Prologue, Planning, Packing

2009 was my first visit to France, to Europe actually, and my first cycle tour there. Oddly enough, this text is written after my 2010, second, solo trip in the Cevennes.

Luberon landscape

My husband Roy wanted to go too: he cycles some and it would be his first cycle tour anywhere. I spoke a bit of French and thought I could learn enough to get by, but he wasn’t interested in learning any. I wanted to see the country, its landscapes and cities, but the details weren’t important to him. It was my trip to organize and plan. I needed to define the route, improve my language skills, and accommodate our tight budget and my limited vacation time. 

Street scene Aigues-Mortes

Memoirs and the little bit of history I’d read easily decided me on the south of France, but just where? I wanted to see the land that produced a cuisine I am so fond of: Provence, with its olives, fish, wine, almonds, cheeses, fruit. I wanted to see a much older history than we have in the US: Roman and medieval France. I wanted to see the Mediterranean. Of course, I wanted to see Paris, but that was not a part of the bike trip.

French training: having no intention of being one of those visitors who expects everyone they encounter to speak English, I studied French daily: working with CDs, beginning with Lesson 1, CD 1. Unhappily I remembered only the most basic of basics, as I had never used the language outside of a classroom setting. It wasn’t rusty, it was next to non-existent. Cycle training: the New England winter with its icy roads and frequent snowfalls demanded that cycle training start indoors, in January, on a stationary set-up. By mid-March enough ice was off the road to move outside.

White horse in the Camargue

In planning I read journals posted on Trento and Crazy Guy on a Bike. For a specific route I relied on Michelin 300 series (Local) maps, and referred to Google Earth. This would be essentially a visit to several very famous, old cities, linked together by rides through the countryside. I wanted to visit Avignon, Orange, Aix-en-Provence, Arles, the Camargue and the Mediterranean coast. Catherine, a friend here in the Berkshires, grew up in Toulouse. Her description of the city, along with cycling journals of the Canal-du-Midi, led me to finish the trip in Toulouse. This was a good decision, but it meant less cycling in the Luberon, and missing Nîmes, Narbonne and other places I’d love to see someday. Another trip.

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1| Prologue

 As a schoolgirl, I spoke pretty good schoolgirl French, and from the age of 8 dreamed of visiting France. In 2009, I turned 60 and decided to go … for the first time. Call me level-headed and deliberate if you want, but life intervened.

I convinced my husband, Roy, planned a route in southern France, starting in Provence at Avignon, riding through the Languedoc to Toulouse:  Avignon, Orange, Apt, Aix-en-Provence, Arles, Sète, Béziers, Carcassonne, Toulouse: about 500 generally very flat miles. In late May 2009 we spent two weeks on the bike, staying in hotels and chambre d’hôtes (bed and breakfasts,) followed by a week in Paris.

Before leaving, I crammed the French language into my head. Every day I stuffed more in. And trained on the bike. I had a fabulous, wonderful, time … loved France, loved the bicycling, got by on my very poor language skills thanks to the kindness of strangers. Never believe that the French are rude. My husband had an OK time, good even, he says. This year, 2010, he decided to stay home and I decided to return to France, this time solo, appreciative of his  encouragement and support, and drawn to the possibilities of solo travel. (My first solo cycling trip was in 2008 when I rode around Lake Champlain, from Vermont up into Canada, that time also staying in bed & breakfasts, and had a blast. But it was essentially my backyard, since I live barely 100 miles south, in Massachusetts.)

Last year in France, two of the following three things would have made an even better trip: stronger language skills, a tent, or more money. More money would have removed the sometimes stressful need to find available rooms in low-cost lodgings, which always seemed to fill first, but more money is not an option. Anyway, a good part of what I hoped solo travel would offer is more opportunity to meet other travelers, particularly other cyclists, and hotels minimize human contact. So, I spent the year since the last trip improving my language skills and my cycling skills, and bought a sweet super-light solo tent, sized perfectly for me. I also bought, at the last probable minute, a terrific bike, better suited to loaded touring and climbing hills. I say probable minute, because really, it probably isn’t very sensible to buy a new bike immediately before a trip. And bought a second set of panniers.

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