September 27, 2024
To Saint-Remy-de-Provence
As I mentioned to Suzanne in a comment last night, ‘good story’ days like yesterday’s are like Tolstoy’s unhappy families, each horrid in its own way. At the end of this tour that’s been so full of them, I think I’ll list them out and rank them from least horrid to absolute worst. I’m pretty sure yesterday’s is a strong contender for the top of the list, though several others quickly come to mind.
Well, unfortunately we’ve got another good story to share today - we don’t even get a day’s respite. We can’t call it horrid because it all worked out and the day ended up spectacularly well, but it certainly qualified as interesting.
First, a detail from yesterday I forgot to include. Sometime in there, I think while on the train to Marseille, we booked our train back to Tarascon. In a bit of black humor, we have to catch the train back to Nimes and then transfer to the one to Tarascon. There is no direct train from Marseille to Tarascon, even though we’ll race right past it today like we did last night; so probably I was wrong last night in thinking that the train we wanted ended in Marseille. It looks like we wanted the train to Avignon instead.
Whatever. There are only two itineraries to Tarascon today with space for bikes (and we’re lucky there are any!): one that leaves at 7:34, which we book; and a second one in midafternoon that would get us to Tarascon too late in the day to bike from there to our final destination for today, Saint-Remy-en-Provence, in time for a very important date.
So we set the alarm early and are up at five because we really don’t want to miss this train. Our first task on awakening is to create and load a GPS route to the Marseilles station, something I just didn’t have the energy to do last night.
We’re out the door before six, and the half mile ride up to the station goes much better than last night. Streets are quieter, virtually empty, and navigation is easy because we’ve got the route loaded on the Garmins so we can see it while we bike. We arrive at the station not long past six, and while I find a vacant bench and watch the bikes Rachael goes to a cafe stand and comes back with two quiches and large cups of coffee.
I’ve never been interested in coming to Marseille, a large, sprawling port city and one of the largest cities in France. The romantic Marseille I’d like to have seen is the one portrayed in Marcel Pagnol’s masterpiece the Marseille Trilogy, the heartbreaking tale of a love triangle set in the nearby Calanques a century ago.
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We’re here now though, living through a considerably less romantic episode in our own saga, so I at least go outside for a few photographs of Marseille as long as we’re here. I don’t imagine we’ll be back.
The train arrives on time to the minute. But then it’s Groundhog’s Day, as we have another long train with the bike car far down toward the other end another once more we’re rushing toward it and hustling to board, once more squeezing through a narrow door and up three steep steps. Today we’re assisted by a Good Samaritan who helps us lift our bikes up because it’s really quite a challenge - the bikes barely squeeze in, with the panniers scraping both sides. But we’re on in time and take our seats and settle in for the hour-long ride back to Nimes.
And we sit. Because in a truly bizarre plot twist this train too is held up for forty minutes by another equipment failure. You know what that means, of course - just like last night, we’re going to miss our connection to Tarascon. Deja vu all over again.
But finally we’re off; and as we leave the city we at least get to enjoy some good looks south across Étang de Berre, the Berre Lagoon.
And then comes a surprise when we unexpectedly pull into a train station, Arles. So this train, even though it’s an intercity to Bordeaux like last night’s, isn’t exactly the same. It has a stop in Arles. Go figure. We’re there briefly and then pull out again.
And then, in another of those incidents almost too embarrassing to self-report we almost fail to get off the train in Nimes and continue on to Montpellier instead. I had set an alarm on the iPad for about fifteen minutes before our arrival in Nimes so we could prepare for departure, but before it went off I am surprised when the train stops again at another station. We have come to a full stop and passengers anre already getting off when I pull up the map on the phone to see where we are and am aghast to see we’re in Nimes. I almost scream at Rachael that we have to get off immediately and while she collects bags I start pulling our bikes down from their hooks. Fortunately a train agent sees what is happening and starts exhorting us to hurry, hurry; and we do make it out in time, fighting through the crowd trying to board. And in a minor miracle, as near as we know at least we don’t leave anything behind.
So here we are once more, back in Nimes waiting for the train to Tarascon. This time though we’ve had the time to do the research and know which train we’re waiting for: the one to Avignon which leaves at around 11:00, roughly an hour and a half from now. While we wait for our departure gate to be announced, nerves are calmed by a pianist softly playing Chopin.
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Finally our gate is announced, about twenty minutes for departure: Platform A. We’re by the elevator to gates C and E, but can’t see an elevator to A so we just follow the signs and soon come to a moving escalator. Escalators with a bike are tricky to manage so I take mine up, leave it at the top and then go back down for Rachael’s. A minute later we find out has taken us only halfway up to the platform when we come to a second escalator which is unfortunately out of service so we’re left with a flight of stairs to scale.
We unload the panniers, which Rachael plans to carry up, and I start up the stairs with my bike and immediately encounter a mob coming down from a train which has just arrived. I can’t move forward so I just stand there halfway up the stairs until the hoard passes. Meanwhile, behind my back Rachael is also stuck on the stairs with two of our panniers, with a bike and the other two bags down at the bottom waiting to be snatched by a bad actor. And they are snatched, but by a very good actor! Because standing right behind Rachael on the stairs is this burly young guy, one bike slung over his right shoulder and the other two panniers in his other hand. What a hero!
So the train comes, we get on, and this time we really are going to Tarascon, only two stops and twenty minutes away.
There are only three announced stops for this short train: Pont du Gard, Tarascon, and Avignon. So at the second stop we get off, but after the train pulls away I look around and am startled to see we’re in Beaucaire, not Tarascon. We’ll never know now if there were actually four stops on this train and Beaucaire was an undeclared one, or if it stopped only here instead of Tarascon just a mile across the river.
It’s no matter though. This is fine and only adds an unexpected mile to the bike ride ahead. With great relief we coast down from the station and toward the nearby bridge across the Rhone, more than happy to leave the trains behind us. We don’t plan on being on a train again until we get to Montpellier in three weeks, and things will have to take a really bad turn to get us on one before then.
Still a pretty good story though, no?
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It’s only thirteen miles to Saint-Remy - a flat, easy ride all the way, nearly entirely on a paved bike path once we make our way across the river and through Tarascon. It’s a perfect ride for recovering sickies. They’re very pleasant miles as we enjoy the sun, the warmth and the familiar Provençal environment - we biked this route just two springs ago on our way from Barcelona to Calais. We just bike easily, keeping a slow but steady pace because we’re in a time box. We told our host we’ll be there between 12:30 and 1:00 so she can meet us at the apartment we’ve booked ourselves into for the next three nights, so we just bike and only stop for a few photos along the way. We’re a little pressed for time because we’ve arrived on a later train than planned.
Video sound track: Song for Alex, by Yasmin Williams
And we make it, too. We pull up at the end of our marked route just a few minutes before one, and Rachael pulls out the phone to check on the address of our apartment. And discovers it’s not actually here. It’s several blocks away, because I botched creating the route somehow.
And right then the phone rings with our host wanting to know if we’re close. We tell her we’re only about a minute away and then start biking her way. And about a block later we’re stunned to see two familiar faces biking our way. The Classens! Unbelieveable.
Well, almost unbelieveable because we knew they were in town since we’ve been communicating with them through email for the last few days. They reached out to us when they saw we were in their vicinity and were generous enough to alter their plans and bike up from Arles to here so we could have dinner together tonight. That’s the unmissable engagement I mentioned earlier.
We haven’t seen the Classens in person since we had a pot luck dinner in their back yard in Victoria five years ago along with the Mathers, the Grampies, and Jacquie and Al. At the time we claimed a record for convening the largest CycleBlazer gathering in history.
We can’t chitchat now though because our host is waiting, so we agree that we’ll catch up later and head to our apartment while they continue on to their loop ride to Castlerenaud. And we arrive at our apartment only ten minutes later because even in a small place like Saint Remy it’s very easy to get lost when you’re trying to navigate using a phone stuck in your pocket. When we arrive our host is sitting on a wall next to the street watching for our arrival.
We check in, Rachael heads off to the store while I collapse on the bed; and she joins me a half hour later when she returns. And then evening comes: we meet the Classens at an outside table of a cafe for drinks and then an hour and a half later move on to the restaurant we’ve booked a table at just around the corner. And we enjoy a fantastic evening - wonderful conversation, much laughter, very therapeutic. Thanks so much, Keith and Kathleen! Let’s not wait five years until next time, huh?
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1 month ago
Today's ride: 13 miles (21 km)
Total: 3,826 miles (6,157 km)
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