August 3, 2015
Changing Course: Arles to Carcassonne.
I am up at half seven, have breakfast out on the terrace with Heidi, go inside to use the internet, but am drawn back to the table when Isha come to breakfast and sits down. She has a pass for the photographic exhibition being held in many venues at the moment in Arles, but is unsure which to visit this morning before catching a noon train north to her mother's free-time house in the Ardeche, where she'll spend the rest of her holidays.
After chatting more, she speaks of hiring a bike when in the Ardeche, it is time to go. We embrace and I wish her well on her holiday and she on my continued journey.
It is gone ten when I'm ready to set off, but I've to call in to Intersport. I need an innertube and a few other bits, like the end-bit that slides onto the gear cable outer-casing. And a new mini-pump so I'm not left by the roadside trying to inflate a tyre with a knackered pump.
Outside the shop I fit the cable bit and the pump bottle-cage storage bracket, before calling at the Intermarche. I still have the couscous bought yesterday and not used because of the barbecue, so buy only water and drinks; then head out of town at quarter to twelve, across the river Rhone upon a cycleway constructed on the side of the bridge. On the west side of the river I pick up D570, a red road on the map, though with a good shoulder for many kilometres until it is reduced to a white line with a foot wide stripe on the inside shortly after the left turnoff D36.
The traffic is constant, mainly holidaymakers and the road continues to the Mediterranean at Saint Marie de la Mer, but my road turns off sharp left a dozen kilometres beforehand, upon D38c toward Aigue Mortes. At a roundabout on the way into town I pass the entry to the "Via Rhona", but remembering a few more things needed from the supermarket, continue on to an Intermarche on the edge of town, shop and return back and take the cycle road. Then shortly ride off into a triangle plot of pine forest between the cycle-road and the road to lunch sat against my front pannier with the bike propped against a tree.
While there the cicadas make a loud singing racket. According to Heidi they only start singing when the temperature reaches thirty-five degrees. The heat also fills the air with the fragrances of pine resin.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Tuesday
Riding into Montepellier was a mistake. I'd planned on skirting to the east of the city but got lost. I thought though where I'd camped by a canal, that it couldn't be much more to the city-centre. But it is another ten kilometres upon the canal towpath cycle-route. It is a grey morning with thunder clouds ready to deposit heavy rain any moment and does, just as the cycle-sign points "Centre Ville" up from the canal to a street. I push the bike undercover in the recess of a modern bank building until the worse of the rain is over. Then it is another kilometre confused riding until I turnoff into a narrow street into the old town and climb steeply up to a small square full of cafes and with two boulangeries. At one I buy a pan-au-raisin and a croissant before sitting down to coffee next door. The French café cream is as usual good, but expensive at three euros. I have a second as I write my diary and the bill is six euros, bringing the total for breakfast to eight. Not exactly cheap.
The ride out of the city is a constant exercise of going the wrong way, looking at the map and riding back. Eventually finding myself on a ring road and getting to the right turnoff, D613 toward Bezier. The afternoon is as mundane as the morning, busy roads all the way. But approaching evening I reach the Canal du Midi towpath cycle route and camp upon the canal bank.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Wednesday
With humidity not being the problem it was, I'm falling into the habit of not moving of a morning until quite late; this morning it is half seven when I stir and first open the tent. Lots of runners and cyclists pass by on the towpath while breakfasting.
The canal path takes me most of the way into Bezier where I join a street with a stiff climb to the hilltop city-centre: a wide square where I see a Cassino city-supermarket to shop, and lots of cafes for that morning coffee.
The "Tout Direction" sign onward, takes me back down a steep hill and across a bridge. I follow signs for Narbonne, but D11 toward Carcassonne splits off this route which I follow, having had enough of the busy mediteranian (I wish I could spell) roads south to Spain, I've decided to head inland and plot a route further southwest to Spain.
Somewhere upon the plethora of roundabouts which follow, I take the wrong turn and soon find I'm on D612, but in passing through the next village take a left upon D16. On the street corner where I turn, there's an old timeworn N113 sign. Having seen a lot of these old signs and red route national marker stones, also lot of new "D" roads with four figure numbers; seems most roads which where formally "Route Nationals" or "N" roads have been renumbered "D" for Department.
D16 takes me back to D11 by the Canal du Midi in the small village Capestang, whereupon I take the quieter D37 following the north bank of the canal for a kilometre before swinging off into pine forested hills with neat rows of vines in the valleys.
I remain on near traffic free roads passing through three quaint villages, the last Minervois where I lunch in a tree shaded park. Shortly after I re-join the main road to Carcassonne, now D5 for the remainder of the afternoon into the city.
Thursday
I have checked in for two nights in the same Auberge de Jeanesses in the medievel citadel on the hilltop where I stayed the same time last year. There is one other cyclist here, Nicola from England, cycling from Barcelona to Lyon via Limoges. I tell her of my next plan to cycle southwest towards the Pyrennees. She asks me do I know which way I'm going yet and I answer "no". "You know there's a lot of big hills" she says cautionary. I think she doesn't quite realise that to cycle from where we are now to Limoges, means crossing France's third mountain area, the Massif Central. But she'll find out soon enough it isn't all flat north of the Pyrennees.
After updating the journal in the morning, I walk into the centre. Carrefour Metro charge me sixteen euros for what grocery needs I buy for the day. But, on a positive note, I find the rail station wherein is a Presse where I find and buy a Michelin Midi Pyrennee regional map, so I can plan my route onward more closely, finding the "Col du Tourmalet" which, looks like one of the big hills Nicola had in mind.
Today's ride: 284 km (176 miles)
Total: 8,053 km (5,001 miles)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 0 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |