I was lucky enough to be assigned to another mission in Talence from 07 to 10/09/10 and from 14 to 17/09/10.
On Monday, 06/09, finishing my usual work at 5 PM, I was able to catch the only direct daily train from Valence d’Agen to Bordeaux at 5:54 PM.
This train allows bikes on board for free, but upon arrival at the platform, I was quite lost when I didn’t see any bicycle logo. Luckily, a man got off with his bike. I unhooked my panniers and placed them inside the carriage, went back down, and struggled to lift my bike up the two large steps of the narrow door of the old Corail carriage just before the train departed. There were two hooks at the end of this carriage, which, to my great surprise, was first class. I secured my bike with a lock and decided to leave the pump and toolkit on it. I settled into a compartment in the next carriage, which was second class. Since I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, I discreetly turned up the thermostat for the air conditioning, which, as usual, had been set to maximum. Several small adjustments to halfway between hot and cold weren’t enough to get rid of the unpleasant chill, though I suppose it was comfortable for the other passengers.
When I got off at Bordeaux station after 162 km, I noticed that the word "vélo" was written very small on the carriage, as if SNCF offered this service reluctantly.
I turned on my GPS, which guided me to the TENEO Suites hotel in Talence, where I had booked for 8 nights.
The next day, I only had 3 km to bike to get to work. I experienced the same feelings and doubts on the avenue shared between the tramway, cars, bikes, and pedestrians, then on the bike path. See my first professional trip report from May 2009 (page 2).
Friday, 10/09: Talence to Arès, 96 km
After three rainy days, the sun was out for the weekend, reinforcing my decision to spend it on the Arcachon Basin. For a week, my calls to my works council’s vacation centers hadn’t secured me any accommodation—both the one in Arès and the one in Arcachon were fully booked. It wasn’t until I was about to leave Bordeaux that I learned a room had become available due to an early departure.
Since Talence is south of Bordeaux, I had to cross the city to reach the bike path to Lacanau, located north at Bordeaux-Lac:
http://www.tourisme-gironde.fr/...ordeaux-lacanau.aspxHere I was again on Cours de la Libération, then Cours Gambetta.
The tramway occupies the central part in both directions, leaving only one lane on each side. Sometimes the road is wide enough for cars to overtake bikes. When it’s too narrow, cars are allowed to drive with two wheels on the tramway’s central reservation to pass bicycles. The transition from wide to narrow is what I dread the most. Cars want to overtake me before the narrowing, so I sometimes brake to let them pass. This time, I slowed down before the "funnel" to let a small truck pass. It had a lift platform raised against the container, but between the vertical platform and the van, two planks were sticking out through the gap. The driver must have noticed them in his rearview mirror after passing me because he suddenly turned right. I realized I might have only ridden a few hundred meters for my bike weekend. If the plank, sticking out 1 meter horizontally, had hit me hard on the back of the head, I would have gone straight to the hospital…
It was hard to find the bike path while crossing the city center (I should have taken the quays). At Bordeaux-Lac, some people were enjoying the small sandy beach while others were putting away their sailboats. Here, you find the first pine trees characteristic of the Gironde department. The General Council welcomes me to the Bordeaux-Lacanau bike path. Strangely, on the way back from Lacanau, it’s called the same thing (probably to save on sign design for Lacanau-Bordeaux). Too bad, because the directions are quite limited. Even more curious, the rare directional signs are blue like highway signs. But the surface is very pleasant.
I stopped for a while at a picnic area. Two young people had started eating bread and sausage, but the boy’s hands were covered in grease. A flat tire followed by a burst inner tube. Bad luck at the start of their trip, which would take them to Brittany along the Atlantic. I admitted I’d never had a flat on my few thousand kilometers of travel (so I carry a repair kit and a spare inner tube for nothing).
A smell of wood immersed me further in the atmosphere as I passed a sawmill. But dust irritated my eye despite my Ray-Ban-style sunglasses, bought in the 80s and almost back in fashion. I prefer them for their large lenses, which protect me from the wind, and because, in addition to being corrective, they’re photochromic and not too dark in shaded areas (a little wink to all nearsighted people to say that nearsightedness delays presbyopia, and at 50, I can still read small print without correction as long as I have my frame).
Strangely, this time, it was my left knee that hurt (actually, it’s reassuring that the pain doesn’t always appear on the same side).
The bike path continues north to Lacanau, but I left it at Saumos to reach Le Porge via the RD 5. There, I found the path to the Arcachon Basin. In Arès, the basin shimmered under the sun. After getting the keys to my cottage, I swam in the lagoon of the vacation village. After enjoying the cooked meal service, I attended a slideshow about the maritime pine forest and the dune protecting it from the wind, presented by a local enthusiast.
Saturday, 11/09: Arès, 8:30 AM–7:30 PM, 141 km
I set my phone alarm for 7 AM to enjoy the beautiful day ahead. For a few years, I’ve dreamed of going all the way to Pointe de Grave, taking advantage of the bike path along the coast:
http://www.tourisme-gironde.fr/...e-cyclable_cote.aspxBut since I’m tied to the basin to benefit from my works council’s rates, I’ve never managed it. I would have to go far north to enjoy the impressive estuary, whose width requires a 30-minute ferry crossing. For the outbound trip, I decided to stay inland, passing east of the Lacanau and Hourtin lakes. First stop at the Lège market, where I chose a punnet of strawberries from the Dordogne. They held up well during the trip in my pannier, thanks to clothes lining the bottom, bubble wrap they rested on, and the morning coolness, offering their aroma at every break. I left the path at Lacanau for the RD 3, waiting for the parallel bike path in the works to be completed. When I reached Carcans, traffic increased on this long straight road. At noon, after 57 km, I arrived at Hourtin Port, where I had lunch on the terrace: mussels marinière and fries. This is where my childhood friend (from Rouen like me) used to send me a postcard every summer. Hourtin combines the joys of the tumultuous ocean waters with the calm of the lake and forest.
Before leaving, I reapplied the sunscreen I bought the day before. I hadn’t dared bring the one from home for fear of scaring off the sun, and the pharmacist in Arès was happy to sell me his last tube for 15.90 € (negotiated price due to a display error, otherwise 16.60 €) and wish me a good time at the beach. I told him it would be more like biking.
I don’t regret my investment today because this Roche-Posay cream can also protect lips since it doesn’t have a horrible taste (for a stick, I would have had to add 10 to 15 €).
On my brochure, there’s a bike path between Hourtin village and the port and another leading to Hourtin beach. But between the two, there’s a gap of about 3 km. After the charming Île aux Enfants
http://www.hourtin-medoc.com/fr/enfants.htmland a few bungalows scattered around a channel to the lake, I was forced to progress through the sand until a stream cut off my path. I tried to go around it by following a forest path that still showed traces of the previous days’ rain. Then, returning toward the lake where I hoped to find the path, near fishermen’s huts, I stumbled upon another stream. Let’s remember that it rains more here than in Brittany, and before, there were only marshes.
With this new detour and lost time, I saw the chance to reach the estuary slip away. I would have had to travel light. That’s what I had planned if I hadn’t gotten a place in Arès. But it would have cost me up to 100 € per night on this beautiful weekend.
I finally found the path to Hourtin beach. I arrived at 3 PM, and my odometer showed 74 km.
I locked my bike to a tree and hid my pump and first-aid kit in the pannier. My wallet and phone under my shorts, T-shirt on the beach sand. There were nice waves and many surfers. The temptation to swim was great, but I didn’t really feel at ease.
Was it the distance from my accommodation? My cash, checks, cards, and phone left a few dozen meters away? Were they rip currents? Even though I know that if caught in one, you shouldn’t resist and that surfers use them to get back out to sea. To avoid getting trapped, you should swim where there are big waves (which push you toward the beach—where there aren’t any, the current leads out to sea). I contented myself with wetting my knees, enjoying a pleasant feeling of freshness.
Now, I thought about the return trip. I avoided following the coast since Bartabas33 mentioned that the coastal path was damaged. No surprise, since it was built on the old concrete road the Germans had constructed to monitor the coast during World War II. I chose the forest path parallel to it, only 1 or 2 km inland. To my great surprise, it had been turned into a road, and vehicles were using it.
Here, all means of polluting are good. First, I was overtaken by two black mopeds and a blue one (I’ve never been attracted to this type of vehicle with roller drive). Then by others in small groups, accompanied by a 1960s moped. I crossed paths with two large 4x4s looking for thrills or game.
Cars passed at high speed while I had my snack on the side of this wide strip of asphalt. It wasn’t until I arrived at Carcans beach, where this former forest path crosses a road, that I realized it wasn’t closed to traffic. It wasn’t meant to replace the coastal bike path but had become an extension of the road from Lacanau Océan. Fortunately, I could take the Maubuisson path, then the one leading to Lacanau Lake. Finally, the bike path winds and has some elevation. A cyclist I met at an intersection invited me to stop at the top of a dune to discover the ocean to the east and the Cousseau reserve pond to the left. I thanked him, saying I would have passed by without noticing the viewpoint. He confirmed that along all these bike paths, there’s never any drinking water. Mine, though refilled at the restaurant, was lukewarm.
In fact, it wasn’t until after more than 100 km, arriving at Lacanau Lake where the path skirts it, that I found restrooms at a leisure base where I could refill my water bottle.
I found the path to Bordeaux again, then left it for the one to the basin.
Bartabas33, if you found the Voie Verte along the Garonne lateral canal monotonous, the paths here, all straight through the pines, are even more so.
Despite this day spent in the sun and fresh air and these 141 km, I couldn’t wait to get to bed and participated in the pétanque tournament organized by a guest.
Sunday, 12/09: 53 km
The Arcachon Basin is magnificent under the sun, and I regret not bringing a camera (again, for weight reasons, this time I brought my scientific calculator but left it at work for the weekend). Especially while admiring a group of seven swans gliding between the boats of the oyster farmers in Arès. Their huts had recently been repainted in blue, red, green, or yellow to distinguish the different producers.
But for today, the weather forecast predicted overcast skies and wind. It took me a little over an hour to reach Grand Crohot (the closest beach, 15 km away), while a good half-hour was enough for the return trip with the wind at my back. The pleasant bike path leading there was also frequented by joggers and rollerbladers on this Sunday morning. It was the regret of not swimming yesterday that pushed me toward the ocean. I easily climbed the gray dune covered with low plants, thanks to the boardwalk installed to withstand the passage of crowds. It was hot out of the wind. But descending the white dune covered with marram grass holding the sand, I realized I wouldn’t even set foot in the water today.
In the afternoon, I headed toward Andernos (always via the bike path, of course). For a few years, I knew there was a recumbent bike shop there, and I regretted not taking advantage of it. Even though it’s closed on Sundays, I wanted to know where it was this time. I only found this address online: AIRODIN Sports, ZA 33150 Andernos. On the large panel displaying the map before the roundabout at the entrance to the city, there was no Business Zone or Industrial Zone. It’s not very appealing for tourism. But looking closely, I saw a sector where the plots were larger and the street names evocative (Eiffel, Gutenberg). I had to go a few kilometers toward Bordeaux, and a bike path stopped at the sports fields just before the ZA. I saw many signs and small businesses, asked the few people there that day, but they didn’t know AIRODIN. In an auto workshop, a man knew the bike shop had moved but didn’t know where. Even on the ZA map I finally found (it’s at the entrance coming from Bordeaux), there was no AIRODIN.
After an hour of searching, I asked another handyman. He told me it was right next door. I had just passed an anonymous hangar, half of which was the bike shop. I went back and discovered a simple logo, not even stylized as a bike. They must follow the motto: "To live happily, live hidden."
Monday, 13/09: Arès to Talence, 62 km
My mission started again on Tuesday, so I took a day off to avoid having to return to my usual work. While waiting my turn to pay for my stay at the reception (open at 9 AM), I called (outside) AIRODIN on my cell phone. He told me he was in town (where his shop used to be) and could only see me at 10:30 AM. I told him I was passing through on my bike and really wanted to see these recumbent tricycle models. Though I was a bit pressed for time, I agreed to wait until then. Before hanging up, he added: "But you don’t know where the shop is." I replied that it took me an hour, but I finally found it. (Later, he cited discretion to avoid bike thefts, with his German Shepherd staying with him in town).
Luckily, the couple who own the Hase Pino appeared at the reception:
http://www.cyclable.com/....php?products_id=610which I had seen in front of a cottage. At my request, the man praised the qualities of this tandem, where the front passenger is lying down and the rear driver is seated. He told me it was also them I had seen passing through the camp on a recumbent tricycle with an astonishingly short turning radius (a feature of the Hase tricycle designed for the city). He owns several types of bikes and admitted that each has advantages and disadvantages. He told me that in Angers, Cycle Zen:
http://www.cycleszen.com/VC.htm also keeps a low profile to avoid being swarmed by the curious. He didn’t know AIRODIN but had heard he was special (a Dutchman who has been in Andernos for 15 years).
With all that, after 10 km, I almost arrived late for the meeting in front of the hangar. But still before the owner’s car, accompanied by his dog. He suggested I try a recumbent bike first, specifying that the first time, it takes about 15 minutes to get going. Though he lent me a model where you’re lying very close to the ground, reducing the risk of falling, I didn’t feel comfortable taking off and putting my feet on the pedals. He invited me to use the slight slope between his land and the road to start, but the few times I managed to take off, I couldn’t keep my balance. The most disconcerting thing was this articulated handlebar you bring to your chest, which doesn’t really allow you to lean on it. Not wanting to take up too much of his time, I returned the bike after ten unsuccessful minutes.
I then tried a Dutch recumbent tricycle, on which I felt immediately at ease, and took off with a quick acceleration, accompanied by the German Shepherd at the same level. I was surprised to lock the rear wheel when braking. The SCORPION I had tried in Toulouse (see 02/10) only had two disc brakes at the front. Like the Australian model I tried next, which reminded me of it but was less sophisticated.
I thanked him for the test rides. He confirmed I could find these models on his website. But it’s not that obvious:
http://www.airodinsports.com/index1.phpHaving already progressed toward Bordeaux, I didn’t feel like retaking the long loop of the bike path. I continued on the RD 215, which leads to the RD 106 expressway, which I decided to take on the shoulder. For the first time, I tried the fluorescent vest as my only T-shirt. It proved ideal in this nice weather as a windbreaker and sunshade, just ventilated enough. I discovered I felt safer here than on an ordinary road. Unlike on 11/06/08 (see page 1), where unfavorable weather conditions added to my fears as I took this D 106 in the opposite direction, making me advise against it. Today, I appreciated this shortest route between the basin and Bordeaux. Especially since when the two-lane road ends, a bike path appears in places, leading me to St Jean d’Illac, where I had lunch at the bakery: tomato and cheese bread just out of the oven, with a salad.
Instead of asking my GPS to take me directly to Talence, I had it guide me to the Wine Trade Museum at 41 Rue Borie, inaugurated by Juppé in October 2009:
http://www.mvnb.fr/multimedia.phpI asked to park my bike and luggage under the porch between the wide doors of the street and the access to the old wine cellar. For 7 € (1 € off with the discount voucher from the hotel display), the visit helps better understand the difference between a winegrower and a merchant who only ages wine in barrels and then bottles. The merchant sometimes makes blends from various origins but always from the Bordeaux appellation and the same vintage. For a long time, wines from other terroirs were refused entry to the city. In the 19th century, Louis Gaspard d’Estournel, owner of Château Cos d’Estournel, started a new trend: "wine returned from the Indies." Some châteaux send their wine on voyages to age it faster thanks to the heat and rolling effects.
Travel broadens the mind and improves wine. I hope it doesn’t sour adults, because I wouldn’t want to turn into vinegar when I’m a retired cyclist.
My visit ended with a tasting of a white and then a red. I didn’t find them great, luckily I had cookies to go with them.
I discovered that the Entre-Deux-Mers appellation refers to vineyards located between the Garonne and the Dordogne. As a little Norman on vacation, lulled by my parents’ car, I had always thought this term described what connects the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, like the Autoroute des Deux Mers.
I dropped off my luggage at the apartment hotel and headed to the CASINO to buy supplies for 4 breakfasts and dinners. Wisely staying to the right on the boulevard, knowing the bike path on the sidewalk would start in a few hundred meters, I waited behind the line of cars stopped at the red light. The young cyclist stopped next to me on my left didn’t seem to accept it. He decided to go up on the tramway’s central reservation to overtake. I shouted, "WATCH OUT!" but he didn’t seem to hear me or the tram driver’s desperate bell ringing. His head hit the completely shattered windshield, his bike went under the tram, which stopped quickly. Fortunately, he got up, and people invited him to lie down on the sidewalk, where someone quickly placed a synthetic mattress. He was bleeding a little from the head and had knee pain but was worried about his bike, which was rather reassuring. The driver got out, blocking all passengers in the tram, then changed his mind and let them out. I tried to reassure him, saying I was a witness because he was shaken by the event. I gave him my contact details as well as to the police, who arrived quickly. In a few minutes, Cours de la Libération was filled with pedestrians because tram traffic was interrupted in both directions.
Maybe it’s no coincidence that I only covered 32 km in Bordeaux for the rest of the week. But in the evening, leaving the computer, I enjoyed the Gironde warmth to go to the Thouars Park pool, where the outdoor basin was in its last days of opening.
While in May 2009 I had written that I was as happy as a clam, I discovered the disadvantages of the TENEO SUITE, especially for rooms facing full south. I wonder how a building permit can be granted without requiring shutters to protect from cold, heat, light, and noise. Given the heat in the rooms, the fridge struggled to keep food cold and thus heated up, further increasing the temperature, especially since the freezer was completely iced up, making heat exchange difficult (in two weeks, I would have defrosted 3 fridges: 2 at the hotel and one at the works council). Moreover, the water heater, set to maximum and not insulated, contributed to this sauna effect (just close the door of the room where it is to notice it). I don’t know if energy management can get any worse? Oh yes, just add air conditioning!
I remind you that the advantage of this well-located hotel is having a kitchenette, but what’s really missing is maintenance. Since the apartments have different owners, TENEO manages them. The first week, in my room on the 4th floor, there was no toilet paper when I arrived. I used my bike toolkit to tighten the door handle and barrel, the saucepan handle. The second week, in the apartment on the 3rd floor, the cable didn’t match the phone handset. The hostess gave me another one, as well as a large saucepan I didn’t have to cook my pasta, and a bulb to replace the burned-out one in the bathroom. In summary, be wary of my initial enthusiasm or my criticisms (for example, of the D106), which can reverse with a second experience. Last year, I found the hostess (of West Indian origin) unpleasant with men; this time, I found her nice...
Friday, 17/09: Talence to Fourques-sur-Garonne, 93 km
Mission accomplished. To return home, the goal was to reach the Voie Verte along the Garonne lateral canal. My GPS indicated 52 km to Castets-en-Dorthe, where it begins. I did 58 to avoid part of the D1113 and enjoy the Garonne banks at Cadaujac. This allowed me to cross paths with two coypus walking in the grass, only fleeing at the last moment. The females of this aquatic mammal have their teats on their sides to allow the young to nurse in the water. Then, two black sows and their litters escaped from the exotic farm that "contains" 1,000 animals.
Where the canal flows into the river begins the bike path, but these are my last kilometers in the Gironde department. You can tell because there’s no enthusiasm in announcing this route, which could yet lead all the way to the Mediterranean. Only the next villages are indicated by small signs. You have to enter Lot-et-Garonne to find beautiful signs evoking the superb Voie Verte between the Two Seas.
I even just learned that Gironde is giving up on building the bike path that was supposed to connect the Lapébie path to the canal path, putting an end to the project of a continuous greenway between Bordeaux and Toulouse. No need to keep dreaming of reaching Bordeaux to Sète without encountering a car. Gironde will content itself with marking a cycling route between Sauveterre-de-Guyenne and the canal.
Will there ever be someone at the national level who measures the interest of such a project for international tourism?
In any case, without this Voie Verte, I would never have gone on a professional trip by bike.
Although this is the third time I’m staying at Fiona’s B&B, I always hesitate about which bridge to take to cross the canal and go too far to the one leading to the cemetery in Fourques-sur-Garonne. U-turn and a few unnecessary kilometers to return to the center.
The welcome is always very pleasant, but each time the price increases by 5 €. This time, I had the pleasure of meeting her mother, who came from Scotland to enjoy the Southwest sun for a month. In the guestbook, I found the passage of the two young Quebecers I had invited to eat and sleep in Valence d’Agen before accompanying them the next day on part of their Toulouse-Bordeaux trip, advising them:
http://www.fionas-bb.com/fr/Saturday, 18/09: Fourques to Valence d’Agen, 85 km
I escaped the rain on this return home on this familiar route.
Satisfied with this trip combining work and leisure, which fulfilled my desire for a bike tour, I can set aside the bike for a while to tackle the hedge trimming in the garden…
Last October, we landed in Marrakech to spend a few days with family exploring Morocco’s roads.
Transport: a rented Dacia.
Accommodations: small guesthouses.
Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.
The large solidified magma massifs that shape the heart of the island have created a large depression more protected from the sun at its center, allowing the growth of a vast laurel forest, today grouped within the Garajonay National Park, La Gomera’s green lung, which has earned it the status of a World Biosphere Reserve. Its completely European appearance contrasts sharply with the rocky and tropical landscapes of the rest of the island. Thus, the climate varies greatly from one point to another on the island: in summer, you can quickly go from a dry and sunny valley at 35°C to a humid forest area at altitude at 18°C.
Why this country?
After visiting Hungary, Slovenia, Romania, and Poland in recent years, I’ve fallen in love with Eastern European countries. I adore the Slavic soul, its Austro-Hungarian villages, the gentle landscapes, the Carpathian Mountains, and that slightly mysterious atmosphere.
Slovakia evokes a certain imagination with its deep forests, medieval castles, and cobbled villages.
After seeing photos of the High Tatras—especially Lake Štrbské Pleso and Spiš Castle—I thought, "Let’s do it! We’re going!"
So, will Slovakia live up to what I imagine?
We’ll find out together.
We decided to travel as a group of six (five adults and a six-year-old child), by car (we needed two).
Here’s the day-by-day itinerary for this family trip, which started with a 3-day stay in Vienna (see the dedicated travel journal):
When it comes to the Caribbean island of Saint-Martin, it's customary to praise its coastline and dreamy beaches—and they certainly deserve it.
But in this story, I’d like to highlight other memories, aspects, and impressions for a slightly different change of scenery.
Enjoy the read—some text and, above all, lots of photos.
« Byenveni sou zile Sen Maten! » (Welcome to the island of Saint-Martin)
