France

After a much needed day off exploring Aix in Provence we took to the road once again. We decided since we are running a bit behind schedule to skip Avignon and simply go straight across to Arles. Shortly into the ride to Arles we felt the benefit of our day off...stronger legs and we enjoyed a nice ride to Arles. Arles itself is a beautiful old city with a Roman Coliseum which is in various stages of preservation and restoration but largely intact. We actually managed to find a campsite in Arles, where we met an Italian musicologist, hitching his way across France with only his rucksack and guitar, on his way to St. Marie de la Mer to experience the music of the annual Gypsy pilgrimage to Saint Sarah the Black (the unmentioned daughter of Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene). Allen freestyled a blues tune since named the Bicycle Blues and we were off to sleep and off to parts unknown.

Leaving Arles we took a wrong turn and ended up on the right road through the Camargue, a national wetlands area, which was flat as a pancake and reminded us somewhat of what Minnesota might look like, had either of us ever been there. The Camargue promised to be the home of flocks of Pink Flamingos, however, for a good part of the ride the only flamingo we saw was a 30 foot tall steel scuplture whcih we assumed represented the now extinct pink flamingos of the Camargue...and then we saw them, real life wild flocks of pink flamingos in their natural habitat, quite a beautiful sight. The pink flamingo is an intelligent bird that does not like to be photographed, we stopped close to a flock to take a picture and they promptly began walking away while turning their backs on us, like we haven´t had that experience before...

The ride through the Camargue was made easier by imagining that we were being chased by a mythical beast that lived inside the depths of the Camargue and was just waiting for the Gods to release it and have the two of us for lunch. Thankfully the only blood that was lost in the Camargue was from the Mosquitoes at our campsite in Vic di Gardiole just outside of Montpellier. The campsite was hot and muggy, and the conditions made it impossible to sleep. Oh Well, back on the bikes again.

The road to Narbonne took us through the last vestiges of the the flat, wind at our backs, land of the Camargue. We arrive late into Narbonne and, despite being teased with a sign promising campsites at the entrance to the city, found none, and ended up in a hotel once again. Leaving Narbonne was no easier than finding a place to stay there as we experienced our first mechanical difficulties of the trip. Allen had been complaining that his rear brake wasn´t working properly, so we decided to seek out a bicycle shop in Narbonne before leaving, they were closed, and so we sat down to figure it out ourselves when we noticed that it wasn´t the brake at all! Actually, Allen´s rear wheel had practically exploded, four broken spokes which had been blown for who knows how long had rendered the wheel, in the words of one bicycle shop that we found that was actually open, DEAD! Nothing that 250 Euros and an entirely new wheel set couldn´t fix, and by 4:30 p.m. we were finally on the road, after a brief stop at KFC! Despite our mechanical troubles and our late start we managed to make the entire trip to Perpignan, some forty five miles, thanks to a mostly downhill grade, some sunshine, and a little help from our friends the Camino Angels!

Once again, NO CAMPSITE IN PERPIGNAN, but it was our last night in france!

First, please forgive any spelling or punctuation mistakes, the French decided that it was a good idea to change the placement of letters on the keyboard and trying to learn it is slow going...

From our night in Antibes we awoke to the sun shining once more and so enjoyed a beautiful ride along the beaches of Cannes sticking to the coast as we road to St. Raphael. Along the way you pass small bays of emerald green and saphire blue water rolling into red rock cliffs and beaches, and every climb is rewarded with yet another gorgeous view of the next little town, the next little cove, the next little piece of the simple life, it was spectacular! St. Raphael itself was a happening little beach town where we found our first French campsite, after riding in circles around the town, finding the tourist office, and being told that we had to ride back the way we came 5km, but the site itself overlooked to ocean and was grass rather than the hard rocky ground of the Italian campsites! The coast route was as it had been through Italy, mostly even when you average the ups and downs, but with short downs so it takes a toll on the legs, so this day wasn't much mileage.

From St. Raphael we decided to turn to the interior and leave the coast, though it had treated us so well, we were looking for something different, aa different landscape, and we were rewarded by one giant vineyard in the interior. literally it seems as if the entire area we covered over the next few days was vineyard, and indeed we stopped and picked up some of the local fruit of the vine to enjoy along the way...it's cheap, damn tasty, and flows freely! The ride from St. Raphael quickly turned into a set of long rolling climbs and descents on which we realized that the power we tried to demand from our legs just simply wasn't there. Spinning at a decent pace was no problem, but when the call for that something extra came to climb the next hill, the body simply didn't respond, and yet, we made 60 miles to St. Maximine where we were yet again left with staying in the hotel as the only campsite in the area we had passed 12 miles previously! It was Allen's birthday so a hotel and a nice meal eatten in the shadow of the medieval church were in order!

The next day's ride took us to Aix en Provence, again on tired legs we made 20 miles and decided to stop and even take a day off. Aix en Provence seems to be a younger city with lots to entertain and we are enjoying its exploration...

We didnt quite reach France on Thursday, rather we made it just short of Ventimiglia as we spent our morning in Albenga doing laundry and other errands. Ventimiglia provided one of the quietest campsites yet as well as so,e conversation with a couple from Missouri who had quit their jobs and were traveling around Europe. A quiet canpsite that is until around 3am when it began to pour down rain on our tents. This has happened one other night and was over by the morning, but this was not our luck on this occassion! By 5am Nathans tent had collapsed when the stake pulled out of the wet ground and Allens tent had an inch of standing water inside and it was still raining...we finally got up around seven and pulled all of our gear into the only dry place, the bathroom, and were packing up when it finally stopped raining. No more rain fell on us until we reached our end of the ride in Antibes France at which point we were forced to take the only room left in town (thank you Cannes Film Festival) at a price much outside our budgets.

Now the rain while it bookended our day was not the story of the day, rather leaving Italy and crossing into France at Menton where, despite Duvals best guess we did not trade our bikes for a car, but rather picked up a nice downhill ride into Monte Carlo and Monaco where we stopped to catch our bearings. Climbing out of Monte Carlo we found beautiful cycling tracks leading through Nice where we stopped for lunch as the sun made an appearance and tasted our first really good beer of the trip, Leffe, a Belgian Style Abbey Ale, and may I just say GOODBYE Peroni and Moretti! More cycling track our of Nice all the way to Antibes, a beautiful ride!

Today on through Cannes and likely into the interior in search of some good French wine!