by Liz

Miles : 29. Ascent : 2,088’

We woke at 6.30, the sea like a millpond through our cabin window, and watched the sun rise over the horizon. Breakfast in the ferry restaurant was an interesting medley of fruit, yogurt, croissant and eggs, and we watched a tiny bird flitting alongside the ship, looking like it was too small to be such a long way from land. 24 cyclists disembarked. All the vehicles drove carefully around the one car (a convertible) whose owner had presumably overslept. 

At 10.20 we took a departure photo with the damp docks behind, called out a cheery ‘Bonne route!’ to our fellow cyclists and pedalled off. Within five minutes we a) outsmarted a Komoot silly billy special and b) got lost, but were soon back on track, riding past old stone cottages with shutters on each window and hollyhocks outside the front door, and through the first of many fields of crops, principally Savoy cabbages, with views down to the coast. 

Philip carried out an impressively speedy food shop in Leclerc, coming out within 25 minutes with two baguettes, salad, a large piece of salmon and two beautiful, ripe peaches, the like of which I recall from my days in France in the 1980s. St Pol de Léon welcomed us at midday with the tonk-tonk chime of the town clock, that particular timbre that lets you know you’re in France. The cathedral bells then peeled to mark the end of mass. The square boasted a market and the pavement cafés were brimming. 

It was quite a hilly day overall, along footpaths, quiet country lanes, alongside an estuary and a stretch of old railway line. Between towns and villages were more croplands, not only cabbages but carrots, leeks, globe artichokes, celeriac, butternut squash and pumpkins. Lunch was on a bench, two extremely hungry cyclists who hadn’t eaten carbs for several months were let loose on a genuine French baguette and cheese. It tasted incredible, and the peaches didn’t disappoint. 

The afternoon miles passed slowly in the warm humidity. My aim to ride La Vélodyssée without battery assistance was severely tested. It didn’t help that I was weighed down by a side of salmon but there were other factors at play such as steep hills and knowing I was holding us up, which also meant not stopping to take photos or to drink, feeling fatigued, and not having the opportunity to ride together. So despite the months of training with the bike in off mode, it was a no-brainer to turn the battery on for the uphill stretches. It was a noble intention but sometimes common sense has to prevail. 

We rode side by side through rolling landscape with long rows of poplars. As the afternoon wore on we stopped on a bench in woodland and enjoyed miniature Breton galettes brought from our ferry cabin, and had a long conversation with a friendly couple out for a walk, a satisfying first encounter with local people. Three miles later, as we approached our house for the night in Plougonven, I was glad not to run over a chicken which darted out from a hedge almost under my front wheel. A small frog hopped across the narrow lane as we checked the final stretch on the map. 

The house we’re staying in is a typical Breton home, built in 1896, with welcome natural air conditioning so it’s cool after our warm day. This is our first experience of a French Airbnb and Yvon the owner kindly brought us some milk and coffee – there are no shops in this rural area – and threw in some crisps and homemade jam for good measure. 

Philip is working on the salmon, which survived the day’s heat and rigours, and we’ll enjoy it with crisps and deluxe pannier-squashed salad. Tomorrow will be a longer day but the next week and a half are due to be significantly cooler. For which three cheers.