making us glad we had not set out to pedal it. At one point I sat beside a lady born in India but with Portugese affiliation through the former colony there at Goa. The lady had worked for and with Mother Theresa. I have been listening to the late Christopher Hitchins (God Is Not Great) on my iPod, and he reserves special bile for Mother Teresa. But the train lady described her as compassionate and not overly trying to convert people or build an organizational empire.

As our train worked its way toward Lourdes, the landscape changed from flat to definite foothills. And our very first impression of Lourdes was something like a Bavarian mountain town.

That changed dramatically as we got onto Boulevard (and also Rue) de la Grotte. What fun! Almost every other building is a hotel. I once read that there are more hotels here than in Paris. And the buildings that were not hotels were religious souvenir shops. We are looking forward to checking them out tomorrow. The photos below will give you some previews.

Meanwhile our very cheap hotel was very nice, and supper at its low priced restaurant was the same high quality as at expensive places we have tried.

Today the weather took a turn for the cold and rainy. We were shivering in all our clothes! I think the fact that our room had a hot bath, and that the supper was so good really helped ward off a chill. It's great that we were not cycling any distance.

Tomorrow we will hit the souvenir shops and grotto, get some healing water (see photo), and see if we can make a train to Bayonne. That is again a whole other world of the Basque culture, plus chocolate. We will have to check it out too before attempting to cycle to St Jean.

Lourdes looking rather Bavarian. That's the Sacre coeur church.

Another Baviarian view at Lourdes. Tht's the Chateau on a hill

A main street in Lourdes showing mainly traffic.

Ah, the true Coney Island aspect of Lourdes

A religious souvenir superstore - one of many.

At a souvenir shop, these containers labelled Lourdes water are actually empty. I guess we will see if there is a tap for loading up with the real stuff. Dodie is looking for a bike Lourdes water bottle, since her Bike Friday one is leaking.

A nun strolls the Coney Island section of town.

Bernadette's father's house - carefully preserved in a little corner.

Dodie pours the Lourdes water at supper. (Well, it's water at Lourdes anyway.)

Today's ride: 5 km (3 miles)
Total: 1,409 km (875 miles)

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