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.

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.