clairedavieswriter

Châtellerault was largely closed yesterday, it being Monday (?), but did its best to make up for it this morning, sending me off in style with velvet-smooth tarmac and smartly painted bike paths. I crossed the river, passed between this imposing pair of gatehouses…

And turned right, at which point I realised I was in for a difficult day:

Obviously, I was riding northeast. All day. And across terrain that often resembled Norfolk, but felt like Kansas.

Such was the strength of the wind that I spent most of the day in gears I normally use for climbing. Ironically, the few hills I came across actually offered some respite, because they protected me from the blast.
But it could have been worse. The mid-morning drizzle that had Bernard diving for cover and me digging out my waterproofs didn’t last.

Around midday we bade farewell to the Vienne and its characteristically petal-strewn waters

Four hours later we pedalled over the Indre, and crossed the Cher on our way into Tours

On the way, the soil changed from earthy brown to chalky white. An information board in Marcilly sur Vienne explained that the area is famous for its limestone, which was used to build the châteaux of the Loire. Word of the day: le tuffeau

Signs today ranged from the modest:

To the friendly:

To the downright menacing: did the gun owner have a beef with this bend, I wondered, or was the sign just convenient target practice?

And as for this graffiti on the wall of an apparently vast estate that probably had the mob at the gate in 1789, what can I say: plus ça change?

Unfortunately, Guillaume could not be persuaded to make a detour for this alluring prospect. Another time perhaps.

Tonight we’re in a bike friendly hostel in central Tours called The People:

Where I am in a bunk bed:

While Bernard is snuggled up on a beanbag in a purpose built bike shed.

I’m pretty sure I’ve got the room to myself… but for once Bernard might be more comfortable not sharing with me.