clairedavieswriter

Today we swapped pines for vines:

As the crow flies, our destination lay north east of Bordeaux, but Guillaume took us on a wide loop to the south and east first. For once, we weren’t complaining: with cycle paths as well- maintained and inspiring as this, it would’ve been churlish not to take the scenic route:

Talking of inspiring, how about this sign, half-buried in a bush on the east bank of the Garonne:

Those of you privy to my deliberations over where I would ride this year will know that Spain to Norway on the EuroVélo 3 was an early contender, before I came up with my End-to-End-of-European-countries project. I’ll leave you to decide which plan was the more sane.
EV3 is also known as the Pilgrim Route, and as it passes through France, the Scandibérique. From our experience today, it’s fantastique.

I mean just look at it:

From the heart of Bordeaux, with its majestic buildings and super efficient trams (driven mostly by women, we observed):

… we rode for 35 traffic free kilometres, first beside the Garonne, where imposing entrances suggested grand villas hidden from view…

And then on a path flanked by oak, elder, rowan and beech. Along the way we surprised a red squirrel, sunning itself on a branch right beside the trail, and heard a cuckoo calling.

As you might have guessed, this part of the trail followed the line of an old railway. Station buildings and platforms remain, testament to the ebb and flow of human activity:

And as I found last year, the old tunnels are now thoughtfully equipped with movement sensitive lighting, to benefit 21st century two-wheeled travellers

When we reached the end of the line, there was no question we were in wine country:

And soon Bernard and I found an old friend, this time crossing her from south to north:

As always, there were sights to amuse and intrigue us.
From the political:

… and the historic:

… to the relatable:

And once again, Bernard was glad he didn’t need his snorkel:

Gloria Google hasn’t been able to explain this sign, inscribed on the wall of the Place de Verdun, opposite the Mairie, in the small town of Saint-Denis-de-Pile. Suggestions on a postcard please.

Tonight we’re in a Chambre d’hôte. Colin and Bernard are tucked up in the garden shed and we’ve just enjoyed a picnic supper consisting mainly of carbs in various guises. When it came to beverages, the decision was straightforward:

It’s just a shame Bernard hasn’t got any space in his panniers for duty free.