Week One
The Bike for Brittany
I'd be taking a Condor Heritage touring bike for the Brittany adventure with front and rear Ortlieb panniers. Load weight is 16Kg including the weight of panniers and basic food supplies. This is light for camping and fairly average for touring. I would see cyclists with fully loaded trailers and others with one compact bag for a fortnight.
Cycling in the 1910's
Despite the lack of bicycle refinement in the early 1900's, cycling opened up new opportunities such as basic mobility, racing and leisure. The very first Tour de France was held in 1903 and even by 1919 a race bike would weigh 12Kg due to the need for a robust steel frame, wooden rims and cork break blocks. You might be thinking that this 12Kg isn't too far from modern steel framed bikes but this was due to the lack of extras such as gears! Gearing solutions may have involved one cog on either side of the rear wheel with a gear change achieved by manually turning the wheel around. In 1910 Octave Lapize won the Tour de France and as shown in the photo of Octave himself it was honest mud, sweat but no gears.
Day One
I prefer to cycle from home rather than taking trains to a sensible start location, so starting from home is what I did. Starting in North West London with a view to exiting London on its Southern border was always going to be testing. Crossing the M40, M4, M3 then finally the M25 and I was finally free of the city and the adventure could begin.
It is tempting to complain about the lack of cycle infrastructure in the UK or the deficiencies. However, as I followed a national cycle route out of London which kept me safe and off busy roads I am going to praise the organisations that do work to improve cycling. After a relaxed ride to Staines I am rewarded briefly with a stretch along the Thames and a statue to Swan Upping, the annual tradition of counting the queen's swans.
It isn't until after Woking that I get pleasant roads, then through Guildford where I snapped my bike while it is still looking vaguely clean. Either because of my navigation tool instructions or visible signs I have been following national cycle routes and it is perhaps a happy unintended consequence that the cycle routes provide navigation tools with excellent hints to improve their routing.
Leaving Guildford I was feeling quite smug. I was feeling fresh and relaxed. Then things suddenly felt harder and I was actually having to work. I realised I was climbing over the (quite modest) North Downs and it wasn't long before I was sat by the pond at Watts Gallery which meant I was crossing the North Downs Way which I had walked in 2020 between pandemic lockdowns. Following the decent off the Downs I swept through the village of Hurtmore. Hurt more? A mocking question from a silent village.
Day 2
Day two was all about getting to Portsmouth and with time in hand I had opted to cycle round the coast at Portsmouth to the ferry port. All day I was on and off Shipwrights Way which follows the old route used to get timber to the ship yards.
After a few false starts the rain set in and I found myself on a route that followed main roads, albeit on cycle tracks. So, I went off the planned road on a new route which was still wet but varied. Lunch was boiled eggs and more biscuits in a bus shelter. I don't really mind cycling when it starts raining en-route but hate it when I have to stop and deal with the fact that I am wet and getting cold.
I managed to get to the port via a mash up of back roads and cycle paths and again was grateful for the cycleways and mobile app navigation which took me seamlessly through the required underpasses. Good news is that I feel pretty good after the 2-day ride of just over 90 miles.
At the port, check-in opened at 4pm (I'd arrived horribly early at 3:45pm) then boarding started at 6pm. Not ideal but navigating en velo was slow and I has nowhere else to be. That left me shivering in the bike shed resisting the lure of whatever the port facilities were.
Ah, the photo. I took the long way to the port following the coast and the gravel 'dunes' peppered with salt tolerant plants was one reward. As a cyclist on a ferry you follow the cars and get funnelled into a lane for pedal and motorised bikes. You cycle and then walk onto the ferry where you are directed to a storage room off the main car deck where bikes are held.
Day 3
Staying with UK time, the wake-up alarm started at 6am, just in time for a café crème and croissant before being prompted to exit the cabin at 6:45am then down to the car deck for disembarking at 7:15am. 8:15 local time. The bikes get stored in a room off the car deck and the smart people had left panniers attached to their bikes; I hadn't organised myself for this and anyway had a tent to air so I enjoyed a workout up and down 5 stories carrying my 16Kg.
The night before I had a lovely shower in the cabin then chatted to a couple of fellow cyclists in the bar. We had been grouped together in a car lane of our own for boarding and with a long wait everyone got introduced. I understand two solo cyclists each heading to Bulgaria had paired up.
As soon as I got beyond passport control, where they have reintroduced stamps for non-EU citizens, I stopped to get organised. Some map orientation, Satnav on, sunglasses on, and I was off. Stopping at one of the entrances to Saint-Malo old town three women from the ferry pulled up and invited me for a coffee. I foolishly declined as I was keen to be on my way. I had learnt to take food as it revealed itself so first stop was a village boulangerie for a ham and cheese baguette. Then onto Cancale to try the oysters as my 1910 Cook's guide mentions the oyster market and it is still there 112 years later doing a brisk trade. I sampled 12; 6 each of two types and perhaps because they were small I found them to be excellent. From Cancale you can look across the bay to see the distinctive outline of Le Mont St Michel and also the lump that is Mont Dol where I was headed. Mont Dol is the local giant at 61m. From Cancale, onwards towards Dol-de-Bretagne along quiet country lanes, the coast road and a galette and cider. Look, this is my first day, I am riding along the touristy coast so it seemed only polite to indulge. Also, don't look too closely at today's route. Some of the squiggles and backtracking where intended but only a few.
In 1910, Brittany was fiercely independent and that feeling still exists and is very visible in the many Breton flags that are flown outside houses. The Breton flag contains black and white stripes similar to the Cornish flag. The Breton language itself is Celtic in origin and my 1910 guide informs me that Welsh sailors landing in Brittany could converse with the locals as Welsh has the same language roots.
I managed OK with language today. Basically I had a go and was rewarded with a chat to a French man who was interested in my tour. He was about my age and he was happy to volunteer to speak English thereby dispelling a myth.
Day 4
Aujourd'hui, je me repose. Yeah, right. Unladen it's a chance to get out of first gear and still enjoy the landscape which today resembles beautiful Northamptonshire, a county often overlooked.
I ate breakfast to the tones of "itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini" which I expect lends itself to the French ear; after all they like listening to Bobby Lapoint. Breakfast at the B&B (chambres d'hotes) is traditional tartine; lengthways slices of French bread with butter or with homemade jams, not both together. They spoil me with options of fruit and pain au chocolate which is above and beyond a normal simple French breakfast. I sit in awkward isolation in the main living room while my hosts eat at the kitchen breakfast bar quietly chatting. I am not eavesdropping but overhear the husband say "je sais rien", I know nothing. Breakfast habits may differ but some things are universal.
I am learning to use the technology and keep mobile roaming off unless I really need it as my navigation app keeps wanting to re-plan as I go off the planned route which happened today when I added 22Km on a diversion to Le Mont St Michel. This also happened when I saw a church steeple and diverted to find a locked church but an open village community café/shop which I felt obliged to support.
Later, stopping at a roadside shop selling apple products I asked for a cold apple juice and the shop keeper asked if I was cycling. I had helmet hair I guess and cycling shoes to match. I explained I was on a 30-day tour of Brittany; he was very polite in praising my (attempts at) French and even more politely did not ask what I was doing in Normandy if I was touring Brittany. I'll have to revise my lines when I get up into Avranche and Coutances towards the end of the tour which is definitely Normandy and look forward to revisiting Le Mont St Michel at the end of the tour.
Day 5
Still cool but sunny. A great day to be out on a bike. The winter wheat and winter barley is well progressed and small hay meadows are being mown. Compared to London the roses are all out in bloom. The winter crops mentioned above are sown in autumn, happily overwinter, and will ripen earlier than spring sown. Here in Brittany the sweetcorn is 2 inches high and I am guessing some at least is destined to be winter fodder for cattle.
I am trying to avoid too many religious buildings but this is the Basilique St Sauveur in Dinan and the square in front of it.
What is a cyclists best friend?
Well, mine is of course my wife and not just because she bought me a lovely bike. But back in 1910 professional cyclists were powered by caffeine, drugs and alcohol. On a bike you can keep pedalling if you can tolerate the pain. The Tour de France cyclists and their supporters also resorted to blatant cheating such as throwing carpet tacks behind them.
A good day in the saddle. And talking of saddles, for many years Brooks has been something of a standard especially for tourers. You can spot the person with the 20 year old saddle on a 2 year old bike. At passport control the official spent plenty of time talking bikes and offered to buy each and every Brooks saddle that went through.
I'd worried about just turning up at campsites as the protocols vary and are not always clear. Today seemed OK as I set out.
My plan was lunch in Dinan but I ate leftover bread and peaches instead and tonight will be simple camp stove food. Lovely campsite in a small village and I hope they don't kick me out as reception is closed, though a helpful French lady and fellow camper came over and told me what to do in perfect English. The French are so helpful. So much so that this morning my landlady held my bike while I piled on the panniers which one of the other guests helped bring down to the garage.
My plan was lunch in Dinan but I ate leftover bread and peaches instead and tonight will be simple camp stove food. Lovely campsite in a small village and I hope they don't kick me out as reception is closed, though a helpful French lady and fellow camper came over and told me what to do in perfect English. The French are so helpful. So much so that this morning my landlady held my bike while I piled on the panniers which one of the other guests helped bring down to the garage.
Day 6
Brittany was the land of druids, Asterix and Obelix. Obelix was the sidekick who often carried a tall stone behind his back; probably because he was a menhir sculptor and also delivered his product. If Asterix was 100 years before the birth of Christ (confounding Julius Caesar at every turn) then the druids themselves date back about another 200 years. Menhirs are thought to have been built from as early as 4500 BCE, if not earlier, so I expect Obelix was creating knock-offs.
Peulvens are pillars of stone 2 to 8 feet high set upright. Menhirs are similar but taller and the one I saw near Dol was one of the tallest at 30 feet showing above ground. Brittany, and especially the sub-region of Morbihan is littered with such stone age structures.
A dolmen in contrast looks like a table with two stones supporting a flat table top.
Monoliths are single standing stones which can be combined to make a henge, like stone henge. Megaliths are, well, mega stones that form a structure so the two terms overlap.
I had worried about French opening times and finding food but of course the boulangerie is open each morning and if the village is too small then the bar/tabac/grocery/betting shop will keep you going. The old bar tabac has diversified and not just into vaping products. No fancy bakery goods here but a coffee and some milk bread from the attached grocery. In real France pastries are reserved for the weekend or special occasions. A slower start today as I waited for the rain to stop, the tent to dry, and to pay my camping fee when the local Marie (Town Hall) opens at 9:30. Many towns and some small villages have a municipal campsite run by the local authority and its these I am using rather than the four star water park variety.
My destination today is Binic which was home to one of the many bathing stations that dotted the Brittany coast in 1910. A short update today as I need to get my bathing costume on.
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| Pordic |
Day 7
Woke to brilliant sunshine and a view to die for on this well run campsite; €7.85 for me. While checking in, the receptionist was taking calls and it was clear they were full tonight (mid-May) but they still had space the following evening for camper vans, and in France, everyone seems to use a camper van rather than a caravan. Despite a queue, reception took time to brief me and offer restaurant recommendations which I followed up; after two days of bread and pasta I was ready for a decent meal. This morning the tent was dry (no dew or rain) and perfect conditions to make coffee and a hot breakfast to see me through the day. Luckily I had breakfasted and packed up just as the forecast light rain started. Sheltering for 30 minutes I was then able to spend another dry day.
I have had two occasions of having to wait patiently while the person at the front of a queue gets lots of time for a relaxed chat and I now understood that it is quality that counts in France and not the speed at which the queue moves.
Today I skip the 1910 tour and follow the EV4 which is a European cycle route that follows the coast. It's a chance to see if I might want to do the EV4 or similar route at a later date.
Lunch is bread and rillettes bought on route, then bread and homemade jam. The same for dinner. The B&B today was a late replacement for a closed campsite and they hadn't booked me in as my email looked like spam/robot. Luckily they did have space and sat me down with their homemade cider while I regained some energy. When I met the owner and introduced myself he wasn't really expecting me thinking the email was from a robot. This may explain why he took time to read the email conversation we had had on my phone. He would read each email and look at me as if trying to convince himself that I was real and not a robot or an android.
Cycling allows you to travel at just the right speed to cover distance and be able to see everything on the way. OK, I am in for a bit more light rain but you can't have everything all of the time.
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| A grotto |
