Good times while racking up the miles

       Setting up camp and settling into my tent was like old home week.  Peter, my bicycling buddy, was twenty feet away snoring up a storm.  He keeps telling his wife he doesn't snore....  Once again no toilet seats but the shower was hot and the sun was shining.  After drying off the gear from all the condensation and loading up, we pushed off from La Valary de Caux at 9:47. Down the road at a 10:25 we cruised into near deserted seaside town, Fecamp.  Sitting by the sea wall taking in the rays, we were served a plate of five cheeses on a large plate with pate, du pain, expresso and a small glass of apple brandy. The chalk cliffs loomed nearby while the shoreline and surrounding hills made for an idyllic setting.  Fueled up, Peter and I began the serious peddling. Hill and dale, winding through small roads surrounded by harvested fields, small hamlets and cows with every mile that passed.  Peter showed me the tiny bike signs to follow.  We barely got near any heavily traveled roads.  After several hours of making our way along the coast, we arrived at another seaside town, a little more hip than the first one.  Bought some ice cream and sat on the wall looking out to sea, charming!
      As the miles mounted up, our destination of La Havre appeared in the distance.  Before making the plunge into this huge port city, we found a quaint town where we split a local wine size bottle of local beer and feasted on peaches, nectarines and plums.  After adjusting my new derailleur (which works well enough after learning its quirks), we descended into La Havre.  It took us a good hour and a half to find a place.  Hold up in a classy McDonalds (is that a contradiction in terms) with free wifi, Peter found a hostel of sorts.  A bit pricey but nicely laid out and are own room.  Cleaned up and walked to a local middle eastern mom and pop restaurant where we feasted on a mountain of food and a few beers. Not a bad day, fifty-five miles, not a bad day at all!

Back in the running

    Hopped out of bed at 7:20, apprehensive about my ability to ride today given my throat cold, I packed up, had breakfast and clicked onto the pedals. A long steep hill out of Eu confronted me just as I cleared the town center. Rather than start off hard, I dismounted and walkered. From the top of the hill, off I pedaled gaining confidence with each mile. My throat and chest felt fine and the bike was working well.  A bit hilly on my way to Dieppe but I felt great.  Rolled into town and the sun was shining. Dieppe is a thriving seaside city.  The harbor square was bustling with fish mongers and a few artisan tents were set up. Met three English speaking French men and one told me about a cafe where I could have a nice lunch.  Right in the town square a block back from the harbor, I had a goat cheese and bruschetta sandwich on a baguette.  A delicious sandwich sitting outside of the cafe with the sun at my back, I was loving it.  Local people were gathered doing the same thing. I could have hung out all afternoon.
       After over a hour of chill time, I climbed on the saddle and headed for Saint Valery-en-caux.  Nice ride, a few hills, the ocean off in the distance to my right, huge modern windmills turning, farmland surrounding me and I felt great.  Upon arriving in town, I stopped at the tourist informatio office. A bike loaded up was parked outside. Inside, I met a fellow biker going my way.  It was a breath of fresh air.  Petre Schultz, a Dane from southern Jutland, 65, just retired is doing exactly what I am doing. How cool is that! We found a cafe by the harbor and had lunch together with a celebratory beer.  We rode to a nearby campsite, checked in and set up our tents.  An apple tree was at our site where I was able pick several ripe apples.  We hit it off and will ride together tomorrow.  Forty miles ridden, feeling great and now a riding buddy to hang with.

Good day, sunshine

   Rained all night but the sun shined all day,  I took the bike in for repairs in the rented the van. Helping matters, I feel much better to extent of treating myself to some fine French dining: half a carafe of vin rouge, goat cheese salad, Salmon with yellow rice, chocolate mousse avec passion fruit ice cream  and ending with some local apricot brandy.  Let me not forget the French bread.
       Apart from fixing the bike, I schlepped to the laundramatique and took in some city sites.  A lot of speciality food shops and great looking brick building. I could hang out for a week at this place, no problem. I noticed the realestate prices are up there.
    My bags are packed and let's hope, the machine and me are one tomorrow. No destination in mind, just heading west along the coast.

I should taken my French classes more seriously

      Today in Eu, France just a kilometer out side of Le Treport, I started with a pre-dawn visit to the ER room two blocks away.  Loaded up with meds, I eventually found my way to INTERSPORT, no help from my GPS.  The bike mechanic said I would have to schlepp to Abbeville for a new derailleur and chained at their other store. No wheels and little French left me in a bind as to how I could get the repair done.  Thank the almighty, I found an English speaking person who rents space at the hostel. Charlotte arrange for the hostel manage to drive me to a car rental place where I picked up a Mimi van.  By 9:00 I will be at the bike store to get the job done.  All part of the adventure of living on the edge: wind, rain, cold, mechanical failure and health all in less than a week has toughened the kid up.  I will just carry on, enjoy the ride and duck and cover when necessary.  I like the challenge and it keeps me from softening up and being amongst the American masses who have lost their adventuresome spirit. Another day at Louis XIV chateau before
I push onward. If it does not rain, I will be disappointed.  Like steep hills, I have learned to love the pain.

The gods are paying attention

  Cycled out of Boulogre-sur-mer around 11:00. Late start but a beautiful day, no wind, no rain, sun shining, and the temperature is moderately. Leaving Boulogre-sur-mer, I thought I would try for
Le Tréport.  Suspect of relying on my GPS, I was able to stay on a good road with not too many hairbrain turns.  These system needs to supervised and overridden by one's basic sense of direction.
I should have had a map of Belgium and northeast France. An oversite that has cost me.
      Mile after mile, enjoying the landscaped with only a few steep hills (walkers).  I stopped after thirty-three miles and luncheoned while sitting on the stone base of good size, roadside stone crucifix.  I asked politely before talking a seat.  So after seventy miles with miles of bike path along the way , I arrived at the Le Tréport tourist information, 6:18.  (By the way, France is years ahead of the USA when it comes to bike pathway.) Here is where the day went from idyllic to real bad.  The GPS screwed me once more. Across town for nothing. I called the auberge/hostel for directions to no avail. The manager's English was non existent, worse than my French! As I was taking another route to find the hostel, suddenly my chain and derailleur snapped off.  This can't be happening!  At least it didn't happen out the pokey. I guess someone was looking out for me. So the big push began and I didn't trust my GPS.   It appeared I was walking out of town. Just great, the sun is setting and I haven't a clue if I am heading in the right direction.  Pushing eighty-five pounds of bike and gea, it gets old real fast.  A man at the front desk of a small casino drew a map which final brought me to the auberge, tired and frustrated.  The building was part of Louis XV former residences.  Quite the brick structure which was converted into a hostel, an amazing place. As for the manager, this is the first auberge where no one spoke English.  With people coming from all over the world and English being the international language, it was the wrong person for the job.
    Then came the soar throat.  For a day, it had been coming on.  Suddenly, I could barely swallow withou severe pain. Around 5:30 I got up and managed to find the nearby hospital.  No one there, including the doctor, could speak a word of English. This town is quaint but very providential. The doc and I communicated via our translation apps. He checked me for strep throat. The test came out negative so he wrote out a prescription for several meds.  So off to the pharmacy and the bike shop. I will be here today and probably tomorrow.  Are we having fun yet?
   

Dodging the rain through beautiful countryside

      Yesterday was a Long circuitous ride, trying to bypass Calais.  I woke up to pouring rain and considered holding off another day, however, the show must do on.  The rain stopped, at least for a while, and found my way out of town. Seven miles down the road, the skies opened up.  Fortunately, I found a plexiglass covered bus stop right across the street.  Waited an hour and continue.  My GPS on the bicycle setting took me through the countryside on the most tranquil tiny roads.  The only hassle here is the route was hard to follow and added on several miles more of riding.  The cow manure was omnipotent and the people friendly. The word 'Provincial' was derived out here!  No one spoke a word of English and they looked at me, with all my gear,  like I was ET.  With thirty miles behind me and in need of sustenance, I found another covered bus stop just as the skies opened up again.  Someone was watching out for me.  On the road again, my last twenty-seven miles seemed to get more circuitous.  The damn app led me onto a dirt road which was virtually impassable.  The bike got buried in mud and I ended up pushing for 900 meters.  Ok enough, I just wanted to get to Boulogre-sue-mer.  I should have stayed on a major R road but I stayed with the GPS.  This app leaves a lot to be desired when it comes to getting in an out of cities. Exhausted, at long last, I found a  hostel. In the city it was a well kept secret and my poor French speaking abilities mad it worse. The receptionist found a bucket and brush whereupon I scrubbed mounds of dried mud off my bike.  Lesson learned: know when to follow the sun and rely less on the GPS. The maps I have come into play just down the road.   Today, I have my sites set on Le Treport.   Let's hope for a direct route with nice scenery and fewer wrong turns.  Alas, the sun is shining!

Saw the movie 'Dunkirk' in Dunkirk, France

    The agenda of day was to recharge and checking out the rebuilt city of Dunkirk. My hostel/auberge is a wonder, large modern building apart from the congestion of the city, next to the beach; a room to myself, basic but a beautiful view.  Rode around city doing various errands, one of which was to buy a skull cap to fit under my helmet for warmth.  Next, I stripped down my bike and rode out onto the harbor quays to get a feel for what happened in 1940.  This evening I took in the movie 'Dunkirk'.  A few hours before, I stood on the spot where the admiral stood during the movie.  It was a powerful movie.
    Considered the city was destroyed during the war, it is remarkable how nice the city is now.   Modern architecture side by side with the traditional structures.  Plenty of culture and a stunning view of the beaches and the English Channel.  Squinting, I could just barely see the English coast. So close but so far during the war.
      Check out time is early and rain is expected. Perhaps, the wind gods will spare me. Wind and rain are a bad combination on a bicycle.  The show must go on.