Camping Bagatelle, Avignon (day 2)

And breathe. The events of the last few days had been draining. This morning Angela took her first shower since her accident. Once again piped music filled the sanitaires. Disco this time. The cleaning staff singing songs as they worked. Angela could barely manoeuvre her towel over her body, let alone 'get down on it', as the words of the song suggested. Now we were safely settled in Avignon she had time to reflect. Upon her insistence we continued cycling. She didn't want the accident to make her frightened to cycle. The claims company acting for Saga insurance telephoned. Frederick, a very nice Frenchman wanted a copy of the hospital medical report and Angela's UK health card. He was appalled that they dismissed the fact she was in possession of the card and refused to look at it. Photos of her injuries were also sent. Not happy with the way she had been treated he was going to telephone the hospital. They would not fob him off, he spoke their language. The patched up and now push off attitude had made him furious. After advising Angela on what she must do when the time came for her stitches to be removed he promised to telephone again early next Tuesday afternoon to see how it was going. Twice he asked if we would like him to arrange transportation to return us to England. As lovely as our little cabin is this morning we found ourselves bumbling about. Our daily routine has gone to pot.

(John's Algerian street food) 

We wearily a walked across the bridge into town to buy lunch, then this afternoon sat in the cabin and read, dozing for a while, as the rain fell quite heavily at four for over an hour.

The inclement weather meant the street food truck opposite the campsite didn't open this evening, so once again we walked into town, bought frozen paella to cook which we enjoyed very much.

We have also booked to stay a third night, so will now continue cycling on Friday. Yesterday evening in Avignon had been both special and beautiful. What a difference a day makes. This evening still warm, but miserably wet. Mount Ventoux in the distance so clearly visible yesterday lost in the low cloud. Once again we don't envy the cyclists in their small tents.

Camping Bagatelle, Avignon

Angela had a better night. But her body was complaining. She ached, her left wrist and hand were very swollen and she was annoyed about the accident. It was decided we should cycle to the next town and catch a train to Avignon. But first after asking twice, a swiss couple in a motorhome insisted we allow them to make us coffee before we left. We talked with them a while and eventually didn't leave until after eleven. We made slow progress, Angela nervous, the shock of the accident starting to show.

At a viewpoint a Nepalese man and his friend asked if we would take a photograph of them with the stunning view in the background. That's one of the nice things about cycling, you never know who'll you're meet along the way. The train to Avignon left a few minutes before we reached the town.

But we didn't mind. We found a shady spot, ate lunch and rested.

The two hours wait passed quickly and whilst on the train we hoped we wouldn't be missing some great cycling. Forty minutes later, (two days cycling for us) we found ourselves right in the centre of the beautiful walled town of Avignon.

And now with the rain due to return for the next two days, we've secured ourselves a nice little 'Coco Sweet ' for two nights.

Rest and recuperation hopefully will settle Angela.

A walk out this evening, pizza with a beautiful view, and a good bottle of red was a good start. Across from us on the campsite are some cyclists. It feels a little strange not to be camped alongside them.

Camping Le Moulinas, Chateauneuf-du-Rhone

During the night the thunderstorms could be heard rolling around the mountains. At seven-thirty this morning one arrived right over the campsite. Great. We packed up as much as we could inside the tent whilst outside the young tough German girls 'just got on with it'. Eventually the weather settled and we venture outside, made coffee and finished packing. Angela hadn't had a good night, more of her body ached, particularly the thumb on her left hand (not the one she'd had x-rayed) which was like nagging toothache. She wouldn't be held back though. And so our cycling day began, the threatening rain clouds never far away.

First stop the next town to sort out Angela's prescription from the hospital. No thank you she didn't want the codeine. Pressure bandages, dressings and, oh no not iodine! Just a small, but expensive bottle. Her pharmacy bill 49 euros. Paperwork for saga insurance please. God knows how much Angela had racked up yesterday. Ambulances, hospitals and doctors. Leaving town the weather closed in. We stopped to put on our rain jackets, and then the sky emptied. The nearby tree we sheltered under couldn't save us. We were well and truly soaked. People have said, we are on an adventure, more like a test of endurance. When you're cycling there is no choice. You just have to get on with it.

The weather improved and we carried on enjoying the scenery, but for Angela not the wobbly suspension bridge just before Montelimar.

She was tired, we cycled around thirty miles and her body ached. Hallucinating, or so she thought, she saw a man cycling towards her in natural coloured lycra. Or so she thought. Did that man have a saucisson hanging over the front of his saddle? John confirmed, yes the man was cycling totally naked! As you do. Eventually we reached a campsite. Natural camping on the farm. We were greeted warmly, charged a mere 12 euros, given an iced cold bottle of water. By now we'd cycled around thirty five miles. Angela was done in.

Camping Les Deux Rives, Charmes sur Rhone

Today should be a good day. Up as the sun rose only the annoying warblings of Amy Winehouse being piped around the sanitaires irritated Angela. She liked to spend the first fifteen minutes of her day peacefully, not being told by Amy she should have gone to rehab. It was just a half bottle of Bordeaux Amy!

A large Brocante market was taking place down by the river. No doubt the best buys already bought by the early treasure hunters. Probably on ebay or on resale in another Brocante by now. We felt fresh from taking a rest day. After the first two miles despite a headwind our legs dropped into a steady rhythm. We had around thirty miles to cycle, passing through the large town of Valence on the way.

The route took us through a market in Valence, the smell of roasting chickens wafted in the air. We stopped to look at and smell the food cooking on a Vietnamese stall. The cycle through the town was a nightmare and we were glad when we'd passed through it. And then it all went very badly wrong. John was cycling a little way ahead as he likes to take down hill sections as fast as he can, Angela more cautious these days took her time. A shout from behind in French that a cyclist was behind prompted Angela to move to the right as is correct. The French cyclists impatient overtook her on the wrong side. It didn't end well for Angela. Long story short, paramedics were called, a lady cyclists asked for a description of John so she could cycle on to fetch him back.

Serious injury to her left hand and face and an even more serious head injury resulted in her being loaded into the ambulance. Our worst nightmare! John was left with the sauf pompiers of which three vehicles had attended. Angela suggested he ask the group of gathered French to help him with translation. Which hospital and who would help with the bikes. He received no help with the bikes, and tried to wheel them off the cycleway to the other side of the bridge. A kindly Frenchman came to help him. As luck would have it an Amazon delivery driver had stopped for a smoke and the Frenchman asked for his assistance. Bikes and John loaded he took John to the hospital around ten minutes away. Angela was sure he'd enjoyed a more comfortable ride than her. She been drive at a fast rate, blue light and sirens. A French hospital is not like a British NHS one. It was stark. I.D. please. Remove rings off fingers because of swelling. X-ray on wrist. Wait will be around two hours. Well it was lunchtime. Eventually she was doused in stinging iodine, her forehead aneathesised and sutures begin before the anesthetic took. Then more iodine just to be sure she was in maximum pain. The doctor laughed, stunk of garlic and bumbled about. Angela's grasp of the French language does not stretch to medical talk, so she felt a little vulnerable. Issued with a prescription for pain relief and instructions that the stitches should be removed in ten days time she sat and waited to be discharged. The doctor was now fast asleep in his chair. She took it upon herself to leave. No the x-ray must be checked. Nothing broken, compression bandage prescribed. The bill would be posted to her home address. She presented her British medical card as instructed by saga insurance No the invoice would be sent from the medical office.

Another problem no doubt to deal with. John wanted them to take a train to Avignon, but Angela just wanted to cycle the ten miles to the next campsite. She was shaken by the accident and just felt she should ride her bike. Tonight's campsite is one of the worst ever. The sanitaires are clean but very dated. Saying that plenty of people arrived for the night. There are seven cyclists tents, motorhomes, vans and caravans. Hopefully tomorrow Angela won't ache too much. She looks like she's been in the wars, her face not too pretty. Perhaps she should have gone rehab today instead as Amy suggested!

Camping Le Rhone, Tournon sur Rhone (day 2)

The noise of four girls talking loudly on the balcony of one of the adjacent flats woke us and the German couple at 2 am. Thanks! What the other flat owners must have thought, who knows. The rude awakening prompted a need to visit the sanitaire. Upon our return a few drops of rain tapped on the tent. It was so warm we hoped there wouldn't be a storm. Just after six the Germans were up, even though it was still dark. Angela felt weary. We have been cycling for seventeen days now without a break. Heavy rain was forecast for the whole day, and the thought of cycling in it was too much. She just wasn't feeling it. So we decided to stay put and take a rest day. We have our own covered seating area next to the tent and there is another larger covered area by the reception. We'd be mad to move on. The weather forecast turned out to be incorrect.

The sun shone and we walked out over the pedestrian bridge to Tain-L'Hermitage where we bought fruit from one of the market stalls. The local table grapes were delicious, juicy and sweet. Back in Tournon-sur-Rhone we couldn't resist buying a small roast chicken and garlic potatoes roasted in the chicken fat that dripped from the rotisserie.

Cycling food folks. Anything goes. No slimfast going on here! For John a visit to France isn't complete without this delicacy. The roast chicken, not the slimfast! A walk on to the tourist office to pick up a map for our next stage of cycling, we stopped by at the church. Inside a beautiful stained glass window was lit by the sunlight. But the musty smell was unpleasant. We like to think our roast chicken and garlic potatoes left behind a pleasant aroma. The Viking cruise boat was still here awaiting new arrivals. As we walked by the next influx of excited passengers arrived, a fleet of coaches pulling up right beside the gang plank. The day passed quickly. The campsite once again full. We have washed clothes and generally pottered about. We have three new cycling neighbours, the two German ladies behind us are very friendly, the others not so. We are now only a few hundred miles from the Mediterranean.

(showing where we now are at Tournon)

The border of Italy, Spain and Germany not so far away. We must leave early tomorrow as the temperature will be 31c and have 30 - 35 miles to cycle. It is also Sunday, so Angela has had to cycle out to the supermarket on the edge of town for enough food to cover this evening, breakfast for two days, and tomorrow evenings meal which will be eggs, as it always seems to be on a Sunday. In charge of the shopping, she afforded herself a half bottle of Bordeaux. Cheers everyone.