15th September (sunny and warm) 26 km

Ah, Chalonnes sur Loire….a lovely little town sitting on the river, as it winds its way to the sea. Nothing exciting would ever happen here, it’s just that kind of place…..so what do they do to occupy themselves. Let me tell you. With our tent pitched directly beneath a thirty foot bank, leading to the quiet country lane, we prepared for a restful night, not realising that we had been serious sinners in a previous life and were now about to pay.

Firstly we had the 50 cc motorbikes, whining their way at full pelt along this road….racing each other….until at least the early hours. If it wasn’t the bikes it was the cars doing exactly the same thing, with the odd truck and trailer in there for good measure. What the hell trucks are doing on a road like this after midnight. Ooh Jean-Pierre our stocks of picture postcards has run out in Chalonnes, we must have them there by 2am, so there is time to put them on the shelves…..send twelve trucks loaded to the hilt and make sure they go through all ten gears on the way past the campsite….the campers there need some entertainment on a Friday night.

It was during those early hours laying there, having listened to Dad go to the loo, the prat next to Dad, turn up his Spanish version of Lethal Weapon as loud as he could and some other campers come back from a late one on the town, that I began thinking about how often over the years that Ju and I have encountered noisy places to lay our heads. This is the main reason why freecamping is almost always the better option.

Just as I was about to doze off, a donkey, who sounded like he was having a seizure, starts up in a field and let me tell you, in the now, still of the night, it sounded like he was in the same tent. Julia however, sleeps on and on and on..!

Morning finally arrives, but not before our local prat decides to make as much noise before 6am, just to wake us up before he disappears to wherever he was going on a Saturday morning.  The little sod even rang his bicycle bell on the way out, presumably to work.  Well, my son, he who laughs last, laughs loudest and you have made the crucial error of leaving the camp before us, leaving us still there with all your stuff……

Ju managed to get the wifi details and so was able to post the blog and photos. I took off to the supermarche to pick up the rest of breakfast, whilst Dad got his gear ready to load, other than his tent. Batiste came and sat with us while we ate breakfast. Nice kid, so I gave him our address, but it was hard to concentrate on anything but plotting my revenge against the Lethal Weapon watcher from the tent next door.  Alas he ruined my fun by returning to the campground just as we were leaving.

Began our ride today by cycling on the Isles de Chalonnes, a ten km stretch of nice flat riding on quiet roads. I want Dad to have as much of this type of riding over the final few days, rather than cars racing along at breakneck speeds, as it’s scary. Even today in parts we had boy racers flying by too fast and too close, not thinking as to how that affects the judgement and control of an eighty five year old. He coped admirably and soon we were in the town of Montjean sur Loire, where we found a nice shady spot to eat some lunch. This was a nice rest area and as we were only going 25kms today, we didn’t have to rush.

Back on the dykes again for a boring but safe 15km, but with not much to see other than the odd building, it was just a consistent plod, with Ju setting the pace. Arrived at our destination of St Florent le Vieil after crossing a bridge on foot, to a small island, where the camp was situated. Set up in the shade but on rock hard ground and prepared to go and visit the town.

St Florent LeVieil

After showers Ju and I took a ride into the township. Found an Intermarche and also a host of inbreds. You know when you suddenly find yourself on the set of Deliverance, well , that is what it was like. Learing, lecherous looks, eyeing up legs and bum…..and that was just ME….. I felt like a piece of meat, God knows how Ju felt. Dad had wanted to shout us dinner, but it wasn’t the place, we’ll wait until we get to Nantes, which is now very close, 50kms in fact.

For me this trip has been very special. There aren’t many sons who have such an adventure with their father at this age, but, as Dad has proved, it’s just a number. I have suffered numerous heart attacks along the way, watching, as he took such wide turns on the bike that he was on the wrong side of the road. I have watched as he has struggled with life in a tent and the adjustments that go with it and I have watched after all of that, as he has got up and done it all again, day after day and not thought about giving in. He is the person who, at a very young age, taught us, that it’s okay to try things. You may find that you’re not suited to that particular thing and that’s fine, but unless you try, you’ll never know. He has been there my whole life providing, wisdom, experience and encouragement in whatever I took on. It’s been my absolute delight and pleasure to be able, along with Julia, to provide him with an opportunity to do this and I know Mum would be smiling.

Picked up some beer, 8.6, a dutch brew, delicious and some panache, (shandy), for Ju and Dad, as well as some dinner, then back to camp where we had a drink and some nuts, before a lovely meal. We were hoping for a quiet night tonight, but a wedding party have booked in, so that might have gone out of the window. As the sun began to set, we drank coffee and ate cake, before a walk to the bridge, overlooking town to see if we can catch a glimpse of the sunset, before bed.