by Liz

Miles : 39. Ascent : 581’.

Running total : 838 miles.

Last night’s accommodation without WiFi or signal made a welcome change. Instead of staying in touch with the outside world, I read my book, ‘La Vie’ by John Lewis-Stempel, a Herefordshire farmer who sold up and went to farm in Nouvelle-Aquitaine. Each chapter covers a month and I’d hoped that by the time we got to Nouvelle-Aquitaine I’d be reading the September chapter. We entered that region 11 days ago when I was still reading May, but what I didn’t know is that Nouvelle-Aquitaine runs all the way to the Spanish border. So I’m happily now reading about Nouvelle-Aquitaine in September while riding through it. Like in America, we’re traversing three regions, Brittany (five days), Pays de La Loire (seven days) and larger Nouvelle-Aquitaine (12 days). 

For the past few days we’ve been passing cork oaks with their distinctive bark. Some have been harvested, the lower four to five feet of the bark removed from the main trunk. I checked this with Steve who has cork oaks on his land near Céret, around five hours’ drive away. It takes nine years for it to regrow. The dead man’s foot or horse dung mushrooms grow in the same habitat – the photos show how aptly they are named. 

I’m sitting on the sea wall at Hossegor. It’s cloudy and the ocean is grey-blue. A large group of young people on the beach are playing an energetic ball game akin to rugby and there are at least a hundred surfers in black riding the impressive waves. A sparrow is on the wall beside me clearing up the crumbs from our lunch. It’s a hazy day and to the south we can just make out the first mountains of the trip. The Pyrenees. Tomorrow we reach the border with Spain. 

On our penultimate day in France we have ridden in pine and oak forest, through small towns, alongside the ocean and sand dunes, beside a canal and past a vineyard. Church clocks have clanged and cockerels crowed. Leaves are turning yellow and creepers deep red. We have said Bonjour to innumerable cyclists, raised a smile in many and chastised an impatient driver for honking at two elderly cyclists who mistook an entrance for an exit. We wished bonne route to a seriously laden rider with a beautiful golden retriever in his trailer. We’ve enjoyed another baguette, tried a different cheese (Pont l’Evêque this time) and will dine tonight on pavé of salmon from the fishmonger. 

We can’t quite believe that we booked not one but two successive Airbnbs without WiFi. We were getting a bit slapdash when we made the last few reservations. There will be more reading this evening and no photos posted till tomorrow night. Maybe by the morning I’ll be reading October’s chapter. It’s just around the corner after all. Rather like Spain 🇪🇸