Day 8: Charleville to Pouilly

July 29, 2015

The camping had the bonus feature of a baker that was to come by the front gate at 8:00 a.m. So we packed up the tent and retired to the common room to wait for this. Eight oçlock came and went and we began to suspect that the French had declared one of their random holidays. We were just about ready to take off, after 8:30, when indeed the baker did show up. We bought some pains aux raisins, brioches, and suchlike, and ate some of these together with left over sliced bread and Vache Qui Rit (Laughing Cow) soft cheese. Even I am starting to think we need some protein in that mix. Oh well, we will be in Germany soon enough.

We were able to get back on the Voie Verte pretty directly from the camping. The Voie Verte is under development and ultimately will extend all the way to Verdun. For now, the official end is Charleville, but in truth it actually goes further. We had read the Hillis' account of being on and off road on their way up the Meuse, to Stenay, and were pretty anxious about it. In fact, we did a little better, but maybe not much. We were able to find the unsigned, often freshly completed, Voie Verte for 38 km beyond Charleville, before it unceremoniously petered out.

We were able to findthe Voie Verte for 38 extra kms, but it needed a little scouting and thinking.

Not only was the new route not helpfully signed, but it had several unhelpful signs. The first was a "Route Barree" in front of a (well, ok) incomplete bridge. For this we applied our usual approach, which is to not believe it until it hits us forcefully in the face. There were a few other people around, and we had a discussion about what might be coming. It was agreed the route would continue at least until the next village, which was Donchery.

So I led the bikes across the narrow intact portion of the little bridge, and on we went. The path continued in fine shape, until we came to a barrier that cited the Voie Verte extension project, declared this a worksite, and banned entry. We went around that, and a couple more, enjoying several more kilometers of great surface. Then finally the path turned away from the river and became a little road, and the little road became a bigger road. We were at that time about 10 kilometers from Mouzon.

This was not a real problem, just a test

Here we are ready to go, on the other side

Here we are setting off again on a perfect surface

The bigger road was the D964. D roads in general are the quieter sort. But there is a hierarchy of D roads. On standard maps, the darker the colour of a D road, the busier. D964 is dark orange. We found that when cars and trucks approached us from the rear it was sort of ok, because they would go around us, usually straddling the centre white line. But when there was also opposing traffic, the overall narrowness of the road became an issue. That would be our cue to hit the dirt. Unfortunately , D964 also has a problem with its dirt. There is a small but significant drop off to the shoulder, and the shoulder is rough gravel. So there is a risk of falling when trying to leave the roadway in a hurry.

We resolved to stop in the camping at Mouzon, regroup - rethink, and worry about it tomorrow. Besides, the Hillis' had written that there was no camping at the next major town, Stenay.

The blitzkrieg. You can probably read the poster if you zoom in

A photo of a pontoon bridge for crossing the Meuse

One of three types of warning signs about our shoulder/refuge area

Mouzon is graced by a 13th century Abbey, complete with abbey gardens, a favourite of Dodie. There is also a museum of felting. It looked like a good place to stay, but the fellow in the tourist information told us that the provision of tent camping had been abandoned. So a discussion ensued about where to go. The fellow was also a cyclist, and himself avoids D964. so Dodie and him plotted out a mostly alternative route to Pouilly, the next town anywhere with camping.

The abbey in Mouzon. we did not get the chance to stoll its gardens

Inside the abbey - normal mpressive arches

Getting to Pouilly did involve a stint back on D964, but after 3-4 km we turned off and descended, way down on a little road, several kms, all the way to the Meuse, and the little village of Pouilly.

The Meuse - clearly with no paths on either side

Once in "town", we asked a group of miscellaneous people walking by about the camping. At first they denied that there was such a thing. Then one of them allowed there might be something, and told us to ring the bell of a house across the street. This seemed a bit strange, but we rang. Nothing. The lady called to us to knock, because the ringer does not work. Knock, knock. Nothing. Finally, and old lady did answer the door. We told our story about looking for camping, and at first she looked a little dubious, while still allowing that there was camping. She then conceded that she was the camping, though it seemed strange to me that this row house could be a campground. Maybe we were talking about her back yard?

Leaving aside the issue of where our tent would go, we moved on to payment. Should we pay her now, we asked. Payment, payment? It seemed a foreign concept. She asked why would she want payment for one night`s camping? Ok, we dropped the subject, and went back to where. At this stage she called out her husband, who did not look much sturdier than she. She explained what we were about, and instructed him to lead us to the camping. She seemed puzzled that we would not know where it was, but we explained that we had just blown into town from the north and had seen nothing. The husband went to find his car keys.

Meanwhile the lady, eyeing our bikes and costumes, asked me if we were Belgian. I had the idea that Belgium was about the furthest away, most foreign place that she normally thought people could come from, and would also explain our weird accents. When I told her that we were Canadians, she was really impressed. Who would imagine that a Canadian would land in little Pouilly, she said.

Shortly we followed the husband down to the river, grateful that it was downhill, so we did not have to appear to be as slow as we are. We were shown a spot by the river and a washroom building. The man made sure we understood that if we needed anything at all we were to come back up to the house.

So here we sit, in the equivalent of a wild camp by the river, with the exception that there is water and flush toilets. We have set up our tent and REI Flexlite chairs, and are very comfortable. There is no cell signal, so it will be tomorrow before this is posted. Otherwise - great!

The lady who thought we were Belgians, or other forms of Martians

If you need anything at all, come back up to the house!

Today's ride: 59 km (37 miles)
Total: 359 km (223 miles)

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