Day sixteen (Tuesday) Chaumont

Cakes: 1 croissant each; 1 pain au chocolat (John); 1 tarte fuites (Hazel); tarte tartin (John); Coffee 1 x each

It was a really great feeling to hear the cycle tourer next door (70 years old if he was a day) packing up his tent at 7am, and to be able to roll over and snooze for another hour. After a well deserved lie in we did some more washing. Washing by hand is something you get really used to on a cycling adventure, although I am pretty sure that sometimes we are just redistributing the dirt more evenly!!

A light breakfast and we headed into Chaumont via a steeply, heavily wooded path that climbed up to .a fort. We clambered around like 10 year olds and had a whale of a time having a look into all the dark cubby holes and grilles around the place.

Next stop was the extraordinary church. Part Gothic and then built on over the centuries, the detail of much of the stonework and wood carving was exquisite. We could also see on the ceiling and some of the pillars faded remnants of the painting that would have decorated the interior. As well as the incredible light, the organist was practising while we walked around, treating us to a musical treat that enhanced the ambience of the experience.

By this point John was starting to talk a lot about coffee and croissant - always a sign! A bit of carbo loading (which included the beautiful tarte fruites I have pictured here), and we then settled down for some serious planning for the final days of our trip. Air BnB was our friend, and we've booked an old artist's apartment with a bay window, a washing machine, and a place to store our bikes. Perfect. We also have a plan for the rest of the route.

Now it's beer o'clock, and time to sign off. Back on the bikes tomorrow, and a biggish day to Saint Dizier.

Day fifteen (Monday) Neufchateau to Chaumont 80km 4 hours 45mins

Cakes: 1 croissant each; 1 pain au chocolat each; 1 tarte limon (John); Coffee 1 x each

Leaving early enough for what was going to be a hot (if slightly cooler) day required almost military precision and planning. What was supposed to be an early night was scuppered by the fact that the temperature didn't really drop until about 2.30am, making for a fitful kip. Panniers were, however, almost packed, washing (done by hand the night before) folded and ready if dry, and all technology was fully charged. Seven in the morning we sprang into action with John making a dash to the nearest patisserie - and the only one that was open - to get bread and pastries to bolster our meagre supplies of two apples and some cheese that had been melted once and formed itself into a nameless lump in the bag (the shops were all closed when we had arrived the day before).

By 7.30, stomachs making noises like wood pigeons, we set off...up the first hill of the day...an approx 5 km climb. Puffing a tad by the time we reached the top we pulled over for a bite to eat in the shade of some trees. Melted and re-solidified cheese and 2-day old apples never tasted so good!!

We rolled on through large fields of corn, barley, wheat and cows (all in separate paddocks mind). It was telling to see the corn, which was blue/green and unripe when we started out taking on the golden tones that mean it will soon be ready to harvest. 

Once we popped onto the first D road of the day (try to avoid A roads where possible when cycling) we hardly saw any traffic, and bowled along with what turned out to be...a following breeze...our first for days. Bliss. After a couple of 10% and 20% climbs we dropped down to a river valley and fair hurtled along - a lovely route with absolutely stunning weather.

Passing one farm I was suddenly transported back to childhood by the pungent smell of cow dung, fresh hay and straw bales, flowers, and summer dust. For the next couple of hours the feeling was powerful with memories of the joy of six days of summer holiday, usually spent with aunties, grannies or other whanau, which meant being outside. The days seemed endless. Much of the time was spent on horseback, as well as helping with chores about the various farms / gardens, or wandering with a dog in the nearest woods clutching a book in one hand and a box with a marmite sandwich in the other. One of my favourite things was helping bring in the hay (when bales were small enough for one small person to lift by themselves at the end of a summer of chores). Everyone who was around helped from the oldest to the youngest. At the end of a long day, covered in hay rash, I would luxuriate in the shared sense of achievement and a big feed well-earned.

My reminiscing was interrupted by lunch in a sublime spot by an old weir. We were also joined by a local chap having his lunch. We made as much conversation you can when both parties only speak a little of each other's language, and he offered to share his bread and water. Lovely guy.

Feeling pleasantly drowsy after lunch, we set off again, for one of the biggest climbs of the day. Whoa - lactic acid. A patch of cool dappled oak and beech forest was a welcome relief, and absolutely gorgeous too. 

More climbing, and descending, and climbing - you get the picture - and we grind into Chaumont following signs for the campsite. Then out of Chaumont (down the hill we had just climbed, still following signs for the campsite), then back up into Chaumont (20% climb), only to then lose signs for the campsite. Not on the happy side we headed for the town centre (another climb). You may have guessed by now that we went up and down the same hill on different sides, three times :-) Ah well.

The campsite is grand and we managed to grab the shadiest tent site with 5 of our own trees.  Chaumont is gorgeous and we have decided to spend tomorrow exploring it. More tomorrow.

Day fourteen (Sunday) Commercy to Neufchateau 52km 3 hours 20 mins

Cakes: 1 croissant each; 1 measly chausson aux pommes...too hot for pastries (never!!!); Coffee 1 x each

With reluctance we left the air conditioned comfort of our little haven in Commercy. Planning is now about putting in the distance before 2pm, which is when everything melts into a puddle, and/or burns to a crisp. We weren't able to get away as early as we hoped as the earliest we could negotiate breakfast was 8.30am. We nevertheless did full justice to the light, crispy, buttery deliciousness that was our criossant, along with oodles of fruit, yoghurt and coffee.

And it was hot! There wasn't a breath of wind, and the first thing we did was puff and sweat our way up a 5 or 6km climb. Holy moley. I thought John would do a Mr exploding Potato head on me he was so red by the time we reached the top. I tried a bit of poulet qui fait du surf.. This is where, when a truck or car comes by you peddle as hard as you can to make the most of the bubble of still air that follows the vehicle, which gives you aa real boost of speed. Very much like surfing a wave (board or kayak) the trick is to get the timing and speed right to revel in those few moments of assisted  forward momentum.

The view, however, was, as always fabulous with arable fields stretching away as far as the eye could see, with 'clouds' of forest framing them, and spires of churches at intervals to mark the tiny villages. Glorious.

While grinding my way up the hill I realised that the sludge of tiredness that had been clogging my brain and creativity for the last...O, I don't know...year or more...had started to wash away. As well as all the sites, smells, and sounds that have been feeding my brain, remembering and expanding on my (pitiful, but getting a little better) French is making me really have to think. Loving it. So, as we started the climb an idea for a day-long session that I will be facilitating with the lovely Karen Melhuish Spencer (email to follow, Karen :D), started to form. By the top of the hill I had an outline for at least the first half of the day. Loads of other ideas and thoughts hurtling around too. However, from anecdotal evidence based on a sample of 3, the duration of the vacation matters. A minimum of 3 weeks is required - 1 to relax, sleep, another to get over the grumps and let go of stresses, and then the 3rd to really enjoy and renew.

On the descent the clouds started to come in and we revelled in 15km of coolish  cycling. Toward the end of this brief sojourn from being baked,, we swept into the birthplace of Jeanne D'Arc - Domrémy. We took a bit of a look around, and were particularly impressed by the reconstruction of her house, using techniques, tools and materials based on the originals.

While on our stroll around the grounds the sun came out again, and, after a quick lunch of baguette, cheese and apples, we off we set on the final 10km. There were a couple of avenues of shady trees, but otherwise it was cycling under the relentless sun, looking at tempting sites as we sped by to help ensure we didn't turn into raisins.

Neufchateau, after climbing the final hill (fun and games) was very welcome. Another hotel (a tent seems a bit suicidal) - but this time with no air conditioning. Ah well. We're just about off out in search of iced drinks. Promises to be cooler tomorrow - fingers crossed.

Day thirteen (Saturday) Commercy - Day off cycling

Cakes: 1 croissant each; 1 pain au chocolat shared; 1 tarte fraise (Hazel), one ecalire vanille (John); Coffee 2 x each

Tired legs in the morning suggested that we had made the correct decision to take a day off. Commercy, somewhere we knew little about, delivered big. It's a town full of history, restored (and very old buildings), and some delightful spots by the river. Les chats are also very friendly (and numerous), although in the heat, most are draped on various surfaces asleep.

Very short report from le poulet glace as John has written some fabulous bits below.

John's bit
Currently settled in a nice little hotel in Commercy taking a well deserved day of rest. It is not your usual tourist destination but was once the exile home of Stanislas (Stanislaw) following the War of the Polish Succession. Like most of Lorraine and surrounding areas it was rebuilt after the wars but there is still a medieval feel to it in places. There is also a bit of Art Nouveau to be found here, most notably a chemists with beautiful wooden paneling and stained glass.

Temperatures remain thermostat poppingly high at over 40c by mid afternoon. Cycling has to start early and be over by 2pm at the lastest. I had thought my desert training in Dubai would help, but cycling in the blistering heat is a far different activity to hopping from a chilled house into a chilled car in order to visit a shopping mall with a ski slope and resident penguins. I wonder how the Tour de France will do when it gets here.

On the road to Commercy we saw another baguette dispenser being loaded with crusty loaves. I am looking forward to seeing (and using) my first pain au chocolat dispenser. Along the way I have also noted the large number of hairdressers in rural France. They are everywhere. There are more Chez Le Coiffeur than boulangeries and patisseries combined. But while the latter are full for the few hours they are open, the hairdressers appear open all day yet empty. There are aspects of the culture that the casual tourist will never understand.

Tomorrow (Sunday) is an early start to get us to Neufchateau and finish our trip along the River Meuse before we start heading West towards Paris. It has been an interesting opportunity to get to grips with some WW1 history and a surprise to see how much impact that this war still has on the people here. After reading of the horrors, and imagining that it was far worse than can ever be told, I can begin to understand how the impact could be felt across generations and centuries.

On a cheerier note, we are off to watch some dance tonight after a meal in the gentle evening sun at a street side cafe. For me, this is all but perfect.

Highlight of the day: Stopping in a tiny village in the shade of an old house to read the map and being offered fresh cold water by the owner, puzzled by our journey and concerned for our welfare.

Day twelve (Friday) Verdun to Commercy 55 km 3 hours 45 mins

Cakes: 1 croissant each; 1 pain au chocolat shared; 1 chausson aux pommes shared; Coffee 1 x each

 

One thing I hadn't been clearly cognizant of was the devastation that the First World War wrought on France. Verdun helped bring that home. Those buildings that survived the 10 month battle have bullet holes and gouges in the walls. Images show men and horses, tattered and surrounded by rubble. The re-build is obvious everywhere you look, and what it's difficult to imagine is the human story behind that rebuild. Nearly every village through which we've cycled has a war memorial to folks lost in the war, and each will have a tale to tell.

 

Before we came away on this trip I had, by chance, read All quiet on the Western Front which is set in France on the whole (I hadn't realised that it had been written from the German point of view, and there are some parts where the main narrator speaks of home and visits his family). The humanity and the universality of some of the themes such as friendships and suffering - as well as the poignant absurdities - really made an impact for me as I read. Some small details stuck with me such as a massive ornate mirror that one of the main narrator's friends (another soldier) loots and carries around with him, unscathed, for weeks. There was another where the  friends load a cart with furniture and works of art onto a cart. They sit atop the unwieldy pile until a shell takes out the cart and some of the men.

 

It was the small details of humanity that for me, highlighted what it may have been like in France, rather than stats such as 100,000 shells being fired per hour, and 1 million deaths. It brings to life the pictures we see on many of the information boards we pass in tiny villages, along with the memorials for lives lost. The images often picture exhausted men, horses and mules standing in a devastated landscape of the broken shells of houses and lives. The endeavour required to renovate and rebuild in the following years has been huge, and, to me, partly captures both the worst and the best of human creativity and motivation.

While mulling on these thoughts as we cycled along, we approached a junction. As we approached a large blue sunshade (the type that folks have on their deck to shade a table), with a white frill caught my eye. The reason that it had caught my eye was that it was moving. An enterprising farmer, not having a tractor with a cab, had strapped the parasol to his tractor, and was happily mowing shaded by its expanse. The combination of problem-solving and rather lovely absurdity is still making me chuckle :-)

As it was another hot day (topping out at 42 degrees), we peddled hard along (mainly) quiet, flat-ish roads - only 3 reasonable climbs today. Our morning tea spot was a shady tree beside an almost deserted sports ground, with only a guy with a watering can, and another with a digger, to be seen. 

All through our cycles there have been some interesting juxtaposition of the rural and industrial, and the old and the new. Today was no exception with, for instance a 16th century church outlined against the backdrop of a quarry. Others include fields of corn with a processing plant in the background, and the odd cheese making factory cheek by jowl with a barn that appears to be made of timber, wattle and daub, and lime plaster!

Sometimes you pass through some fairly heavy industry on the outskirts of a town, and Commercy was one of them. After an unpromising start though, we made our way to our hotel Hotel Cote Jardin (40 Rue de Saint-Mihiel, 55200 Commercy, Tél. : 03 29 92 09 09, bernard.bou794@orange.fr, Monsieur BOU Arnaud). The place is really nicely done out, the patrons really accomodating, and the breakfast delicious. There was a secure place for our bikes - and best of all, air conditioning in our room!

After chilling for a while (literally), we headed out into the delightful town (more to follow tomorrow as we have decided to take a day off to explore better...and make the most of the a/c) - knowing that we were going to sleep well for the first time in a couple of days.

Day eleven (Thursday ) Inor to Verdun 64 km 4 hours 20 mins

Cakes: 1 croissant each; 1 pain au chocolat each;  Coffee 2 x each

So, my nickname while cycling (although I probably shouldn't share this) is le poulet rapido. I am thinking of changing it to le poulet saute. While it may not have the same ring to it, it sure describes how I was feeling yesterday - rapidly cooked to a crisp on a high heat as the temperatures topped 41 degrees!!

We managed to get away at a good hour (8 am on the road and rolling), John nursing over 30 mosquito bites from sleeping with the windows open, in spite of him wearing oodles of insect repellant. I was lucky with only 10-ish bites; John is obviously way sweeter.

The morning was sublime with long shadows and a slight cool-ish breeze, which helped us up the first few hills where my legs were complaining a bit. The road wound through little villages, sometimes with great gothic and Renaissance chateau on the hillsides, often pristine, occasionally boarded up and deserted.

A treat was swinging around the corner in one of the villages to find an Ardennes pony (or maybe an Ardennes cross) grazing in a paddock. We just had to stop and feed her grass over the fence; it would have been rude not to.

As you wend your way through the villages we often see piles of firewood, stacked impeccably. An idle wondering was how long it takes to master the art of stacking (our wood pile looks like a dog's breakfast in comparison), and if there is a wood stacking ecole. I did see a couple working the cutter and splitter; which was a rusty contraption. The idea is to feed length of wood into it to cut them to precisely the same length. Alternatively, with fatter logs, a blade cuts the wood into sections, and the trick is to ensure that your hands are not similarly chopped. I suspect we'll be sticking to our trusty sledge hammer and wedges at home, and turn a blind eye to the mess the wood pile is in, happy with that fact that our arms and hands are intact, even if our backs are sore.

After the villages we were back on the open road where the wind had picked up and it was a bit like I imagine it would be cycling in a fan-assisted oven, We did find a relatively shady spot for lunch, with a bonus stream for feet dipping. The bliss of cold feet for a few minutes (and I think I would ever say that!

We  arrived in Verdun drooping with the heat and instantly found shade and a Tabac that sold cold smoothies - bliss. Then, using wonderful technology, we found a place to stay  having decided that camping just wasn't going to work as we watched the temperature go up to 41 degrees. Salad and cold beer were the order of the day for dinner, then 3 showers (cold) and sleep. Early start again tomorrow.

Day ten (Wednesday) Charlesville Mezieres to Inor 68.84km 4 hours 43 mins

As well as 9 litres of water...yes, 9 litres - Cakes: 1 croissant each; 1 pain au chocolat each; 1 chausson aux pommes; Coffee 2 x each

It was stinkingly hot today...35 degrees plus. O boy. The cycling was still stunning, but it was  so very hot. This was exacerbated by two things. This morning was the morning we chose to have a small barney at each other (par for the course when cycling with someone for any length of distance; conducted in theatrical whispers and muted growling tones as on a campsite there is nowhere to have a really vocal download). The second minor one was that John had lost his cycling gloves yesterday, necessitating a trip into town to buy a new pair. The upshot is that we weren't properly on the road until 11.00 this morning, for one of our longest days to date, and on one of the hottest days of the year in France so far.

 

So, this evening I am going to keep it short and sweet as I am so in need of some sleep. We followed the train tracks for the first part of today, reiterating for me that train tracks and their surrounds are much the same the world over. In particular the wide swathe of greenery, interspersed by abandoned and crumbling buildings, and dotted with stations every now and then.

 

The tracks were followed by a rather lovely, brand new cycle path that paralleled the path of the Meuse, but then stopped dropping us onto a busy, long, very hot, straight road right into the teeth of the wind. 

 

After a while we pulled over into the shade of a tree, at which point John took one look at me and volunteered to head off into the village in search of water and pastries.

 

Reasonably resuscitated we then headed up the hills - and they were pretty gruelling. The highlights were cycling up through a green and burgeoning forest (sheer heaven), and then getting to the top, which rewarded us with some inspirational views. The bad news was that we still had 25km to go (very long, and with more hills).

We made it, just, at 6pm. Water, beer, and pizza is now proving to be the 'nectar of the gods'!! So, now it's off to sleep, as the day begins to cool.

 

John's Bit.

Also short and sweet.  Highlight of the day, arriving at a campsite that only sells beer and pizza!  Really, what more do you need!  Also just watched the full moon rise, big enough to reach out to and touch.