Scenic France

Easier is a relative term; this was still to be a long ride of nearly 80 miles.

The Team, sadly depleted by one now because Paul’s knee has become too troublesome to allow him to continue, started the day with the by now familiar routine of packing, breakfast and then preparing their electrolyte drinks and checking the bikes.

After six months of training, to have to give up before half way must have been a big disappointment to Paul but he was clearly struggling and the problem wasn’t going away.  He would have stood little chance of riding more than a short part of each day’s haul, which would perhaps have been even more frustrating for him than accepting defeat.  At least we were still somewhere from where he could get home by train without too much difficulty;  after today’s ride we’ll be much more off the beaten track.

So another morning ritual of preparation, with the car parked cheekily but successfully in a pedestrian-only area outside the Hotel, which made a big difference to the practicalities.  Our newly acquired cool box meant we could take some ice with us too, which was helpful.

There was a loud explosion and Ben  arched his back, as if shot from the rear.  The gas cylinder device he carries in one of the pouches on the back of his shirt in case of need to inflate a tyre quickly had spontaneously discharged.   No serious injury but it certainly took him by surprise.  That peiece of kit has been relegated to the spares box in the car.

Ben's exploding tyre inflator

By shortly after 9am the Team were off again – the last I would see of them for several hours because of my list of support jobs for the morning, so regrettably the next part of this report concerns only stuff about my humble role as car driver and dogsbody.  Jump down a bit to catch up with the Team.

My first little task each day is to settle up with the Hotel, which I’ve found sometimes involves negotiation.  Today I had to argue the toss with the morning Receptionist about the special rate agreed with the evening Receptionist for the extra rooms we needed because doubles rather than twins had been booked for us by mistake.  I don’t suppose there would have been a problem with sharing double beds if they’d all gone to a private school in their youth but scruples they have retained, so twins it had to be.  I suppose the snoring is enough to have to put up with without period blasts of hot air.  Anyway this morning the special rate was deemed to have been “impossible”, it couldn’t be done, it could not have been agreed.

Another day, another long ride

Fortunately the Receptionist was called Amelie and I think the clincher in the discussion was that I told her I had a granddaughter called Amelie.  She was suddenly much more accommodating.  Mind you I had also had the foresight to get last night’s Receptionist to write the agreed special rate for me, which presumably helped a bit.

Then it was a quick walk through the Town centre to the cycle shop for more spares, which turned out to be closed all day, which solved that problem.  Then I drove Paul to the Railway Station, then found the Laundrette, which one of the French speakers in the Team had got the Receptionist to mark on a street map for me.

Epernay isn’t a really big place but it’s got lots of one way streets and what looks like a ring road on the map turns out to be a narrow road between old buildings, which limits the help you get from satnav.  Turning into traffic has its difficulties too because with all the luggage piled up in the back I have a very limited view to the left – the direction from which the attacks generally come.  These French drivers make a lot of noise but they chicken out when a big Volvo with a projecting bike rack pulls out on them; there must be something about projecting metalwork that acts as a deterrent.

Making good progress

I found the laundrette and what’s more I could park across the road from it, albeit blocking someone’s garage entrance.  Then I had to face the really challenging bit; getting a washing machine to work.  For a start you needed coins, which I’d  lacked the foresight to accumulate.  There was however a Bar Tabac just across the road and since I bought a cafe-au-lait to get some change rather than just asking for it, the owner was very accommodating and let me take the cup of coffee as well as the change across the road to face the even bigger challenge.

Now I know you ladies will scoff at this but I don’t know how to drive a washing machine and I certainly don’t understand programming one and how much of what sort of soap to put in.  However I knew the clothes went in the porthole on the front and I worked out how to feed the money in to the Control Panel for all the machines over on the wall, which I suspect might have had you ladies scratching your heads.  But what I didn’t anticipate was that the machine set off enthusiastically all on its own as soon as I shut the door – without any soap in.  Had I blown it I wondered?

Tom feeling splendid

There was a flap on top and underneath I could see water flowing down into a hole in the left hand of two compartment so I poured in my travel wash liquid as quickly as possible so I didn’t miss the boat.  It wasn’t a full bottle so I chucked it all in, having no idea what quantity was actually required.  Then I remembered that too much can be bad news.

It would be an exaggeration to say that I covered the whole shop with suds and indeed it didn’t overflow all that much at all.  I think it was at about this point that I noticed a dial on the front which, by comparing with the dials on other machines I worked out showed the phase it was operating.  Mine was doing a pre-wash.

PK and Liz at speed

I decided that discretion being the better part of valour I would repair to the Bar Tabac again to use their other facilities and let the thing sort itself out, which eventually it seemed to do quite nicely.  There were still plenty of suds around when it got to the main wash which seemed OK to me and by the time the machine had done all its rinses they all seemed to have gone, which was even better.

At this point, when the machine was close to finishing on the dial, I decided that it was time to phone Management back home for advice about drying.  I didn’t mention the soap problem because it seemed to have solved itself.  My dear wife Liz was extremely helpful and didn’t laugh once when I told her what I was trying to do.  Instead she told me how to decode the washing symbols on the labels and that it was important not to ignore “do not tumble dry” symbols.

Davbe Pears, aka Pearsey

The first few things I grabbed didn’t even have labels and the first one that did have one had the dreaded “do not tumble dry” symbol.  That was all the excuse I needed; I would quit while I was ahead and dry the clothes by other means.  Back into the bin liner they all went and I moved on the next challenge, finding somewhere to buy food.  To food, dear to my heart, I had applied forethought, I’d even written a list. to try not to miss anything out.

Satnav took me to a supermarket without difficulty but of course once I was among the rows and rows of shelves I stopped following the list and bought other, more appealing stuff.  I suppose if I had stuck to the list I wouldn’t have forgotten the baguettes, but apart from that I did fairly well and bought the Team a special treat.  The supermarket sold pre-packed sandwiches and I’d  grabbed a selection of those, so the lack of baguettes wasn’t the end of the world; they might suffer withdrawal symptoms from lack of Hazel’s Banana Butties for a day but it wouldn’t kill then nor, I hoped, would they kill me.

Will pressing onwards

I was just heading out of Epernay to start catching up while I got the call from Ben that Tom was struggling with his knee and needed picking up.  It took me the best part of an hour to reach Tom, despite scant regard for the speed limits on the open and mostly straight and quiet roads, so the Team had been making very good progress.  I found Tom sitting under a tree, picked him up, an ice pack was applied and off we went to try to catch up.

We didn’t catch the Team up for some time but it worked out well because by the time we did they were ready for lunch and only half a mile or so ahead was a suitable stopping place. There was a nice little garden outside a deserted Marie (Town Hall) in a small village which also had some benches to sit on and trees for shade from the sun.  It would do nicely.

Lunch Break - always a mixture of rest, eating and some ad hoc physiotherapy

The Team had been troubled by lots of flies which would end up in their mouths unless they kept them shut so it had been an unusually quiet morning, conversationally speaking.  With no windscreen to deflect them they were covered in the things.  Travel wipes were popular as they decontaminated themselves.

They flopped less desperately than the previous day and ate with more enjoyment and chat.  The roads were much easier to ride than on previous days, hence the faster progress.  I’d bought a small case of nectarines as well as the pre-packed sandwiches, which also gave them some personal choice about what sort to have – and I’d replenished the supply of crisps.  They had not been happy when the crisps had run out the day before so I had bought several varieties.

I’ve learned however that if you let them loose on everything you end up with lots of half eaten packets, so I’ve started hiding stuff in the car and releasing new packets only when they finished the last one.  Just like a Mum does when she’s looking after a bunch of kids I suppose.

Pearsey & PK

It’s very good spectator value when a decision is required from the Team, such as what time shall we set off or where shall we eat dinner.  These guys are all achievers in their own way and they are used to make decisions, so they make them.  Then someone makes a different one, and then another.  It’s all very friendly and civilised and there’s no falling out but their unusual way of achieving consensus is good spectator value.

With no urgent chores, lovely weather and some beautiful scenery and Tom to take the pictures on the move, we got the chance to take the action shots you see here.  The Team enjoyed their afternoon ride (no big hills!)and so did I.  Tom’s knee was sore and he’d rather have been riding but he might even have enjoyed the afternoon too.

Pool wind down - the other residents rapidly fled

And to top it all the Hotel turned out to be a really nice one, albeit with some reservations.  The Receptionist, a conspicuously unsmiling man, of the same age and demeanour as the chap who ran Bates Motel, didn’t promise much at first but the rooms were nice and they even had a small swimming pool.

It was unheated and far too cold for bathing by any sensible person but it was a good substitute for a whole body ice pack.

Then they were asleep in no time

Instead of their usual warm down ballet-style routine, in they went, still wearing their cycling gear, thereby killing two birds with one stone and getting the flies off at the same time.

The other guests, relaxing on the sun beds, discretely fled.  “Mein Gott” one of them muttered.

Showered, rested, fed and relaxed; a contented Doug

Easier roads, a shorter distance and therefore an earlier arrival at the Hotel made a big difference.  There was no rush to get ready so everyone had time to unwind as well as shower and change before we strolled round the corner to a local restaurant for some food.

The restaurant turned out to have its limitations and we’d perhaps been directed there by our unsmiling host because all the eaters seemed to  be guests at our Hotel, but we were fed and watered eventually and mostly with what we’d ordered. Healthy eating was the majority choice, even including me.

This is still by no means a holiday, but this evening it felt a bit less like an unrelenting ordeal.  I think the Team deserved that small respite.

I wonder how the Proprietor is going to cope with us at breakfast, assuming we survive until breakfast.  I still can’t decide whether he’s just a bit shy or more ominously weird, like in the movie.