Camping Le Rhone, Tournon sur Rhone

We were up at sunrise. High on the hill the orange street lights still glowed. The night has been warm and although we were tired and glad to be back in our tent our sleep was disturbed. As the light of the early morning sun crept across it lit the rows of grapevines that looked like neat green knitting. The other cyclists slowly emerged and the morning ritual of packing, tent drying and breakfasting began. One of the cyclists, a single lady who had seemed reluctant to speak to anyone yesterday spoke to John. She was American, living in Warminster, Wiltshire. She knew Andover where Angela was from and asked if we knew Whitchurch nearby. Small world. She'd flown out with her bicycle from Bristol to Geneva and was cycling to Toulouse to fly back to Bristol. All of us on journeys, all with different destinations.

The ride this morning had some uninteresting parts, passing lots of industry and power stations, though there were still some highlights. The path began to climb and at one point after slogging up a steep zig zagged incline we just had to dismount and walk. It was just too steep. Not for the lithe young things who flew by with minimal luggage. Obviously staying at a Airbnb's or chambre'dhotes with just some toiletries a change of clothes and a gstring onboard. It was once again hot, 27c, but we had a keen headwind which both annoyed us and cooled us. Dismissing the campsite recommended to us by the Dutch lady yesterday we pushed onto Tournon where luckily there was just one cycle camping space left.

The German couple from last night were already here. The town is lovely. We afforded ourselves time to walk out this evening.

A Viking river cruise boat was moored up, Angela keen to book on. Behind it a large barge advertising "bed & bike' at 149 euros per couple. 

We have cycled around thirty-five miles today. The site here is nice and unlike last night there are no signs saying 'please do not steal the toilet paper, it is for the use of everybody'. Leave out four rolls of luxury soft toilet rolls when there's cyclists around is a mistake. The temptation is just too much! There were only two left this morning.

Camping L'ile des Pecheurs, Condrieu

This morning the river was shrouded in a swirling mist. Trees of ochre, yellow and red signaled the start of autumn. We were glad to pack up and leave, two nights roughing it were enough. As we cycled away from the town the early morning sun dispersed the damp blanket that covered everything.

Reflections appeared on the river as the day awoke. Our tired legs knew the drill and pumped up and down turning the cranks that in turn spun the wheels. At the next large town a much needed coffee stop and purchase of filled baguettes for lunch. A decision was made that we would cycle no further and instead catch the train here, the station only half a mile away. Tickets booked online, with a change at Lyon we were on the next train. Lyon station was busy but we had nearly half an hour to change and found our platform easily. The train already waiting boarding would be easy and relaxed. Or so we presumed. No. A couple with huge electric bikes (resembling motorbikes) with a trailer and numerous pannier bags struggled to board the train. 'No more trains', said the wife. We were only going to the next stop ten minutes away so waited for them to sort themselves out and then wheeled on our bicycles leaving them by the exit doors. The ticket inspector looked on. Exasperated he left us all to it. Bikes are one thing, but trailers another. They are not allowed on trains normally. With the electric bike becoming so popular we wonder what the train operators have planned for the future to accommodate them. John's hoping they're be a ban.

We arrived at Vienne at lunchtime. A visit to the tourist office to collect the map for the Via Rhona cycle route before lunch. We are now in the Rhone-Alps region of France.

The scenery is stunning. It has taken us two weeks to cycle here and we feel like we've entered another country. Whilst waiting for the campsite to reopen after lunch we spoke with a dutch lady also waiting. The campsites in the area are closing this weekend so tomorrow we will need to make some plans. Tonight though we have the company of seven other cyclists. We presume they were all treated to the same officious welcome as we were. Standing line. Listen to this information. Enter the site by one gate, leave by another. Gate is locked at 8 pm. Communal tent with fridge and microwave not to be slept in if it rains. What? The Dutch lady stated if it rains I'm in there! Oh, and that'll be 27 euros for you two. No passport or I.D. needed. Why, it's the ruling here. John joked about cash in the pocket. Mistake, that upset the woman. We know how it works though from our time on the Atlantic coast earlier in the year. She's probably well worried now she's seen John photographing the entrance to the campsite. We are now in wine country. Grapevines are everywhere, even alongside the cycle path so forager John is in his element. Personally Angela prefers her grapes fermented and bottled;-)

Camping Kanopee Village, Trevoux

Last night we ended bunking up with the Germans in the dishwashing room as the Chinese lady became made it quite clear she would carry on washing and drying her clothes for as long as she wanted. The lighting in our room was operated by a motion sensor and the Germans thought they had knocked them out by covering them. But they hadn't, every time one of us moved the lights came on. All in all we didn't sleep that badly. Compared to a night in a reclining seat on the car ferry it was luxurious. The second storm did not materialize during the night, but we felt safer being inside after large sections of trees fell during the earlier storm. The caravan and motorhome owners all looked very nervous.

A stop at the tourist office and then morning coffee at a cafe before setting off. A few spots of rain fell and we quickly put on all our wet weather gear, but the rain soon eased and we cycled many miles easily. We hadn't realized just how slow we'd been cycling in the heat. By lunchtime, eating in a dry spot under a tree we wondered why we'd complained about the heat as the rain fell in sheets bouncing of the surface of the river Saone. Miserable. And from then on it became worse. Closed campsites, more heavy rain and tiredness. How much further? As we approached  Trevoux the swiss riverboat cruiser we'd seen yesterday was just waiting to berth.

Through the large glass windows we could see onto the cabins. Unmade beds, clothes strewn everywhere a lady in her bra. Cover yourself up madam for goodness sake. At the campsite we tried to book a cabin as the thought of another night of heavy rain was just too much. But they only had one left at 120 euros, we could have it for 80 euros. Too much. Angela offered sixty but was declined. We could however pay for a pitch and stay the night in the very large marquee.

Here we go again! So here we are, just us, no Germans, they'd opted to take a train south to the Ardeche region. Tomorrow we will cycle to Lyon and catch a train 15 miles to Vienne to avoid cycling on some very busy dangerous dual carriageway. We've been told the weather will be fine. Good, we just want to get back to sleeping in our own tent.

Camping Municipal de Macon

The day started well. The path tarmac made for easy cycling mile after mile. But it was still very hot. Our feet ached, hands ached, one of us had a sore bottom but we both had determination and with only thirty miles to cycle to Macon we went for it.

A large live aboard barge named Sandra sat low in the water, a Pine Marten, our first ever sighting sat on the path scuttling into the hedgerow at the sound of our voices. Overhead two ospreys chased away an annoying seagull. We had never seen Ospreys before either.

We stopped at the pretty medieval riverside town of Tournus where a large swiss river cruise boat was moored. Angela fancies taking a river cruise in Europe when she's older, much older. She's not so sure it would appeal to John though. After four hours of cycling we arrived at tonight's campsite. Rain was forecast later but is was still sunny and hot so we washed some clothes. Then everything went pear shaped.

A violent thunderstorm arrived bringing down large branches from the trees and the rain fell heavily. We hadn't erected our tent and made a decision to bail out and spend the night in an Airbnb. This particular one being the campsite laundry room.

A man with his son arrived mid storm and after erecting their tents decided to join us inside. They are next door in the washing up room. We think we've chosen the short straw as a Chinese family have decided to do a huge wash and the put into the dryer. They are on their second load so far and there will be another lot of drying. Never a dull moment on these cycling trips.

Castle Camping Chateau de L'Eperviere, Gigny - sur - Saone

It was hard to rise this morning. We were tired and our complaining bodies feared another long cycle today. We didn't rush. 

Drying off the condensation on the tent, then stopping in the town at the tourist office before moving to a nearby cafe for strong coffee whilst we talked with three French ladies. Baguette, cheese and fruit bought our cycling day began. Before we left the campsite our French cycling companions who we'd camped with the last three nights wished us a safe onward journey. They were finishing their trip at Chalon-sur-Saone where their car awaited them.

We were cycling there as well to stop at the Decathlon store to buy John an inner tube before taking the cycle route alongside the river Saone. Once again we suffered in the heat. The cycle path, a rutted track across a field and through trees played havoc with Angela's knee. The ground baked hard by the sun jarred every bone in our bodies. Be under no illusion that cycling in France is like the pictures on holiday information. No wearing of berets and striped shirts with a string of onions around your neck and a smile from ear to ear. Today moral dipped, the daily heat was just too much, the route badly signed and virtually impossible to cycle. Where were we?

Lost in France somewhere! Then, the five star castels camping site chateau de L'Eperviere appeared through the trees.

What a campsite, fishing lake, restaurant, swimming pool, wine tasting, huge pitches and a fantastic sanitaire and all at a very reasonable price. It was a shame we hadn't been able to arrive earlier. A covering of cloud points towards a more comfortable night. Rain is forecast tomorrow afternoon so we must away early to ensure we arrive at our next campsite just after lunch.

Camping du Paquier Fane, Chagny

Oh my God we've just cycled sixty hard miles in intense heat.

Leaving at eight-thirty to once again clock up some miles before lunch we knew today we would have to dig deep.

The French couple next to us left at eight heading to the same campsite. They arrived about forty-five minutes before us. Electric bikes, forget them, we've developed a powerful set of legs each which kept us going all day despite painful knees to accompany our sore behinds. We left with eight and a half litres of fluid to be sure we stayed hydrated. Excess weight we could have done with out, but at the same time a necessity. Today being Sunday meant the shops would be closed which is why we have just eaten a baguette baked several times by the sun, overripe tomatoes Angela has been carrying for two days, a tin of mackerel in mustard sauce, two tubs of fruit cocktail and the remains of a tube of Pringles. Tasty, not. But we needed calories, so it was a case of rummaging in the bottom of our pannier bags amongst our emergency food. However we did enjoy a rather nice filled baguette sat outside a cafe in a pretty canalside town at lunchtime. One more day of this intense heat and we're due sunshine and showers. We will soon leave the euro velo 6 cycle route and head south to the Mediterranean. Let's hope our legs have a few more miles in them yet.

Camping La Chevrette, Digoin

Before we begin, just wanted to tell you all this is our 550th blog. Whether you've been following us from the beginning or have just stumbled across us, thanks for reading. Here's to another 550!

We were first away this morning, up just as the sun rose. We had to beat the heat. It was starting to become a problem. As we trundled along a quiet country road the fresh morning air flowed over our bodies. A herd of Charolais turned to stare at us. Their calves unerved by the brightness of our high viz waistcoats hid behind their mothers. The trees that lined the roadside cast welcome shadows. But all was to change once we reached the canal. As always the sun was on us, the shade on the opposite bank. We pedalled at a steady pace keen to bank as many miles as possible before lunchtime. We cycled this path last year and are saddened that we have not been able to socialize with fellow riders night after night as we did then. There seems to be less cyclists on the road this year and many of them are on electric bikes so we're unlikely to catch up with them. Saying that the couple next to us on e-bikes were at last night's campsite. They seemed shocked we were already here when they arrived using just pedal power. No surprise, we didn't follow the official route up over the hills, but cut across by road. We're not letting on. Let them think we're super fit English. And we'd stopped for over two hours at lunchtime. Remember the hare and the tortoise?

The campsite at Digoin is next to a boating lake. Two boats, the blue team and red team jousted from them. We'd never seen the likes of it. Obviously it's a big thing here. Another balmy evening, but we are spoilt by a cooling breeze that blows off the river Loire behind our tent. The downside the mosquitoes are out in force. Yet another night of scratching ahead. Down in the town on the waterfront there is easy listening music being played by an orchestra. Hopefully it will lull us to sleep, or the tempo may be upped around ten and the all to common bassy music of a Saturday night in France will vibrate through our tent. Let's hope not. In the meantime we will enjoy our cold beers (0.0% alcohol Leffe lager on sale in the campsite shop a real treat for John), and listen to the music, at this moment in time a beautiful clarinet solo.