L' Étape Angleterre

Inspiration

My grand plan was to cycle 1,000 miles in one road trip. Luckily I possess the ability to conjure up the motivation, drive and perseverance to see a project through. However, there is a catch. I need an initial spark of something that inspires me and that will drive me on when things get tough and for my planned 1,000 mile bike ride to places yet unknown I was struggling to find that inspiration.

In June 2021 I had embarked on a 630 mile cycle and camping tour from London to North Yorkshire and back on an old bike with a bike trailer attached. That adventure had been something of a test to see if I might enjoy cycling again and it turned out I loved travelling the minor roads and bridleways gaining a new insight into the English countryside. A bike moves at the speed of travel. Fast enough that you can cover ten miles easily to find a café. Slow enough that you see and feel everything as you pass. As Europe appeared to be slowly emerging out of the restrictions imposed by a pandemic, my dream bike ride was to cycle down to the Mediterranean, hooking back to Spain and home via Portsmouth on the ferry from Bilbao. I should make clear at this point that this dream bike ride was born out of very limited research and zero realism. As I started to plan I noticed the ever changing rules for travel in Europe during a pandemic so I decided to change to a France-only trip; a convenient get-out from my earlier ambitions though I somehow stuck with the challenging 1,000 mile target. But what route? What goal? 

With a bewildering number of travelogues, guides, recognised routes and advice in both paper and online formats it can be confusing to know where to start. If I am going to put any amount of effort into a trip it needs to fill me with a sense of purpose. I suppose my research started on that earlier bike ride when I read a book about one man's cycle tour from Scotland to Hong Kong through forest, desert, mountains, tropics and cities. This was something of a cross-over book in that it described the journey in high level terms but also spoke to the practical aspects such as types of bike, terrains and equipment choices. Reading about other people's experiences is a great and more memorable way to pick up tips and advice on how things play out on the ground and for instilling in you that sense of purpose as you grind up the last hill on a long day after tough weeks in the saddle. Another read was a cookery writers culinary tour of France by bike (and train as France is a big country) in search of croissants everywhere and quiche lorraine in, well, Lorraine. If the first book provided good technical advice, the later provided a view of the less technical cyclist going off on an adventure. Cycle tour companies provide packaged solutions to cycle touring and they will sort out the practical details. I'd go the self-contained route and like any cycle tourer the weather, access to food, charging devices, and the next laundry opportunity would be my daily preoccupations. When doing your research it can be hard to know what is important, and what points to remember. Yes there will be many concerns if you are self contained such as bike repairs, finding great food, what to wear to avoid chaffing, your safety, your bike's security but for sure the day to day concerns will be the weather, shelter, food, and laundry.

Having put aside the tour down to Montpelier or Nice, I struggled for inspiration until fate lent a hand in a most unexpected way. Fate never likes to take the obvious course of action. I was staying in Warminister for a few days and was dragged along to a sale of books for charity held in someone's garage. On the walk to the garage sale the rain started so when we arrived I was left decidedly wet and shivering as I browsed the books. In the gloomy garage I picked up a copy of  Patrick Marnham's book, Road to Katmandu, which traces one person's journey from Istanbul to Katmandu on the 1960s hippy trail. But no, that's not the book. At the back of the garage I stumbled upon a copy of "Cook's Traveller's Handbook - Normandy and Brittany". And yes, that is the book. Within five minutes I knew I had found my inspiration. When I walked the Camino Francés my guide book and inspiration was published in 1957 and I rather out did myself as the Cook's guide (yes, that is the Thomas Cook travel company, now known as TUI) was published in 1910. Sat outside the garage drinking wine and eating pizza I announced I would follow the suggested Brittany tour on a bike. The disinterested response at the time was 'Oh, your doing a Michael Portillo then'. So, limited research and zero realism, but I had a plan.

I am pleased to the point of smugness that despite many better offers and temptations I stuck to my 1910 travel guide which, though intended for train and hotel travel, included an itinerary for Brittany listing various must-see towns and cities. And remember, I made that decision in five minutes flicking through the book in front of someone's garage, so zero research. My logic may have been a bit off the mark but I figured that an itinerary that suited our Edwardian forefathers would probably still hold good and would exclude any new - and by new I mean post-war - tourist attractions that would not interest me. Crudely speaking, the itinerary would take me round Brittany in an orderly manner allowing me to  see the cathedrals, architecture, landscapes, and sample food along the way. 

Preparations for the Grand Départ

Let's face it, we all like a new toy, and we often feel obliged to find a justification to fit our chosen extravagance. Which is to say I feel guilty spending money. We know it's a toy and not an essential when we start that justification conversation and luckily there are any number of off-the-peg justifications to choose from. It's an investment. I've worked hard so I deserve a reward. It will pay for itself. It will pay for itself in the long term. I think we've stretched that one far enough. Increasingly, in addition to the financially based reasons for parting with cash, it appears that most things can be justified if it is 'good for the environment' or 'good for your physical and mental health'. My rational, which would admittedly need adjustment later on, was grounded on the hard cold fact that my old 1997 bike was not maintainable. An earlier bike service had revealed that the bottom bracket could not be removed and serviced and it would be hard to find replacement parts should anything fail on a 1,000 mile cycle tour. Sound advice from an expert so who was I to disagree. Here was some advice I could and must follow.

So, having decided a new bike was required I allowed my old fashioned heart decide the make and model, and that meant a trip to 49-53 Grays Inn Road, London, to Condor Cycles. The last time I visited this shop it was on the opposite side of the road and consisted of a counter and just enough space to hoist the victim onto a crude looking device for a bike fit. This shop was to cycles what Ollivanders is to wands. I heard a story recently that a big bike shop had opened near to this small independent. Suffice to say the big brand had to close and Condor Cycles kept its Grays Inn Road location. The new shop has plenty of space on its ground floor to sell clothing and accessories, and an even larger basement for the all important bikes, frames and components. They have vintage frames hanging off the ceiling, sample bike frames along one wall, and a fenced-off paddock containing a dozen or so thoroughbreds awaiting collection. Our memories do play tricks on us but I am sure that there was an actual white picket fence with a gate keeping the baying hordes and their grubby fingers from someone's new pride and joy. 

Many of the leading bike brands start with a price point and work backwards from that to fit out a standard bike frame which is why you will see bike shops with brand X's models available at every price point to suit budget and planned cycling. At Condor Cycles they start with your planned cycling (racing, touring, commuting, off road and so on), your mileage, and then select the appropriate frame as a base to then build a bike to suit you and to a minimal extent, your budget. As the components cost what they cost, and all bikes need to be built by someone, it is not that much more expensive than buying off the peg. I note that an online review at the time put the starting price of a Condor Cycles touring bike at £1,698 though £2,000 would be a more realistic build price unless you kept rigorously to their lowest cost options and the shunned mudguards, lights and racks essential to touring.

Before I get carried away with groupsets and the like let's talk about the bike fit. We know homo sapiens wasn't really designed to walk upright though we kind of got used that, and we can also run injury free if we start running from a young age. We can take up running at a later age though that usually requires some assistance from a good physiotherapist as the inevitable injuries hit us. The evolutionary process in no way equipped us to sit for long periods at a desk or on the sofa, and it certainly did not set us up to sit on a bike for any length of time. Sadly, bike fits are usually an afterthought if they are thought of at all. We buy a bike at the local bike shop at the right price point and now that we want to do 5-hour rides we find that the bike is forcing us to be too upright, stretched out too far forward, or is just causing us pain. Bike fit experts will see you on your bike and adjust saddle height, handlebar height and swap in new components such as wider or narrower handlebars, longer/shorter handle bar stem and even setup our pedals if we are using clipless. 

After the all important small strong black coffee, step one of the Condor Cycles bike fit was to determine the right bike frame size for me which they did by sitting me on their adjustable cycle 'jig'. They offer a greater range of frame sizes than the big brands so you can get something that is just right. With saddle height and handlebar height set then comes handlebar width to match your shoulder width, correctly sized handlebar stem which moves your hands forwards or backwards. After a bit of tweaking and lots of critical appraisal of my pedalling on the cycle jig, I suddenly find myself in what feels like a sweet spot where I am leant forward at around 45 degrees with my weight pleasantly distributed between sit bones, hands and feet. Another small change, the saddle 5mm higher, and perfection just got better. OK, I have only been slowly pedalling for 15 minutes indoors with lots of rests while different adjustments are made and components are swapped in but it feels very comfortable sat high up on my eyrie. The balance of the thing feels just so. With the bike fit done it is time to dismount and get to the business of selecting components. I disengage myself from the pedals as I had brought my own MTB type shoes with their two-bolt cleats, and straddling the top cross bar with both feet on the floor I start to hoist one leg over the saddle. I can only hope my bike fit guru has averted his eyes as the saddle has been jacked up to the max, higher than the bike I am currently riding, and as I am on an immoveable 'jig' which itself is perched on a small platform my leg comes to a halt below the saddle. Suffice to say it takes some gymnastic effort to untangle myself from the bike fit apparatus and I resolve to go back to my stretching and mobility routines. Of course in the real world you lean your bike a little in the mount/dismount routine.

Earlier I had used an online tool provided by Condor Cycles to build my bike component by component so I had an idea of the choices available. Luckily I had the sense to put my own build plan aside and let the expert build the bike. Touring, some canal paths, some gravel tracks but no serious off-road. 1,000 mile tours but no more than 50 miles a day. With these parameters and my bike fit data the perfect set of components could be selected. A compact groupset (2 by 11) which included a 34 tooth front small chainring and a 34 tooth rear large sprocket giving a suitably low gear for towing a laden bike up hill, a comfy handlebar with a large surface area and padded bar tape for comfort, a honey coloured Brookes saddle and colour matched bar tape for that classic look. Yes please for some mudguards, no thankyou on the racks as I'll use a trailer and oh, I'd like some lights as I don't have any. 35mm gravel bike style tyres that are slick where they come into contact with the tarmac and more grippy on the side walls so they grip as you sink into paths when you need them to. I'd like to say that I selected each component though of course the expert made all the suggestions. My main decision was to go for the more ubiquitous Shimano rather than my preferred Campagnolo to make any long cycle tour maintenance and repair a little more predictable and timely.

Everyone loves shopping for a new toy and even for a shop-hater like me it was a good day out. Which brings us back to toys and the justification for them. Shortly after ordering the new bike the front derailleur on my old bike broke; it was a piece of cast metal alloy that gave way. Haha, I thought, I knew my old bike would break down irreparably, lucky I've a new bike on order. My sense of vindication was very short lived as the local bike shop performing the repair not only found a suitable (though not Campagnolo) replacement front derailleur that had the correct burnished silver aesthetic but they also managed to replace the bottom bracket (impossible according the precious bike mechanic) and magically sourced a new 8-speed genuine Campagnolo cassette. My case for a new bike was severely weakened and now rested on my choice of the more ubiquitous Shimano groupset for ease of repair in France and the touring friendly gear ratios.

The next date in my diary (15 November 2021) was a trip to the iconic map shop Stanfords who appear to have downsized in this digital age to a location just off Long Acre. I came away with the eight IGN TOP 100 maps that I required for Brittany and it is amazing that a shop exists where you can pick-up such items. Total weight 27oz or 765g though in the event I found I could leave some behind. This feels excessive but meant I could spend my evenings pouring over maps in the local bar. In my student days I spent a happy day wandering the minor roads of Brittany on a bike in a time before mobile phones smaller than a large brick, and I had no map, I do recall getting lost in the maze of minor roads and am unsure now how I regained the warmth of civilisation. At this stage I felt a map was a must and not just for blindly following a disembodied voice telling me to 'do a u-turn, then do a u-turn, then turn left in 300 meters'. However, though they were useful in planning, when it came to packing they were left behind and I did not miss them.

My new bike was ready for collection on 31 January 2022 and I decided on balance to collect it by train allowing me to get used to the bike on local quiet roads. Yes, I chickened-out! When I arrived I was provided with a briefing on how to bed in the disc brakes and how to use the STI (Shimano Total Integration) gear shifting. STI is hard to explain, or rather gear shifting when you have different sized cogs (sprockets) on front and back is impossible to explain simply. You get two gear change paddles on the left brake lever and another two on the right brake lever so four paddles in all. When I say that the little paddle on the right moves you into a higher/harder gear and the little paddle on the left moves you to a lower/easier gear you can understand why the bike mechanic showed me where they were, their basic operation, and suggest I just try it out. The only thing missing are some bottle cages and we select some and they are fitted along with the pedals I had brought with me. I buy spare inner tubes and cream for the leather saddle. Back home and I get to work bedding in the disc brakes. I am alarmed to find that the brakes don't really work until bedded in so I climb a short hill, loop round and speed downhill smoothly applying one brake at a time to heat them up without actually stopping. This process is designed to transfer some brake pad material onto the brake disc. Repeat until the brakes start to work. The temperature was a cool 3 degrees centigrade at the time and it took some time and patience to get the brakes working. Time for some very enjoyable test rides. The fit of the bike whenever I get on feels just right. I notice that the proper ride position puts more pressure on my hands as the saddle is higher pushing me forwards and that is something my body will adapt to.

Condor Heritage

A month after collecting my bike I am out for a ride to get me to the 150 miles needed before my 2 March 2022 bike 'tune-up' service at the bike shop. I think about anything I need to mention and notice noise from the drivetrain. At the next stop I see that the chain is rusting but as I am carrying chain lube and a rag I remedy that and the drivetrain goes back to purring and there is no noticeable red rust anymore. I am embarrassed not to have lubricated the chain earlier. Also, I know that something was said at the bike collection briefing about a task that needed performing every three months and that I may want to make a diary note so I remember. If I don't perform the task then the thing I do the task to may well fail and need replacement. An example of such a failure was quoted. That much I can remember. Luckily I find I had taken notes on my phone and it is the saddle that needs leather cream applied at intervals, top and bottom. The bike 'tune-up' is really just a check that nothing has worked loose and maybe a tune of the brake and gear cables which will have stretched slightly.

The expression goes that you need to gets your ducks in a row, meaning, get all the components together before starting assembly. With this in mind I soon set to attach the trailer to the bike with a view to seeing how the bike feels when towing. The rear spindle (axel) that has the trailer attachment went on the bike just fine. The trailer hooked on as it should. However the mudguard flap caught on the trailer yolk and even when I removed the mudguard flap the wheel just caught. It just didn't fit. I looked for longer yolks for the trailer with no success and moving to smaller tires on the bike did not make sense so I quickly resolved to move to a pannier setup which would work better for Brittany as I had a number of hotels stays planned between the campsites. Naturally the touring bike I had bought could cope with the weight and was designed to take racks front and rear. If I wanted to tow in future I'd need to look at a longer yolk if they become available. 

Having got used to the new bike over a number of rides I quickly discovered how to make the most of the gear shifters, changing gear more often to let my legs spin at the right rate and level of exertion so I could cover ground more easily. I also appreciated the 35 millimetre tires, steel frame and relaxed frame geometry as the bike carried me confidently over the potholes and off-road sections. My only minor niggle was the handling which felt a bit unnatural when cornering or getting out of the saddle up hill. I'd had a Condor cycle before (though a different model) and couldn't quite understand the lack of feel. I put it down to the bike needing to be a stable base for touring and carrying a load. This was tested when I loaded up the bike with four panniers artificially loaded. As I started to haul the bike round the first sharp corner it felt transformed as it nimbly took the bend in its stride. The improved balance didn't stop there as when I hit my main 'training' hill I got out of the saddle to see how the bike handled and the balance was just right compared to the rather lumpy feel when it was free of extra kit. 

It's An Age Thing - Or Is It?

I have never thought much about my age, and as I was something of an old man in my 20s, I have quietly enjoyed my numeric age catching up with me. That was until I saw that the next milestone - sixty - was looming closer and closer by the day. Conversations with contemporaries were now more about retirement and pensions than developing careers and the final nail in the coffin, figuratively speaking of course, was when I noticed that one of my pensions had me down as 'Status: Pensioner'. 'Pensioner' was what my grandparents were when I was ten. It was never supposed to be a status that I would acquire. I am good at doing things, not necessarily the right things, and I know I am very poor at understanding why I do the things I do. I just hope my desire to travel under my own steam was for the right reasons.

One of my aims for the Brittany trip was to try and apply some of the readily available modern cycle touring advice and maybe even learn from my last trip. I am quite good at background reading and research; my problem lies in my profound ability to ignore the advice, do my own thing and make life damned hard for myself in the process. Being born in 1964 I am now at an age when I clearly know better than the trillion cycle tourers that have gone before me, like buying a 4-person tent just for me or loading up a cycle trailer with enough locks to secure Fort Knox in addition to the aforementioned palatial tent. 

When I took up running at age 55, and later when I took up cycle touring aged 56, I followed (some of) the given advice but was puzzled at why I could still not run 5k in 25 minutes, or why 64k (40 miles) with a loaded touring bike was hard work, after all I was putting the training miles in. Reading Tim Moore's excellent book, French Revolutions, about his cycle tour along the Tour de France route in 2000, I noted that he covered 3,000k in a month and this included some epic hill climbs in the Pyrenees and the Alps. Tim was receiving gentle praise towards the end of his journey and in his own words he had concluded that this praise was tempered with the unspoken and conditional "Not bad for an old man". He turned 36 when he was part way through his cycle tour. I would be 57 on this trip and those extra years make a difference.

Whether I was actually learning from my experience or just displaying the caution that comes with age, I did plan a mini-tour in January 2022 to help get the training miles in and to validate my planned 64k daily average. As I'd be using hotels that meant new panniers so I also did a 1-day trial with loaded panniers to check out the impact of the extra weight, to ensure the panniers were fit securely, and to confirm that my heels would not catch the panniers at the 9 o'clock position. This was also a test in building my confidence in striding up to hotel receptions with a bike in tow. In France I planned to use some hotels and would need to walk in with the bike. Oh well, new experiences and all that. Some hotels actively support cyclists if you search hard enough on their websites and most will help you find secure storage for your valuable bike whether that is in a garage, storage room, laundry room, or in your own bedroom. Generally, the budget hotels seem to prefer you use your bedroom.

My January 2022 mini-tour validated the planned 64k daily average for planning purposes though I see my notes from that trip read as follows: "On a 500m ascent day, 40 miles easy, 50 miles OK, 60 miles hard". Given I'd adjusted the return trip to do the shorter 35 mile days as it was freezing cold, I think the 64k daily average when carrying camping gear was slightly optimistic given I'd be doing it day after day. I recall one piece of touring advice which was to have a full rest day every week and I did want time to relax and enjoy the experience. Being January the ground was wet and I soon learnt that my navigation app treated the "cycle touring" mode of navigation as an opportunity to go off road. This was not a problem on an earlier dry-June tour but more than a few times I was directed to turn off the tarmac onto muddy tracks so the return trip was strictly "road" mode. There is a lesson in there about making sure you understand your navigation apps options and algorithms so you get a route suitable to the type of cycling your want to do and that your bike is capable of.

France cycling laws include an assumption that in the event of an accident the larger vehicle is to blame provided the cyclist isn't caught doing something stupid. The UK caught up with that general concept in early 2022 with its hierarchy of road users. There are many sources of French cycling law and road sign information on the web including the very readable Loire Life Cycling article which also links to government information. No helmets are required for adults though I would wear one, a bell is mandatory, and reflective clothing for poor visibility conditions is required so I would at least buy a reflective top which is also required at ports when waiting to board your ferry. The top two takeaways were that some cycle paths are mandatory (don't use the road) and in some case you need to give way to the right.

For navigation you can use paper maps or digital tools and there are good reasons to use both of these in planning and during daily navigation. I would take paper maps, the IGN's TOP100 series which are laminated against Brittany's weather. I'd also use Komoot to help pre-plan the overall route and when I needed step-by-step instructions such as through towns. Actually, as I planned to post my route on my blog I would use Komoot all the way and at the end of the day save the day's map and stats to my phone as an image which I could then upload. Given I was camping and without easy access to power this meant taking phone, two power banks and five maps. Most cycle tourers would avoid doubling up in this way but camping is just not lightweight and I did want to be able to spread maps out and explore France.

For security I resolved to take a heavy duty lock. I would be travelling solo and wanted the freedom to leave my bike with some confidence it would be there on my return.

Planning; Its A Process

It felt like I spent an eternity researching how to plan this trip and the answers came from lots of background reading using books, the internet, and the Cycle Touring Festival who in 2022 put their material on YouTube. When I eventually got down to planning I did a number of iterations on the plan building up the detail. I used a spreadsheet to document the plan including dates, start point, lunch stop, end point, accommodation addresses, the number of kilometers that day, a running total of distance, and an average daily kilometers. When booking I kept a record of whether breakfast was included (rare) and any payment status especially where I needed to pro-actively pay a balance though nowadays sites take the balance automatically when it is due.

1. Border control: Check documentation and rules for travel including passport validity, EHIC/GHIC, and entry requirements both ways. I knew I'd need to watch the covid requirements if they changed and Brexit had introduced subtle changes. The EU treat passport expiry as the start date plus 10 years and ignore any extra months the UK may have added to expiry date. Existing EHIC cards are still valid if they haven't expired otherwise you need a GHIC. New UK passports don't add on any extra months so the expiry issue will go away.
2. Phone use and charges: Post-Brexit some phone companies have withdrawn their free EU roaming so it is worth checking. As I would pre-load planned routes onto my phone and just use GPS for the navigation I wouldn't have much data use, until I started re-routing which was bound to happen. I'd use a paper journal and do a brief daily online blog. In my case my mobile provider stated that: 'Roaming in Zone 1 is currently included in all our plans.  It is intended for temporary travel such as holidays and short breaks.  As a result, inclusive roaming in Zone 1 is subject to a fair use policy of 15GB of roaming data per month. Roaming data after 15GB is charged at 0.6p per MB.'
   
   
3. What ferry: I firmed up the dates and the Ferry crossings by checking ferry timetables; at this point I noticed Brittany Ferries do a night crossing from St Malo though only on a Tuesday. I failed to notice that my planned Tuesday outbound night crossing from Portsmouth didn't exist.
   
   
4. First pass daily plan: Next, I used a large scale map (Michelin 1:1,000,000) to chart an approximate itinerary following the 1910 tour. This allowed me to validate my tour was achievable in the planned timeframe. The Michelin map was particularly good as it highlighted (in green) tour worthy towns and scenic roads.
   
   
5. Second pass daily plan: Then I sat with the large scale map and the IGN TOP 100 (scale 1:100,000) maps using Google Maps to help with mileage calculations and finding campsites. I also used the various campsite directories as well when I needed more options though Google Maps seemed to cover the bases. I did detour to the campsites listed on Pitchup.com and prioritised Accor hotels to make the booking easier. I used booking.com and B&B Hotels once each. Using the ALL - Accor hotel website when I needed a hotel while keeping the other hotel sites in mind helped.  In this way I had a structure of hotels to charge devices and Power Banks, booked campsites and some cheap municipals where I could just turn up or alter my route if I needed to take a shorter route to recover or wanted to do something different.
   
   
6. Third pass review: This step let me fill in any must-see sights making notes on what I intended to see or do and validate the plan.
   
   
7. Fourth pass bookings: With a viable plan in place I started the actual booking of any elements that needed booking. This immediately highlighted the fact that my planned Tuesday outbound sailing did not actually exist and I adjusted the plan to start two days earlier all made easier through a spreadsheet. Most nights were either bookable on-line or I would just turn-up. The one campsite where I had to fill in a request form and submit (the crucial first two nights and last two nights in France) took an age to respond and left me with a "Pending" status which I mentally translated to "just turn up and hope". I had learnt that some of the lower cost campsites were not interested in the booking administration, or that they might wait until the season started in around April.
   
   
8. Route Planning: Having fixed the accommodation I could then focus on the route planning. Knowing that I would have hotels at intervals I decided to buy a second Power Bank and rely on my phone for navigation. Extra weight, but it meant I could use the excellent - and newly discovered by me - cycle.travel cycle route planning web site to get some great routes, export these to .GPX and upload onto my phone. It is worth remembering that planning is a process so trying to decide everything up front is not always helpful. Do your research then get on and do the planning being prepared to adjust as you go. As much as I liked the idea of using paper maps the ease of having a phone in a pouch round my neck and not having to find a paper maps mounting solution won out.
   

Its a question of tone

My English is pretty poor and my limited French language learnt 40 years ago has not been used much. With this in mind I tried to dust off and expand my French language skills. Step one was to watch French films and series with subtitles. This had the advantage of being a pleasant way to pass the time, allowed me to tune in to the French intonation and recall some French language. Of course I never found the French equivalent of Carry On Camping so the vocabulary was not tailored to my trip.

My Cook's 1910 guide had the usual vocabulary guide and some of that was useful. However, some of it was decidedly of the period. Je suis Anglais appeared as a catch-all answer for any situation; when I try to speak French everyone knows I am Anglais so I wouldn't be using that line. There appeared to be a distinct absence of the phrase s'il vous plait and an over use of what seemed to me a rather dominant and class based Donnez-moi. The vocabulary was helpfully listed in the order you would need it and by this logic the traveller's seventh requirement is donnez-moi du savon. Mutton makes an appearance alongside lamb, you get the right form of words for asking if your boots have been cleaned and hints on hailing a cab or omnibus and I quote "The best way, if not the only way, to attract the attention of an omnibus or cab driver is to make a loud hissing sound". With all that in mind, the Lonely Planet French Phrasebook and Dictionary is fantastic.

Stereotypes can be an easy conversational shorthand though they are often mis-used or just wrong. I am talking here about the British view of the French as rude. The French are not rude and will bend over backwards to be helpful. The French do have their own level of formality and a code of politeness which you need to follow. Specifically, if  you treat the French rudely by not complying with their normal day to day practices then you may get a rude response. The fact that the French have two words for "you" more than hints at this. The website offbeat France provides lots of helpful information for the visitor and helps to dissolve the myths. I am hoping to garner my own examples of this helpfulness on my journey.

That is probably enough pre-amble as the standard advice has been done many times. The only unique story is the personal story of a one-off voyage. It was Stephen Graham in his classic book "The Gentle Art of Tramping" who said that to dry your clothes after sleeping out in wet weather you needed to light a fire big enough to roast a whole sheep. You can see what my memory likes to retain. Getting back on track, he also said something profound about a journey being about the sum of all the small things, the sights, smells, what you ate, the hills you climbed, and the people you met. The seemingly boring or trivial facts are the ones that come together to build the adventure. The most extreme version of this I have encountered is Ellen McArthur's journal from her solo round the world sail. The general flavour of each entry was that the only good thing about today was that today was likely better than tomorrow will be. Pretty bleak stuff, but the message has stuck as I read the book 15 years ago. A more recent read was Mark Beaumont's telling of his race around the world on a bike where he details the day to day challenges of, you guessed it, weather, shelter, food, and (to a lessor extent) laundry. So, let's go for a bike ride.

Click here for week one.