August 28, 2005
Matignon - Pontorson
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I awoke early and pulled back the curtains to have a look at the day. Rolls of mist had gathered in the fields beyond the town. A good sign I thought. Sure enough, after breakfast the sun was with us, but the temperature was holding itself in check. After picking up supplies from the Spar supermarket and the bakers, we were back on D786. The traffic on the road was light. After 5 km or so I was overtaken by a peloton of club cyclists going up a slight hill. At the top of the rise, after a roundabout, the road dropped gently down the other side. I attached myself to the back of the pack and stayed there for a kilometre. The group stayed intact, taking up the full width of the lane, no matter what the traffic. Passing motorists showed no sign of complaint. Much as I enjoyed this morsel of assisted pace, I had to stop to wait for Barbara, 25mph might be a bit much for her, I thought. We decided to stick to the main road as far as St. Malo, by-passing Dinant, crossing the hydro-electric dam at the estuary of the river Rance. We were in now in the département of Ile-et-Vilaine, still in Britanny, but evidently less Breton. From the dam there was a sharp climb away from the river, before we turned north to descend into the town. We rode through the centre and turned east at the headland. That chilly on-shore breeze was back. We climbed gradually inland through the northern suburbs and stopped at an attractively busy café for our usual refreshment, sitting in the sunshine but behind glass.
From here it, had been my intention to follow D155 cutting across the base of the peninsular, the tip of which is Pointe du Grouin, to rejoin the coast near St-Méloir-des-Ondes. Unfortunately, after a kilometre or so and a roundabout or two we were badly lost. Solar navigation took over, not too successfully, for a while. We rode through unknown and sparse suburbs, through industrial estates, over the main railway line until, eventually, we were able to pinpoint our location way to the south-east of St. Malo. We now made our way back towards the coast, by means of a main highway and a lesser yellow road until we found a route blanche to take us back to the seaside at St. Bénoit-des-Ondes.
It was time to eat. Across the coast road was a picnic site bounded by low hedges planted as shelter against the nagging breeze. The tide was out and the sea was a long way off. Families were walking their dogs on the foreshore. Back west, across the bay was a view of Cancale. I bought bottled water from a convenience store on the shore side of the road and we ate lunch.
The next stretch was dead flat, hugging the coast. Local shellfish was readily available. The wind, blowing across us, spoilt the rare enjoyment of level ground, until the road turned inland to St. Brolade, where we stopped for coffee. We were soon joined by a group of motorcyclists on a Sunday ride, who, after re-arranging the café's outside tables and chairs, departed without ordering drinks. I looked in the Logis de France guide, about 10km along the D 797 was Pontorson with a choice of three hotels. We decided however to take the more landward, longer scenic route. Minutes later, two very blonde girls from Finland, turned up on rented bikes on a circular tour from Rennes. They also planned to spend the night at Pontorson..
We left and after turning right 200m down the road, re-acquainted ourselves with the struggle against gravity. While still breathing hard we passed a large chateau, with tidy grounds, now converted into a monastery. Our route was quiet and pleasantly rural, but tricky to follow, though we did have a downhill into Pontorson. As we entered the town the two Finnish girls were arriving ahead of us from our left. We were now, technically in Normandy, [department of Manche, 50] but I got the impression that the locals were undecided on that one.
The first hotel, from the guide, was full, we found the second, L'Hotel de France et Vauban, near the railway station. Out front behind the boundary wall was an attractive garden where a largish group of people were saying their goodbyes. On enquiring at the bar I was told to wait a minute and a woman from the group outside detached herself from her family Sunday, took my details and checked us in. We had to park the bikes against sheets of plasterboard [drywall], among tubs of tile cement and bags of plaster, in what I assumed would, one day, be the new hotel restaurant. Our bedroom was new, functional, but rather grim in aspect, both internal and external. There was no dinner to be had here, so after the usual showers, we went out to pick a restaurant.
It occurred to me, while we walked down to the main street, that this town, situated only a few kilometres inland from Mont St. Michel, would do good business from the hordes of tourists visiting the island. That might explain the extensive alterations to our hotel. We stopped to look at the menu outside our first choice of hotel. I translated for Barbara, with comments [pretentious and expensive] and as we walked away, another younger English couple, who had been listening to my critique, followed us into the restaurant of what should have been the first hotel in town l'Hotel de la Brette. Situated at the junction where we'd seen the two Finnish girls arriving, we'd missed it on the way in.
Anyway, the restaurant looked good, so in we went, followed by the still silent couple who were shadowing us. Barbara had mussels with cream for starters, pré-salé *[salt-marsh] lamb chops, followed by apple tart. I chose oysters, ham in cider sauce and also apple tart. We fell into conversation with a friendly couple from Dieppe, on the next table, who kindly offered us a place to stay when we finally arrived there, an invitation we were, unfortunately, unable to take up.
I took Barbara back to the hotel, then went out again to a bar on the other side of the tracks and while drinking a couple of beers watched the back end of a football match involving Olympique Lyonnais, France's top team at present. And so to bed.
*In France, sheep fed on salt-marsh pasture are highly regarded for their flavour.
Today's ride: 90 km (56 miles)
Total: 372 km (231 miles)
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