Today was a tough one, mainly because I spent hours in the searing heat, essentially going nowhere with my nerves frayed and absolutely shattered by the end of it all. But I did eat a whole banana, which is an actual first for me. Sounds unbelievable, but it is true.
Packed up all my gear and on the road by 6.45, although it is still taking me a couple of hours and I am conscious of the noise that I make at such an early hour. I had preloaded the route from Calais to Besançon onto my Wahoo Sat Nav before I left, but it had never worked for the entirety of my journey thus far. However as I set off in the general direction of the medieval town of Ardres for breakfast & supplies, I heard the familiar high pitched beep as it sparked into life. Never had I been so happy to hear that sound and to see the familiar blue and green flashing lights dance along its top. The sunrise was magnificent and all was well with the world.
Whilst I was happily careering along the D231 to Ardres, the Sat Nav directed me off onto a smaller and more picturesque route about 5 minutes away from the centre of town. I thought, why not; the weather was perfect, I was feeling good and I’m here to enjoy scenery and embrace nature in all its glorious forms and it would presumably bring me to Ardres eventually.
Well that eventually took another hour and whilst it was nice to be in the countryside amongst fields of potatoes in bloom (which are rather lovely, in fact), the roads were largely unsurfaced, muddy in parts and with a lot of potholes which was not doing my bike and it's tyres any favours. On top of that the landscape was unremarkable, consisting largely of acres of flat fields; I could easily have been at home in the Leicestershire countryside or indeed any non-descript piece of arable farmland. Let me reiterate, one hour before I got back to Ardres, when I had originally only been less than 5 minutes away on the smooth D road, which had been completely empty of traffic. Still, some lovely flower arrangements on the way.
No problem, just need to find a café and croissant, take time, chill – enjoy being in France and on my bike. Except there were no cafés in Ardres. I know this to be true because it is a small place and I looked.
I stopped off by a school where kids were all piling in for the day and spoke to one of the teachers, asking where to find a supermarket. It felt great to use my French, which was all there in the back of my head like a loaded spring, just waiting for the opportunity to spring forth.
Off to Auchan I went and stocked up on all sorts of good healthy and nutritious food. It was here that I would have been so happy to have my tiny teeny but hugely expandable rucksackini, as recommended by Barry. Except I couldn’t find it in my panniers and pretty sure that it had escaped from my handlebar bag whilst at the ferry when hunting around for my passport. Even more annoying as I do not have any spare room in my panniers to store so much as a slice of jambon or wafer-thin piece of comté.
Thank goodness for my cargo net, without doubt one of the most useful, practical and indeed essential pieces of kit I had purchased. Yes, the top notch Ortleib panniers and handlebar bags, the frame bags, compression sacs, superb quality MSR tent and all of the other expensive kit I had purchased was invaluable, but oh that cargo net. It cost all of £6.99 and, consisted of a square mesh of elasticated high tenacity polypropylene twine with clips at each corner that fitted over the back of my panniers and dry bag but it was honestly one of the best things I have ever purchased. You could shove all manner of things in there and I never lost a single item once it had been lodged within its secure grasp.
If there is one thing I will never forget, it was my cargo net.
Of course, one way to get rid of some of the supplies was to eat them. I cycled back to where I remember a rather lovely tree lined road with benches, the kind of thing the French do really well. there was a cemetery on one side which was very peaceful as I sat down to gorge on fruit, carbs and chocolate. And it was here I decided to finally do it, to go ahead and eat an entire banana, from one end to the other.
It’s not that I have never eaten banana and I don’t mind the taste. But it’s the consistency that makes me wretch. One stray slice in a trifle or fruit salad is manageable, but I have never made it through an entire one. However, I am a big boy now and I need to ensure I am eating the very best healthy diet I can on the road and let's face it, I am on my own and need to look after myself here. I decided to set up the camera to record my attempt, which made for very uncomfortable viewing and not to be shared, I think.
I started off alright, the fist couple of mouthfuls aided in their mastication by thoughts of pretty, lovely things but ¾ the way down, there was no escaping that revolting mushy, gooey texture. I did finish it, but it wasn’t pretty and involved a lot of gagging. In fact, I was quite exhausted by the whole event which was positively emotional. I ‘phoned Augusto to celebrate this new but unrepeatable first.
But I had had a good, healthy and hearty breakfast and so off I went, following the route on my Wahoo Sat Nav. All the way back to where I started my detour and for the next 2 hours, I followed the scenic route of rolling fields, pretty church spires, unpaved roads with gravel and mud, ascending and descending never-ending hills. On top of this the heat was becoming unbearable to nuclear roasting and I was getting through gallons of water and not a lot of corner shops or taps to refill from.
At the top of one particularly arduous climb, I decided enough was enough so I found the nearest campsite on google and booked it. It took a further hour or so to get there using only main roads and I limped in to the main reception with moments to spare before the manager closed for lunch.
I devoured two cans of ice-cold coke within seconds whilst he completed the paperwork and I asked him to add them to the bill. He didn’t accept cards but luckily, I had just about enough shrapnel to pay. He then gave me a token required to operate the showers, which I promptly dropped and couldn’t find in the sandy gravel, but after chatting a while and telling him about my journey thus far and where I intended travelling to, he not only replaced the token, but offered me the cokes and taught me a brand-new word, périple which roughly translates as a long and often difficult journey. It’s the small things that make all the difference when you are in shreds.
The kindness of strangers continued once I had located the pitch for my tent. Once it was up, I lay down in the shadowless face-melting heat of the midday sun. Apart from the shower block, there was honestly nowhere for me to go to get any shade, but at least if I didn’t move, I could at least rest.
The pitch to the right of me contained a camper van which was home to a couple of itinerant arborists. I am not sure where they were from in France and their accent was so strong that it was hard to make out a single word they said. At first they kept laughing at pretty much everything I said, but not in a good way. I couldn’t catch their names and really didn’t care either. But after disappearing inside their van for lunch, they came out with an electric floor fan which they tried to rig up to a nearby electric point so that I could at least get some breeze. Flex wasn’t long enough, but a much appreciated gesture nonetheless.
Likewise the owner of a mobile home opposite me brought over a coffee, although a freezing cold jug of water with hundreds of ice cubes bobbing about and a slice of lemon floating in, would have been preferable. She told me to take a chair off her balcony so I at least had somewhere to sit whilst I left my power pack with her to fully charge. Turns out that she was retired and lived in Ardres during the winter and in her mobile home during the summer.
Eventually the sun went down and I looked around. The campsite seemed like a bit of a dump, but the residents, and some of them seemed to be there for the long term, made up for the low quality facilities. Yes there was a lake, but
I looked at the map and realised that I was only 46KM from last nights campsite. 46KM! I was shattered, battered and completely knackered from the longest and most pointless detour ever. Note to self from now on, keep to the main roads, avoid the lumpy bumpy scenic routes and always search out roads with decent road surfaces. I’ve a long way to go and I am sure I will see many wonderful things; I just don’t need to see all of them.
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