Notes From The Vélo : Fin

Did you already read Chapter Three?

Day 7
108.77 km
Chaumont Sur Loire --> Villandry

     This was the day that I saw FOUR châteaux.

1) Chaumont Sur Loire
     The first, of course was in Chaumont Sur Loire where I started. Do I regret not taking pictures? Nah, there are millions on the internet that put my photography skills to shame. château chaumont Hopefully, y'all can believe that I was actually here without seeing me in front of it making a peace sign.

2) Amboise
     Just before the city there is a huge hill. Which means that there are scenic stops to look down at the river and the castle. I took this photo while I was eating a Breton Galette. As mentioned earlier, I'm not much of a photographer so here's what it looks like when captured by someone who knows what they are doing Château Ambois Image.

Château D'Amboise

3) Tours
     Of all the places that I saw and stopped at on my trip, Tours was the worst. One of my favorite things about my bike adventure was how friendly EVERYBODY was. This stopped as soon as I entered Tours. No joke, I saw the sign for Tours and the next lady that I greeted could barely take a second to give me an evil eye before looking away. This place was dilapidated, industrial, overcrowded with grumpies, and confusing. I got out of here as fast as I could and took my lunch in a place called Lulu park. As you know, if this was the end of the story, it wouldn't be a hotlebug story, so let me tell you about my quadruple tour through Tours. 
     After my Lulu park lunch I mounted Monty B to pedal onward. I didn't make it far before I noticed that the river was no longer flowing the same direction that I was riding. I'm no expert, but I know that giant rivers don't suddenly change their direction of flow. Luckily, one of France's strengths is convenient tourism offices. Backtracking and going through Tours again didn't exactly please me, but I was given three maps with highlighted routes so I was confident I could find my way. Let me explain what *actually* happened.

• 1) I immediately lost the street signs for Loire a vélo. I asked someone how to find the piste cyclable for the Loire River, he pointed out where it was. I took his advice, and found myself staring at the exact same spot I was before. 
• 2) I followed the map a little more carefully this time. Got further into tours, I even found the train station. Tours immediately put a bad taste in my mouth, but the second time through this bad taste blossomed into hatred. The icing on the cake was the bike lanes. In tours, they're shared with Taxis! Nobody was using these taxis, which means I was sharing my lane with a bunch of parked cars. In addition, the lanes weren't big enough for both the bikes and the taxis, c'est a dire I was doing a bike/car weaving act for the second time. At one point I saw people with bike maps going the opposite direction. I stopped them and asked the woman how to get to the path going in the direction of Saumur. She seemed distracted but for some reason I trusted her. And what do you know, she guided me right back to the same spot as before.
• 3) You know how they say that a third time's a charm? It's not. This time I went a different way that seemed logical with my map. The problem with the maps is that only select streets were labeled. Along with that, the end of one map was not the start of the next. Furthermore, each time I stopped to ask for directions, the people would keep flipping the map around trying to figure out which river was which. Next time, I'm bringing a compass. Regardless, I did my best and as it started to rain a woman stopped to give me directions. I WAS ON CLOUD NINE when I found a shopping street that led to a bridge. This HAD to be it. No. After I got to the road next to the river, I went 500 meters and found the same spot as always.
• 4) I know what you're thinking, how could somebody with such a horrible sense of direction make it this far on a bike adventure? The answer is that it's easy to follow a river. It only becomes problematic when you have to go through a town and follow a different river for a bit. After three times through Tours my only goal in life was to leave Tours. And I did. I found Le Cher and followed him to my fourth Château. 

     Obviously I hated Tours too much to take a picture, but for the sake of consistency, here's a link to look at someone else's photo of the castle in Tours. Tours Château

4. Villandry 
     I was so tired by the time I got here but I was out of Tours and that was all that mattered. I was so pleased with my escape that I dropped $100.00 to sleep in a fancy hotel with 2 meals included. The food was good but this forever goes down as the day when I stayed at the "Cheval Rouge" (red horse) and ate horse for the first time. châteaux Villandry

Day 8
89.55 km
Villandry --> Saumur
     "Chinon, chinon rien." Of all the châteaux in France, this is the only one of which I know its pun. Laissez- moi expliquer. Chinon sounds very similar to "Si non" which means "if not" and "rien" means "nothing." I first heard this on the Montmartre walking gastronomy tour. It went something like this.
Jean Paul : We'll have a bottle of the Chinon
Server      : Chinon, chinon rien
Thanks to this, I decided to take a detour on the trip just to go to Chinon. I really love puns. This was the only châteaux that I paid to go inside of. In case you are curious, I said this word on the upside of 100 times this day.(I even wrote it in the guest book when I signed me name).
     I highly recommend Chinon to anyone going to France. There's a medieval city with great wine and the fortress is really cool! The fort has been transformed into a history museum. They even had a dress up room.

  

Day 9
16.33 km
Saumur --> Nantes
    My bike ride came to an abrupt end. I was riding, minding my own business when I noticed that my wheels seemed unbalanced. When I got off to look at my back tire, I immediately found the culprit. The tire had ripped open. At this point the tube was still holding air although sticking out of the tire. 3 . 2 . 1 . BOOOOM! I couldn't hear anything for a minute after the tube exploded in my face. I used my deaf time to think.
     What did I have to work with? For starters, it was a Sunday in France. For those of you who don't know, this means EVERYTHING is closed (except for the tabacco shops and the boulangeries, cigarettes and bread are really important in France). Here I was with my really heavy bike sporting a dead back wheel. When my hearing returned, I heard some people having a barbecue outside.
Me: Is there anyway I can get a new tire today?
Them : Nope, it's Sunday.
Me: There's a bus stop here, where does the bus go?
Them : Nowhere, it's Sunday.

done gone 'n' worn dem tires out

     In the end, I knew my options were to walk forward 8 kilometers then take a train to Angers where I could camp and find a bike shop the lendemain. My other option was to walk back 6 km to Saumur camp at the same site as the previous night and fix my bike in the morning. All I could think was, "this bites." I didn't want to do either. I took 5 steps forward with poor wounded Monty then stopped. I put my thumb up in the air and waited.
     When Martin stopped he originally offered to drive me to Angers. However, the only thing better than completing a challenge, is finding a way to get out of it. So when he mentioned he was going to Nantes I asked if I could go with him. My first time hitchhiking. My heart raced a bit but I felt safe because he had the same Hamsa amulet of protection hanging in his car that I had on my keys. I buckled up, put my window down, played a little ukulele, and for the first time in 9 days, I relaxed.

Nantes was cool. Will I write about it now? No, this is the story of my BIKE ADVENTURE. But here's a picture.

Les Machines de l’île

     One last thing. Monty B was left in Nantes. I just sighed and threw my head down thinking about where to start here. When I was buying my train tickets I did a bit of research to determine how to cross the country with my bike. On the website, there are little bike symbols if it is a train that allows bikes. I wasn't sure how to buy the 10€ bike ticket so I decided to go into the TGV office.
    I have to say that my lesson learned on this trip is to trust my instincts. This is based on the train stop the first day, the jerks who can't read a map but help anyway in Tours, and this woman who WORKS at the train ticket office. She told me that she was absolutely sure that I could take my bike on ANY train. She warned me that I may have to remove the front tire but that's it. When unsure about something ask an expert. However, keep in mind that just because its someone's job to know something, doesn't mean that they do.
     When I arrived at my platform I asked the conductors where my car was. They then asked me where I was going with the bike. I thought they were joking around when they told me bikes aren't allowed on this train. My response, "Vous rigolez!" haha I said it twice. Their eyes were like stones when they stared me in the eyes to convince me it wasn't a joke.
     I feel horrible that this vacation ends on a sad note. Let me assure you all that this is a comedy and not a tragedy. I learned so much about my capabilities, my limits, and my mind. My french got a bajillion times better and I met some amazing folks. Besides, I'm sure that Monty B is happier in his new home.

Monty B's Nantified makeover

Notes from the Vélo : Chapitre Trois

Have you read Chapter Two?

Day 5
72.25 km
Olivet --> Blois
     Two funny things happened this day.

1. 1) I patched up the tube on the inside of my tire 3 more times before I considered checking it for something sharp. Bingo! After that, no more flat tires.
2. 2) I made an old man friend named Gerard. (this one requires a little more explanation than the premier.)

     After I finally fixed my frustratingly frequent flat tire funk I was feeling on top of the world. My tires were holding air, it wasn't raining, AND everything around me was absolutely stunning. I lightheartedly put on some musique to sing along to as I rode. Thanks to this, an elderly man thought that I was talking to him and caught up to see what I wanted. He realized quickly that my accent was not french and asked where I was from.
     Gerard's response to me saying I was from U.S.A. was that there was a bench I needed to see. I wasn't sure if I was understanding him properly, regardless, I accepted without question. It was my fifth day of traveling alone. At this point, I was stopping to chat with the snails crossing the path. In other words, I was ecstatic to have someone to talk to. With my limited french and childish curiosity about french culture, I felt like a young girl talking to her grandfather. Thanks to this, I now understand at what time one stops saying bonjour (good day) and starts saying bonsoir (good evening).
     When we arrived at the bench, I was proud of my french comprehension yet unsure how to react to an ordinary bench. However, he was thrilled to show me a little plaque with an American woman's name on it so I asked him to take my photo with the bench. While this was happening, four more elderly french folks came along with stories to share about this wonderful American woman who had lived in their village.

     Their stories probably could have gone on for hours but then Gerard invited me to the cimetière to see the woman's gravestone. Why not? We've come this far. This presented another situation where I wasn't quite sure how to act. His shock at the lack of flowers on her gravestone didn't pass after a minute or even five. As the sun was starting to set I started to think about how I didn't know where I was sleeping that night. I needed to act quick without disrespecting this wonderful woman who had passed. Enfin, I offered to give him some money to bring her flowers another day. Gerard refused my money but promised to bring her flowers every time he passed by the cemetery.
     I found this really touching. I'm sure this happens everywhere in the world, however, it was my first time to see it. I'm more familiar with the scene of busy people rushing to point B. While here people get benches and their stories told just for being a sweet lady that smiled at her neighbors.
     Gerard biked with my all the way to Blois to make sure that I found the tourism office without problems. I found that Blois had all the charm of Paris with far less people. It was like a dream.

I walked on this surreal path because from further away I thought it might have been a painting.

Day 6
54.49 km
 Blois --> Chaumont Sur Loire
     On Thursday I rode for about an hour before I took my first break. I was resting under a tree to let some dark clouds pass by when a couple saw me and stopped to wait out the clouds with me. These people just so happened to be on a mission to bike across the world. Yep here's their site. http://www.nowhere2far.com/
 After they left I was so excited thinking about their excursion that I misread the bike trail signs and started following a different bike trail. Before I knew it I was in the middle of "Le Foret de Russy." When I finally managed to find a sign in this massive forest, there was no trace of the river, or any of my destination towns. Because it's no good to bike when frustrated, I stopped to clear my head and have a picnic before turning back. Finding my center was easy here as I was in an astonishing forest but more importantly a parade of 20 - 30 Penny farthing's passed through the woods.
     The good part about retracing your steps is that you have a second chance to experience the little things you missed. What I had missed the first time around was a sign suggesting to stop for a rest. Although well rested from my picnic, I followed the signs and discovered a garage covered in thank you messages. There were paintings, chalk boards, papers, etches in the walls, EVERYBODY was grateful. Also there was juice, water, cookies, crackers, tea, and a coffee machine. The only thing not in this garage was people. Of course that didn't stop me, I drank a full pot of coffee and ate about 3 cookies before I found a man, a woman, and a grandma. For people who invite strangers into their garage for coffee, they were surprisingly reserved.

     Of course it's annoying to get lost, waste time, and bike extra kilometers, but had this not happened, I wouldn't have met Estelle et Sebastian. I saw them just in front of me as I approached the intersection where I got lost before. I was scared of making the same mistake, so I asked this nice Parisian couple if I could roll with them for a bit. We didn't make it far before it started pouring. Thanks to power in numbers (or maybe they were just as embarrassed to admit weakness and suggest stopping as I was) we biked on through. There was no sign of the rain letting up and it was coming down hard! Finally after about an hour we found a campsite where we immediately undressed, threw all of our clothes in the dryer, set up camp and made a quaint piquenique together.

Look, ma! I made friends!

Notes From the Vélo : Chapitre Deux

Did you start at the beginning?

The majority of my bicycle voyage was marked by the shelter I found during the rain, and the resulting strange encounters.

Day 2 27 Avril 2014 
95.2 km
Sancerre---> Sully Sur Loire
     My first morning on the Loire was beautiful and breathtaking. To my great pleasure, the nature stretched as far as my eyes could see and all I could hear was the chansons of birds and the flow of the river. There was not a single person around to disturb this nirvana I had discovered. After that, I inevitably found my first taste of reality.

Ships n' storm clouds

    It's no secret that I'm very idealistic and often put myself in situations that require solutions. This is no exception. When planning my trip I always figured 100 km = 5 hours = no problem. I was thinking I could finish early to late afternoon everyday which would leave me plenty of time to stop, relax, explore, and sortir a bit at night. Nice try, Kho. Maybe I can manage that velocity on a smooth, flat road sans luggage but it's a different game when you add gravel paths, camping equipment, and frequent stops to dodge dark storm clouds. I learned quickly which clouds meant seek shelter. In the real world, the 4 or maybe 5 hours turned out to actually be 6.5 hours to bike the 97 km.
    Just in case my delusions weren't enough to teach me a leçon,  a never ending rain cloud rolled in when I was still 10 km from my campsite. I had no choice but to discover just how chilly camping in an April rain can be. It's cold enough that I never, in fact, made it to my campsite. I was too physically and psychologically drained to walk there, let alone deduce its location on a map . Instead I went to the game tent where I was told there were heaters. Of course they didn't work but being close to the idea of a heater was enough for me. I hung up my wet clothes and put on every single piece of dry clothing I had packed.  I was too tired to feel silly about pitching my tent inside the game tent as a German family loudly played pool and quietly judged me. Despite the cold cement below me, I slept like a rock. Or peut-etre, a frozen rock feeling nothing but pride after successfully completing a very difficult day.

My tent inside a tent, pas mal, eh?

Day 3 28 Avril 2014
62.34 km
Sully Sur Loire ---> Orleans

     Another day full of rain. I biked a bit in the morning, spent about three hours at a cafe waiting for a storm to pass, and as soon as it did, I biked like a maniac until I found another storm. The second one caught me absolutely in the middle of nowhere. Thanks to this, I got to try something that I had only seen happen in movies. There happened to be a farm with a "Propriété Privée" sign but I didn't want to get drenched so I ignored the sign and made myself comfortable in the garage next to a tractor. Based on every failm I had ever seen, I was prepared to either 1) get chased by a man with a shotgun, or, 2) get invited inside for un cafe. In my case, neither of the two happened. A man arrived with a truck and looked at me with a questioning smile. I nervously (and poorly) explained that I was there for shelter and would leave when the rain passed. He didn't understand the first time, but after my second desperate attempt at a french explanation he shrugged with a, "D'accord," before disappearing inside.

Monty B with his new tractor friend.

    After that, I got my first tire crevee as I arrived in Orleans. Because of this, I decided to blow off my camping reservation 16 km away so I could buy a new bike tube the next morning while in the city. I found a hotel, ordered a pizza and wings, and slept for 14 hours.

Day 4 29 Avril 2014
10.25 km
Orleans--> Olivet
     I was fresh and ready for a full day of biking. After fixing my tire and a quick bite to eat I was ready to roll. However, four unfortunate things happened. 1) Another flat tire 2) I got lost 3) Another flat tire 4) Another rainstorm.
     Okay a hole in the tube can be patched, and a second trou can also be patched. When lost, I can get directions, but when it's pouring and I don't want my warmed clothes to get wet, I have no choice to stop. I found myself wrapped in my bike cover under a friendly looking tree of a parking lot containing a handful of motor homes. To my surprise this parking lot was not a campground, but instead somebody's home. In fact, a nice somebody. The woman invited me inside to stay dry and drink a coffee.  Funnily enough, this woman told me that there was a campground nearby that just so happened to be the same campsite that I had made a reservation at the night before. However, I was not able to leave right away because I noticed that the son was watching the Simpsons in French. Can you believe that it was the episode when Homer stops going to church? My luck doesn't stop there, these folks even drove me to the campsite.
     I made my way to Camping Olivet. Here, I spent my evening in the community room with the cyclopathes, a very interesting family of four who were taking four months to bike 4000 miles across the Loire and the Danube.

Me with the youngest cyclopathe after a petit lecon d'ukulele.

     Honestly, I prefer the way my trip turned out. All of my luck was available to help me meet special and interesting people because none of it was used on giving me good weather.