The Loire Valley: Prepetual Blue Sky And Warmer Continental Climate.

March 7, 2015

Thursday

The moonlight breaking in beams of light through the trees makes it a difficult night getting to sleep. And when I do sleep it's sleep disturbed by ghoulish calls in the woods and I've the sensation of some animal biting at my foot. Waking with dawn I'm in time to see the orange line of the sun breaking along the crest of the sloping wheat field the other side of the road. The tent is bone dry and there's no hint of frost. The sun now well up is warming. But later the farm track up to the road is frozen, greatly easing the ride, especially the boggy area chewed up by tractor wheels where I'd to push the bike round on the way in yesterday evening, I can ride straight across. And on the road I can see white frost in places like the shaded woodland edge of fields

Not out of the woods yet, but the track continues along the boggy bottom of a sloping field then uphill to the road.

It really feels like Spring this morning. There's the tweeter of birdsong and I see a yellow breasted finch flutter in and out over the road from the rapeseed. The farmland is open to the road and field divisions are groves of woodland. Further on it becomes boundless without even woodland, just a treeless plain with an odd ripple of undulation and a distant water tower or church spire. There are a few freshly ploughed squares, but most is autumn drilled up and growing vivid green.

My kind of road and day; just spin away without a care and daydream.

A tree avenue on the way out of above village.

Rivers like the Loire are a likely location for a power station with the necessary abundance of cooling water.

I am in Beaucery on the Loire for lunch. The woman in the boulangere as usual wishes me a jovial "bonjour et bonjourney" as I turn to leave, having bought a anchovy pizza slice and a big vanilla slice. It isn't such a hard language really. I find myself now making an effort. I can understand a bit. I recognize when I'm asked in a shop, will there be anything else, and spoken numbers, the amount when paying.

I Push the bike uphill into a large square and find a bench by a flowerbed to sit and eat my purchase. Just as I finish two rough looking youths bring anarchy. The first with black track-top with hood up so that only his grim expression-face peeks out, strides into the square shouting angrily; shortly followed by a second dressed similarly, hood-track-top, hood up and track-bottoms hanging off. The first tampers with the handlebar control of a scooter. It looks like he's trying to get it going. Alarm bells go and I swiftly gather my things and sneak away before I'm seen and become the centre of their attention.

The town centre is on a hillock by the river and I descend down and turn along the embankment. Ahead on the left across the Loire's slow but odious curran slipping by I see a long stone bridge with a score of arches. I turn onto and ride over the bridge: a narrow lane width between stone parapets.

The countryside onward is again flat, but the road is enclosed either side by low sapling woodland with marshy undergrowth and ponds in places.

I didn't have anything to drink at lunch and I've drank all my water, so it's a long thirsty ride to the next town, La Ferte Saint Aubin, with chateau and gardens on the way in, typical French main street and hypermarket on the way out, wherein I stock up on water and beverages. A couple of kilometres out of town there's a rest-place in a clearing by a lake where I stop and take a seat at a picnic table. I crack open a beer. It is such a pleasure to sip in the late afternoon sunshine. It is warm and the air still. The trees cast shadows and the gaggle and laughter of kids on the slides nearby is pleasing.

The days are getting noticeably warmer as I cycle south. Tuesday was only seven degrees; Wednesday eight; and now while riding through another town, the pharmacy green cross sign shows +13 before flicking to 17.58.

Those where the days when you went to The Pictures.

Friday

This morning is a cold one. The flysheet frozen white and I return to the warmth of the sleeping-bag to breakfast on porridge and tea, hoping the sun will soon warm things up. Good thing is the poles slide with ease from the tent when it comes to packing, minimising finger contact with cold metal.

I am on the road at nine, riding steadily twenty-six kilometres to arrive in the town of Neully Sur Neve with it's pretty central street of half-timbered houses. Here I find all I need: a boulangere and two cafes opposite on the sunny side of the street. And when I'm sat outside one of the later enjoying second breakfast, writing my notes and looking at the map, I spot a small Leader Price supermarket opposite, a couple of doors along from the boulangere. The pavement is wide and locals saunter by, meet and stop in groups of two and three chatting. Elderly men pass with baguettes under arm. And there are dogs on leads, little pooches and Jack Russells. Cars move slowly along between parked cars either side and an old twenty-year-old Peugeot, it's driver shouts and thumps the steering when a Mercedes in front pauses. The Mercedes moves again but a little further halts to consider. And the Peugeot behind blares it's horn in frustration. Enough is enough.

I buy just enough provisions for lunch, planning on remaining light and buying dinner in passing later in the day.

It is a long ride to Sancere as the countryside becomes rolling hills with a fair amount of climbing: the final bit a steady climb up upon a raised plateau with open cropland either side, finally to a hilltop picnic rest-place with a view over the Loire valley and Sancere crowning a round hilltop opposite. The sky is cloudless and air still. And it's such a marvellous place to arrive at to lunch, albeit gone three o'clock.

D923 with vista north toward Belleville Sur Loire nuclear power station.

Three-thirty/ four, having eaten lunch and looking across to Sancere.

I descend and climb to the old town. I was for stopping and having a drink in the same terrace café where I did when passing through Sancere in 2011, but preferred not to spend three or four euros. I stop at the viewpoint a moment and look across at a slow meandering bend in the river. There are only a handful of day trippers about and the town streets are tranquil.

I descend again. Down a switch-back descend until I reach the road south along the Loire canal. I cross the Loire again at Pouilly, a place I hoped to be passing a supermarket, but don't see any. I continue on D38 away from the Loire and pass through a handful of villages coming up on dusk; small places without a supermarket, so I've to make do with pasta with broccoli for dinner.

A nicely refurbish house with French charm and character.

Leaving a village after dusk for a forest campsite.

Saturday

There's a Carrefour hypermarket by the roundabout on the way into Premery, the first town I reach this morning. Here I make sure to stock up as tomorrow is Sunday. The Carrefours, SuperUs sell everything including petrol. It is a wonder anyone else can survive, but they do, as I pass the more traditional petrol station in town with car repair garage. Riding around town there's a fruit and veg street market, but no cafes as I'm looking forward to morning coffee. Not until I ride along the street onward do I come to a bar: a very tradition place with Buckler and Kronenberg beer. And although an hour before noon, the man at the bar is on his second glass. And round a table by the wall four elderly men are on spirits. There isn't much elbow room in this café and there are only two other tables one of which children are playing at and the other is barely spare as it contains Kronenberg man's baguage, though when I sit down, he swiftly reaches round, says "pardon!" and takes it away. I drink my coffee quickly and leave.

The itinerary ahead is more hilly and completely pastural, cattle and sheep farming. I meet the first other traveller, a walker with small rucksack and metal walking poles. A forty-something Dutchman doing the camino de Santiago. And the high-point of the day is reaching the top of a steep climb with a nice picnic tabled rest-place.

Learning to fly: I can't get it to turn.

I don't understand the cockpit trust-levers and dials

Today's ride: 292 km (181 miles)
Total: 973 km (604 miles)

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