11th September (sunny and hot) 45 km

On entering this camp yesterday afternoon, Julia commented that this could be the best site yet. Next door was a swimming pool and a lake, what better for a water baby who can’t spend five minutes away from the water without getting withdrawal symptoms. However, as we have found out, as soon as autumn arrives here, close the doors on the swimming pools, this one included. The lake wasn’t fit for swimming in, so suddenly, it wasn’t looking that good.

After our walk last night, we went our separate ways, snuggled down into our tents, when suddenly, a sound straight from the Dementors out of Harry Potter starts to build in intensity. Oh yeah… we’ve done it again….This seemingly quiet little village, with its little railway track, servicing the local steam train enthusiasts, turned out to be the main trunk line from hell to purgatory.

As soon as we’d laid our heads on our makeshift pillows, this deafening noise came screaming through the tents. It was as though you were actually laying on the tracks. After five, within the first ten minutes, I knew what kind of night it was going to be. Upon rising this morning I asked Dad how he got on with the trains. That wasn’t the problem for Dad, he was freezing cold. He had multiple layers on but still couldn’t get warm. I forgot to mention that if the trains consistent noise during the night didn’t get you, then then main roads traffic, definitely would. That is, unless you are Julia, who did hear the first few trains before falling into her usual death sleep, at which point she is totally oblivious of any noise activity that occurs from then on. As I am being butchered in my sleep and cut into little pieces with a Stihl chainsaw, the peaceful world of Julia continues.

“What time do you think it is ?“ I asked this morning

“7am” Julia replies

“I’ll  go 6.40am”

It was 7.01am

That’s about the fifth time I’ve asked and she’s been within a minute of the time, that’s if she’s not on the mark. You could look at it in two ways. I could say what I normally say which is,

“Oh right again, eh hon“and carry on about my day, 

Or I could feel really sorry about how sad she is going to feel, when she eventually gets it wrong. I’ve been with Ju  thirty two years now, she’s surely got to get something wrong sometime…..I mean, what about the law of averages and all that…!

So, as yesterday marked the end of Dad’s first week in the saddle, today begins the second and final week. He has done extremely well, especially dealing with traffic on the busier roads. His reaction times and fluidity on this bike, which is foreign to him, have sometimes caused problems, but generally only when he’s tired and at eighty five, that’s sooner rather than later. We have to be aware of that, because generally the last part of a ride when pulling into camp, can provide us with busy roads to negotiate.

Breakfast, delicious as always. Julia had been trying since early on this morning to call her Dad to wish him a happy 90^th, but for whatever reason, couldn’t reach him. Out of the gates we rode, with only the bridge we came in on to cross, which was a possibility for problems, but not this morning. Worked our way through the township without issue and soon we were on the Loire-a-Velo cycle route and cruising along very minor lanes.

We had left camp at 10.30am and already the sun was fierce in the cloudless sky. Not too far into it, Dad complained of a sore shoulder, probably more to do with the tension than anything else. Gave him some stretches to do and we were off. The days since we began cycling with Dad have been gorgeous, which is a bonus, because it’s tough enough trying to help him with everything connected with life on the bike and in a tent, without having to worry about hypothermia.

There are always plenty of cyclists doing this Loire Valley route, some are very pleasant and others are downright miserable. But what an amazing opportunity for people who wish to travel, virtually traffic-free, through picture postcard scenery. I would strongly recommend to anyone who was thinking of their first bike tour, to give this one a crack.

Cycling towards Rigny Usse Chateau

Julia here: As we cycled along in this pleasant, but parched land, we noticed the spires of the Chateau at Rigny-Usse.  Even from a distance this chateau was impressive, but as we turned onto the road to go and see it up close, the view just got better and better.  We had the best view available to us free of charge, which is always much appreciated.  While we were parked in the shade, I took the opportunity to phone my Dad once more, not sure if the phone would even work out here in the middle of nowhere.  It rang familiarly for several times and then I was totally surprised to hear my Dad’s voice, “Hello, Hobo here”.  The worst thing about travelling is missing family and it was very good to hear his voice again and be able to wish him a happy birthday.  It sounded like he had a good day and was out for most of it so I was lucky to catch him when I did (10pm NZ time) as he’d only just got in. That made my day.

From the Chateau we decided to ditch the Loire-a-Velo in favour of the road in front of the chateau as it looked quite shady.  As it turned out, it wasn’t that shady and had a few little hills in it which Jimmy coped with really well.  I quite enjoyed them for a change as the constant flatness can be a bit monotonous.

Just after riding past the nuclear power station on the side of the Loire, we realised if we wanted a supermarket, we would have to backtrack a bit to Avoine.  We found a shady spot to have a nectarine each before setting off for Avoine which was only a few kms down the road.  Found the supermarket no problem and there was a free public toilet there too – no toilet paper however, which is a frustrating French curiosity.  It’s quite accepted here that you provide your own toilet paper at public conveniences – only this is incredibly inconvenient if you a) left your toilet paper 200m away with your bike and husband or worse b) don’t have any toilet paper!

This little town was a real hub for bikepackers and there were several groups seeking shade in the town square while they ate their lunch – us included.  We had a quick chat to an older Irish couple and two young American girls who were on a four day tour and loving it.  Jimmy was getting pretty tired but if we wanted a campground with a supermarket nearby, we would have to pedal another 13km.  He assured us he could do it, and he did, but it was a bit of a struggle for him at the end.  The heat is extremely energy sapping and we were all relieved to roll into camp at 3.30pm.

Cold showers all round while the tents dried from their condensation this morning, then we put the tents up and blogged a bit.  About 6.30pm, Pete and I cycled to the supermarket about 2kms away.  I suggested we take two shopping bags seeing as once we get into the shops, we usually want to buy their entire inventory.  Pete said ‘No, one will be fine”.  I refer to his tirade this morning – do you think one was enough?  He moaned the whole 2 kms back to the camp how his arm was going to drop off.  Maybe next time he’ll agree to take two bags.

12th century church in Candes St Martin

And an old castle on our way to the supermarket

Pete here :Chivalry is not dead, hence why I shouldered the entire burden. Yes, there may have been the odd grumble, but to relieve my fair maiden of any torment, I, Pete of Cande St Martin, shall endeavour to provide comfort to the lady who took my name. Thou it shall not be said that I was a French pussy.

After a delicious meal of coq o vin….canned style….together with shandys and a 10.5 per cent proof beer,  followed by coffees all round, we ended the day, the second 45km day in a row for Dad, chatting in the still evening light, until around 8.40pm when we prepared ourselves for, what we hope will be a more peaceful nights sleep.