Day 61: Avignon to Le Sambuc

October 9, 2024

Now with subtitled photos and the conclusion of the day!

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We came out of our "Medieval" hotel and of course were immediately re-immersed in medieval Avignon. Just glancing around, we noticed a clock/bell tower standing in the middle of Place Pie. Google tells us it is the 16th century St Michel tower, but even at that we don't know why it is standing there or who built it and why. OK, gotta move on!

We were soon in what we consider the main square - the one with the carousel.

and then charging up and down streets, heading for the exits

Heading for the exits is a true representation of the situation, because Avignon was and is a walled town, with twelve gates. I am not sure how many of these remain intact, but we certainly passed through one to continue our journey.

Just inside the gate, Avignon has one of these hokey giant letter affairs. It may be hokey, but it did attract my photo!

In each and every old city we visit, there is a dramatic difference between the old core and the surrounding doughnut of urban development. In Avignon it's striking, because the wall clearly defines the old core. As you see from the photo below, once out we were immediately fighting with trams and car traffic. The car is driving over a bit that is supposed to be for bikes, when there is no tram there. Ha!

So it's generally fight it out with the traffic - stressful!

Out here there is some certain provision for bikes, but the town remains boring here.

Riding along in the urban "doughnut" it occured to me that this was the type of territory that tends to spawn bike shops. A bike shop is again high on our list, because once again the Magura hydraulic rim brakes are giving trouble. Some of this can be helped with new brake pads, but those specialized pads are hard to find. We did try at a shop in Bourg St Andeol, but without success.

Dodie took my advice about looking for a shop out here, and identified three. We made our way in the difficult to traverse streets to the first - out of business. So we set off to the second. This turned out to be a kind of coop bike repair thing, and they did not sell parts.

However one of the volunteers (pictured) phoned the third shop for us. It was not open yet, but we headed there anyway.

We arrived at the third shop at 9:30 opening time. This indicates that we had already squandered an hour and a half since leaving the hotel. But we seemed to be in luck. See where it says "Magura" behind the man's head i the photo? That's our brand! And yes, they had our pads! But two glitches. First, in terms of getting another bleed of the brake line, they said leave the bike and come back in some days or a week! Next, those Magura pads do come at various price points, depending who is selling them. 10 euros a pair would be a really top price. I already had two pairs in my Amazon.fr cart, for a total price of 9 euros, if I had had a place to send them to. But here, they wanted 22 euros a pair! I was sure the man was making an error looking up the price, because that was truly ridiculous. I dragged out my phone, and showed him the 9 euros for four, as a typical price. His response was that as a local bike shop he could not be expected to compete with Amazon. The discussion did not go any further, as Dodie dragged out 44 euros, arguing that we did not have time to argue.

The man is smiling because we made his day by paying the ripoff price.

Now it's more nondescript Avignon, as we claw our way out of the urban grip.

Finally, we were out, as can be seen from our first photo of olive trees. We know that as this phase of the trip progresses there will be huge numbers of these, plus of course lemons and oranges and other Mediterranean trees and plants.

Here we came upon a crew harvesting a large field of fennel. We were interested to see not only that amount of fennel, but that the crew was a mix of apparently African men and Vietnamese women.

Some fennel was left behind in the harvesting. Not big enough yet?

The next crop up was butternut squash. Oh, some squash soup would be nice, about now.

I usually tell the story of a day by working with and around the photos, which not only are illustrations, but help me remember what happened and in what order. Today, I did apparently did manage to upload the photos, but the hotel internet has died, and I see only grey boxes beyond this point. Maybe those of you with real internet will still see something below, but its a roadblock for me in terms of finishing the blog tonight.

Here, in a paragraph, is the summary of what happened next. Some readers might find it a boon not to have to go through the whole long illustrated thing. But really, we need to come back tomorrow with better internet and fill this in.

In a nutshell, We travelled through pleasant agricultural lands, between Avignon and Arles, and even finding more Pink Lady apple orchards. But though it all, a horrendous forceful headwind fought us. About ten or so km out of Arles, we connected with a nice bike path, that helped us get to the city in reasonable time. My dream had been to pass through the market, that we knew was today, and to find some tagine for lunch. Dodie was saying that with the wind, we would have no time to dilly dally in Arles, and still get to our stay in Le Sambuc, 25 km south.

When we did enter Arles, we were again and instantly blown away by its Van Gogh -like beauty. But we dutifully moved to just pass on through - until Dodie spotted a Moroccan restaurant, with tagine and cous cous dishes out on its menu board. We pulled in, and had the most wonderful, dream come true, pair of dishes. We then dilly dallied our way past the Roman ampitheatre, the beautiful souvenir shops, the pastel coloured buildings - it was wonderful.

Eventually is was over a bridge and on towards our beloved Camargue. This should have been a short hop, to get our toe in the Camargue at Le Sambuc. But the headwind just howled, and we cranked and cranked, making little progress.

We did however run into our first white horses, and I "interviewed" one for a video to send to grandkids. We also spotted the iconic black bulls. Flamingoes are yet to pop up.

The final 10-15 km were on a road with high speed traffic, and with the high speed wind, it was really a trial. We finished with our bikes' range down to single digits. Our hotel in this outpost town is very basic, smells funny, and as we see, does not have working internet. You are reading this courtesy only of my phone sharing a hot spot.

As i set here at 9:30 p.m. the wind is still howling outside. We are having trouble catching a break with weather on this trip. But of course, tomorrow is another day. Be sure to tune back in to this page, once all the great photos are up. And let us know by email if in fact you see anything beyond this point!

A gentle agricultural ride between Avignon and Arles.

To our left we could see bits of the small mountain range known as Les Alpilles. Perhaps the best known town in that region is St Remy.

One of our favourite crops is lettuce, which is always photogenic when planted in quantity.

At least ten km out of Arles, the good path became great, as we see here. Separated from the cars, of course.

Coming out of the fields, and out of the strong headwind, Arles was (as always) a revelation.

Dodie spotted this sign, and made an instant decision that this was not to be missed.

We installed ourselves in the street, of course.

I did not bother to ask for a menu, but just talked to the waiter about what we might like. He found the closest on his actual menu: Couccous with lamb and chickpeas for Dodie and chicken tagine with green beans and olives for me.

I ducked inside the restaurant for a look, coming back with this shot of the tagine crockery.

We know from experience that that quantity of thin green beans is not easy to grow or to prepare!

Aside from the different ingredients in our two dishes, we mulled for a bit the real difference between a couscous dish and a tagine. But are stewed a long time and both have a lot of couscous. My tagine came with couscous on the side, while Dodie's couscous had the couscous built in and flavoured. Both were great, and we were so happy!

Having used up all sorts of time we did not have, with the tagine, we now proceeded through Arles. Technically, we had to go through to get to the Camargue, but it was so wonderful that we really could not rush.

Souvenir shops near the amphitheatre had great Provence stuff. This included "Santons"

A santon is a small hand-painted figurine cast in terracotta or a similar material that is used for building nativity scenes. Santons are a traditional product of the Provence region of southeastern France. A maker of santons is called a santonnier. The word "santon" comes from the Provençal "santoun," or "little saint." They became popular during the French Revolution, when the churches were closed and the larger, traditional nativity scenes in churches prohibited. Smaller figurines began appearing in homes, and quickly gained popularity.

Arles just looks so "Provence". It is gay and colourful in a way that avignon is not.

Over a bridge, and we were out of Arles and on our way to the Camargue! A poster, at a bank or something, showed the Camargue horses that we are convinced are Unicorns in disguise.

We took to a side road, and ran immediately through some dressed up Pink Ladies.

But we were intrigued by these yellow and not pink apples. They turned out to be, by our guess, Yellow Delicious. Yellow Delicious is one of the parents of Pink Lady.

But we were really thrilled when we encountered some of the Camargue horses in person. The one below was very friendly, and got to eat our stolen Yellow Delicious apples. He might not think this was his best photo, but in truth, the movie star ones from the poster were more dramatic.

This friend of our apple eating horse has a little more charisma.

Another of the Camargue iconic things is rice. We had never actually looked at rice that closely. The plants were surprisingly tall.

And finally, icon wise, the Black Bulls! (These seem quite small and friendly.)

And oh, look at these beauties!

Hey, do you guys want to come to Le Sambuc?

The remainder of this day, which should have been a simple 20 km run to Le Sambuc , was one of the most gruelling and stressful of the tour. The south wind directly in our faces was at about 50 kph, and the straight road was attracting an inordinate number of drivers, ones that think a straight road must mean they are on a race track straightaway. By the time we arrived at our fleabag hotel, the Longo Mai, I was totally beat. I think Dodie, while very tired, was in fact doing better. Longo Mai smelled funny - a combination of unneutered cats, sewer gas, and maybe cowboy sweat. And when the wifi went in and out, I had had it. Next thing I knew, it was tomorrow!

Today's ride: 75 km (47 miles)
Total: 3,150 km (1,956 miles)

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Tricia GrahamAll your photos up at the end of the blog
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1 month ago

Suzanne GibsonI saw lots of pictures at the end of your narrative.
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1 month ago

Mark Bingham75 kilometers against that headwind! You two must be beat!
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1 month ago

Karen PoretGreat to see smiling Dodie waiting for your feast!
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1 month ago

Keith ClassenIsn’t great after a stressful and gruelling day to reach the comfort of an aromatic hotel.? Who takes credit for booking that one?
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1 month ago

Steve Miller/GrampiesTo Keith ClassenDodie always gets the credit for all bookings. Usually they are good, this one not so much.
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1 month ago