clairedavieswriter

Team Bernard started the day beside La Loire…

And ended it beside Le Loir:

We had company throughout:

And despite the constant threat from the northeast:

It was a thoroughly enjoyable day, which I confess came as a bit of a surprise given how fatigued my legs felt this morning. How to explain this unexpected turn of events?
Could it have been the excellent cycle infrastructure in Tours, which took me safely through early morning traffic, past its oh so French Hotel de Ville:

… and extraordinary cathedral:

Or perhaps it was the first 10k of traffic-free riverside riding?

Or the next wind-sheltered stretch of old railway line:

Or the châteaux peeking out at every turn:

It could have been the tantalising promise of refreshment, even in the most humble of places:

Or the attractive towns and villages we passed through, like Montoire-sur-le-Loir:

Or the thoughtfully provided temporary bridge that avoided roadworks and offered a perfect view of Lavardin’s ruined castle

It could have been my eclectic playlist, which ranged from Shania Twain to Dolly Parton via Bruce Springsteen, Erasure, the Sound of Music yodelling song, and a number that could be the anthem of my trip: Lucy Spraggan’s Why Don’t We Start from Here.
Or it could just have been the constant blue sky and sunshine:

It certainly wasn’t this:

My guardian angel du jour was a wild-haired but kind-faced woman clutching a watering can, who explained how I could rejoin my route, albeit via a long detour beside a busy main road, into the teeth of the wind. Because obviously, I couldn’t escape it entirely, and there were spells when I was back in Kansas:

And even though the sky did its best to distract me, on this stretch I resorted to counting telegraph poles just to keep the pedals turning:

Overall, I suspect the reason today was so enjoyable despite the challenges was that the route passed through more towns and villages, which I always find more interesting (sorry Kansas). This one seemed the perfect spot to eat my tuna wrap (it’s hard to be a full-time veggie in rural France):

As always, there were distractions on the way. Worryingly, yesterday’s hunter seemed to have turned his sights on cyclists:

Though judging by the gates to a nearby mini-château, perhaps the local deer have more cause to be concerned:

This place near Vendôme seemed to rather miss the point:

And while I wasn’t sure what the name of this theatrical trio meant, I feared it might describe the size and shape of my posterior after 6 weeks of pedalling into the wind:

But if today is anything to go by, it’ll have been worth it – though I realise it’s a little early to say. When I explained to a local cyclist near Tours that I was riding ‘Du Pays Basque au Pays Bas’ (credit M. Porter), she said with a smile: ‘Ah, vous n’êtes pas arrivée alors’. Not quite, no, but for the moment I’m just pleased not to have Gone with the Wind. Tonight I’m staying just behind and to the left of Vendôme’s imposing gatehouse, awaiting the weather forecast with the courage of Dorothy’s Lion.