June 24, 2003
Isola - St. Laurent-du-Var
I was the first down to breakfast, this morning, over which I was in conversation with the German cyclist from the previous evening. I explained to him, that this was to be our last day of riding, and that we were intending to follow the valley road down to Nice for the plane home. A short while later, the proprietor came over to us to say that she had overheard our conversation and that a section of the valley road would be closed between 10am and 12 pm, in the direction of Nice. 'Ils nettoient la montagne,' she explained. They are cleaning the mountain. From which, I understood, that any loose or precariously overhanging rock was to be either blown up and/or cleared away, to protect the road-users below. She also pointed out the alternative route we could take, which would have involved a climb over the 1500m Col St. Martin to St. Martin-Vésubie and then a quieter [yellow] road into Nice. Looking at the map now, it looks an attractive detour. At the time though, both Chris and I were of the opinion that we'd done our work and that today was going to be Day Easy.
As a result we had a couple of hours to wait before our way would be clear. Although never enthusiastic early starters, we had previously been moderately efficient at getting ourselves on the road. This was an unaccustomed luxury. I read, looked at the map, ordered more coffee, wrote postcards to my mother and brother and talked bike stuff with the other cyclists as they left.
At St. Sauveur-sur Tinée, we stopped for lunch supplies. I changed my rear brake-blocks, while Chris shopped. We arrived at the road-block just before 12-00, having had to overtake a long line of stationary traffic. Two youngish German cyclists, from the Ruhr, were also at the head of the queue. We were soon off down the valley ahead of the cars. We had a headwind but not quite as fierce or as hot as the day before. The ride down the valley road was fine until the point where it joins the RN202 and the Tinée flows into the larger river Var. The traffic was now heavier. Worse, presumably in an effort to cut down on accidents, the road was divided by a series of small cones along the central white line, holding traffic in each direction, in its own lane. There was no shoulder. This meant that vehicles overtaking us were not able to give us a wide berth as they passed. If the traffic had consisted only of saloon cars, this would not have been so bad, but this section of road coincided with the route to and from a quarry. Large trucks heavily laden with stone were overtaking us leaving a margin of only a foot or 18 inches. This stretch of road was around 8 km in length. Chris was particularly concerned. There was an alternative route, which we could have taken, but of course, at that point, we had no idea what was to come. Eventually the valley of the Var broadened out as we got closer to the coast and although the road became busier there was space for all. We stopped for lunch and in order to keep out of the sun, we sat in the small shelter that served as a waiting room for one of the tiny stations on the narrow-gauge railway, which runs between Nice and Digne. Several kilometres further on, to avoid even heavier traffic, we crossed the river by means of le Pont de Manda and took a quieter route towards Nice airport. I spotted a hotel on the main street of St. Laurent du Var and stopped to wait for Chris. It was about 2pm. By my estimation we were about 10 minutes ride from the airport. We decided to stay. The room was long and narrow and not in its first flush. We opened the shutters to find we had a superb view of the local tattoo parlour.
I drank some beer in the bar downstairs and then walked around in search of transport information. We planned to leave the bikes behind and have a night out in Nice. I knew the Marseilles-Nice railway line couldn't be too far away. I found a town map at a bus stop, and got directions to the station from that. It was quite a hike down there and we contrived to keep to the shady side of the street, it was still hot of course. The train journey took about ten minutes. We set off, then, towards the Promenade des Anglais and the beach. I had promised myself a swim a long way back.
I swam, splashed about and floated for about 20 minutes. Chris, unequipped for the sea, minded my stuff. I took a cold water beach shower and dried off as we walked in the direction of the old port. As we were leaving the beach, I noticed an enormous storm drain outlet, built into the sea wall, the opening protected by a huge iron grille. I assumed that this system of storm drains must have been put in place to protect the city against rapid snow-melt and flash floods caused by mountain storms. I imagine it would be a spectacular site in full flow.
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We walked on to the old town, sat at a pavement table outside a bar and ordered two Pastis, by way of celebrating our arrival in the true South and as an apéritif, for dinner, which was to come next. The old town was busy, both with tourists and locals.
We ate dinner, loup de mer, [sea-bass], in a lively square, all the while inwardly congratulating ourselves on having finished the trip on time. Afterwards, we wandered around a little before stopping at a small, friendly bar for German beer. It was getting late and we had a train to catch and I asked for directions to the railway station. We had a city street plan from the TI office, but I still managed to take a wrong turning, thereby, when we sorted out our position, putting us under time pressure for our last but one train back to St. Laurent-du-Var. The last left around 2.00am. We race-walked back to the station and missed our train by a minute. Or, so we thought, I asked the night security guards at the entrance to the platforms if our train had left. It had, they said. I looked at the departure indicator in the concourse and took note of the platform number. I looked across the station and saw a train standing at that platform. We ran down and up the steps and took our seats on the train. We waited another 10 minutes before it pulled out of the station. There was still that uphill walk back to the hotel in the town centre. We finally got to bed about 1.00am.
Today's ride: 70 km (43 miles)
Total: 1,380 km (857 miles)
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