October 7, 2023
To Bayonne: Patientez
Our ride up the Canal du Midi has been a gentle ramp back up to touring with a load. We're both ready for our next hop from la tierra back to el mar. We'll have some hills to climb along the Atlantic as we ride through the country over the next week. Barry shrugs at the hills, he's felt just fine all along.
This morning I'm getting a steady rhythm of messages from SNCF that our first train to Toulouse is 5 minutes late, then 10, then 15, 20 and ultimately 35 minutes late due to "law enforcement." We are definitely not going to make our 11:38 connection to Bayonne, but there's another one a couple hours later that I hope we can catch.
While walking the bike out to the street I notice that my rack is swaying. There's another screw missing, this time at a heavy load point where the two arms of the rack attach to the frame. It seems that the bike is now conspiring with the luggage to mess with our plans. Fortunately Barry has a one more spare from the nice guy at the shop back in Montpellier. The threads are off at the end so it's fiddly but he manages to install it.
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We mount up but don't get far because Barry's rear brake has just broken. Yesterday he replaced the pads, and the theory is that old brake had some metal fatigue that the grippy new pads have pushed over the edge. Merde.
The map shows there are lots of bike shops in Toulouse. Since we won't make the scheduled connection there, Barry should have time for a quick run to look for a brake before the next train at 1:30. Might as well get going on the first leg. We're close to the Carcassonne train station so he shouldn't need to employ the Fred Flintstone brakes.
At the Carcassonne station while we wait for our delayed train, I stand in line for 40 minutes hoping to get the tickets for the second leg to Bayonne changed to the next departure at 1:30. There are three ticket windows, only one open, and every customer seems to take at least 5 minutes. The agent stares mutely at her screen for long stretches. In my head I picture the credit card machines that say "Patientez" while your transaction grinds through. Wait patiently.
When my turn comes up the agent says I'll have to change the tickets in Toulouse. That's ok because it's almost time to bolt for our train and I can't patientez any longer. Barry has already moved our bikes and gear up and down the stairs to the platform so we're ready when the train pulls up.
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In Toulouse, Barry leaves me at the ticket office with all the panniers and rides off to find a bike shop. There's no place close to lock up my bike so I thread the cable lock through the wheels and panniers to discourage any opportunists and leave it in sight of the security guard, then join the queue. Patientez.
The ticket agent offers to put us on a train to Bordeaux where we'll have to double back to Bayonne, arriving at 10:30pm. Besides the exhaustion factor, there is no attendant at our lodging in Bayonne after 6 pm and extra hurdles for after hours arrival. I ask about the 1:30 direct to Bayonne and he frowns, no space.
Suspecting the bikes could be an issue, I tell him we have velos pliants - folding bikes, and we can bag them if that helps. It does, and there are two spaces left on the 1:30. The folders are our salvation! We'll get to Bayonne at 5:30 so there should be just enough time to reach the hotel before 6.
Barry rolls up as I'm walking out with our new tickets. He has a replacement for his brake, a used one that the owner of a nearby shop gave him, no charge. It looks to be in good shape.
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In Bayonne Barry needs more time to get his bike rolling so we waive the "stick together" pledge for the second time today so I can make the 6:00 check-in time while he finishes up.
At 5:59 I pull up to the imposing metal gate to our lodging, an extended stay hotel. At the intercom when I press the button there's a long fast automated greeting in French, followed by music, then silence. I make some noise, text the contact, and five minutes later someone comes to let me in. They process a $200 security deposit before handing over the key. None of this - 6 pm arrival, security deposit - was mentioned when I booked the place; that message came much later. But we're both here now and we're in.
Many of the door keys in France have baffled me and this one is the most finicky yet. When we leave to find some dinner, neither one of us can figure out how to get the key back out of the door. We spin the lock this way and that, experimenting with raising and lowering the handle. We can't very well leave it there. The woman I reach at the after hours number tells me we will just have to keep trying, nobody is available to help. Barry finally solves it - the key has to be horizontal to remove it, instead of vertical like every other one we've had. This is easily my least favorite lodging of the trip. At least it's just for one night. Let's go eat.
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1 year ago
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Dinner at Brasserie Basa redeems the evening. My moules are wonderful and Barry enjoys his steak which is cooked "a point," a term our friend Terry suggested. Then it's back to the room for a brake job.
We are excited to get back on the bikes tomorrow and find more of the famed Basque cuisine in the days to come.
Today's ride: 1 mile (2 km)
Total: 263 miles (423 km)
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Yabba dabba doo!
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