'More from France'

Brittany was wonderful, camping under Mont Saint Michel and staying with Catherine and Philipe. Catherine had travelled the globe on her little Yamaha DT125 in the late 80s. What a different experience I'll have being male and on a 750cc bike... and of course the internet. The latter we both thought would be a big difference.

Catherine took me to a local village, Nixon, where there was a meeting to discuss the annual Hang'art event. A free to all event where local artists and clubs and anyone prepares various cabins or huts in the local wood for others to visit and explore. Even the local painting artists hang various Andy Warhol pieces in the woods too. It was interesting and I was invited to stay for the celebration sandwiches and drinks.

Although the speeches seem to go on and on - I guess because I could not understand them - the care that had gone into laying out the sandwiches and nibbles was astounding they were a work of art in themselves!

After the nibbles were started two local guys struck up on a guitar and an accordian. So I did manage to seek a dance with an Italian lady but was told I needed to be more 'latino' and it was only a waltz! Got talking to one of the organisers who farmed wheat, barley and maize with a 110 head of Limosine cattle locally and a mighty fine 1300kg bull he was proud of - I know as he showed me a photo of it. Well, following the evening there is now a reduced painting making its way to Modena so I can take it with me and have it stamped at various border crossings. This being a tradition the group have done with a couple of round the world skippers but never a biker before.

Sunday, being a bit dull and with very low tides, meant we could not go canoeing, so we went to visit a couple of local towns, Pont Aven and Concarneau, although you may not find these on a map as, like Wales, Brittany has its own language, and is most definitely not French (like Wales is not English!) We returned to the house in time for the France-Georgia rugby match. This was the first rugby match I've ever watched so Catherine kindly explained the rules. It was fun to watch but more because of the wild reaction of Vanille, (Catherine's dog) whenever a try happened and Catherine and Philipe voiced their excitement.

The next day I was up bright and early ready to do some serious miles, only trouble was the weather was not up bright and early and instead a very dense blanket of mist had me travelling along at 10mph with my glasses on for the first few miles.

As the weather picked up I was able to gather speed and covered over 450miles which meant refuelling 3 times. Something I've not done before. Although, not a great average speed as the lack of road numbers on the direction signs in the big towns meant I would often fail to find my way out (have already prepared in my head a letter to the French Minstry of Road Signage suggesting they visit Angletere!) The roads were pretty dull through this part of the country but I did pass a field of Oil Seed Rape in full yellow plumage which seemed strange for October.

Monday ended the way it started with me, the bike and my gear getting a massive soaking under a thunderstorm. So bad I had no choice but to stop in it on the hard shoulder as I could not see my way forward. Hence I made the what turned about to be an expensive decision, not to camp for the night, but failing to find a B & B, I ended up staying in a small hotel. A quick reckoning showed that at the end of the first day of the month I'd spent over a quarter of my monthly budget - gonna be tough not to eat into my savings quickly.

Tuesday was spent riding some much better roads in much better weather heading down to Millau as I wanted to see the Viaduc de Millau. Arriving in Millau only one of the campsites was open all the rest having shut for the winter. With so much riding and being roughly back on schedule to make Monza on Sunday I decided to have a day off from travelling but not really a rest day as by 7.30am I was riding up the side of the valley so I could watch the sunrise onto the viaduct. Having come all this way it seemed silly not to go for a ride on it so after a 10k ride south to the next junction I returned North over the bridge and yes it is impressive although I did wonder if those with a lack of head for heights would feel comfortable if they'd visited the viewing point before crossing.

Visiting the viewing point was the highlight of the day as not only could I see the bridge and learn that they had pushed the road out from both sides to meet in the middle with only 1cm difference but there was also a beautiful majestic eagle soaring both under and over me. Millau as far as I could assertain from my walking tour is famous for the leather gloves from the Gause factory and it also seems to be the top haircut town of France where even the patteries are out numbered by 'coiffure' establishments.

Day 21 Millau through the Gorges du Tarn to Vallon Pont de Arc
44'24.409,4'23.679 219km

Leaving Millau on the D907 to ride up through the Gorges du Tarn I stop to eat my usual morning fruit in a picnic spot which turns out to be the Republica Democraturica di Baume with a population of 1 half human, 2 cats and 27 mice but rapidly falling. It seems the republica aka the picnic spot is a great base for climbers and with a huge overhanging rock face I can see why. A sleeping bag, a tent, various ghetto blasters and a old red telephone seem to be the only infrastructure of the republica though.

The Gorges du Tarn is a wonderful location seemingly perfect for camping, canoeing, rafting and kayaking or so the signs say. It certainly is very picturesque as I bimble along at 30mph admiring the view of the sheer rock faces overhanging the Tarn river. There is no-one around yet it is perfect day around 23deg with a clear blue sky just cool enough to have a nice breeze as I ride. It strikes me it would be a wonderful area to make love, so fresh, clean and peaceful, but as that is not on the agenda I ride on. The Tarn river is so clear that even from the road 20m above I can clearly see fish swimming in its depths of blue. Certainly a place I would return to for an activity holiday location and one I'm sure my Chipping Norton friends, Tony and Myriam would enjoy in their camper van.

At 4pm I had just covered only 100 miles but my arms ache from the many many corners and hairpins. Great roads, but by then I was running late to get to a destination where camping might be possible again. Philipe did say it would take me a whole day to do this stretch and it did but it was well worth it. Coming over the other side of the mountain I came down into a wine growing region with very different feeling to it. More open, straighter roads and quite hot after being in the clouds early. On one corner over looking the valley I find another biker parked so stopped to quiz him about campsites. A pleasant tall bald German he said he knew of two biker only hotels but no camping. Unfortunately the hotels were not on my route as they would have been worth a visit. So I ask a local Office de Tourism in one of the towns I pass through to confirm campsites would be open near Vallon Pont de Arc. There was at least one open according to the brouchure for that area so I rode on with confidence as it was now approaching 6pm.

Arriving in Vallon Pont de Arc I have to do a few laps of the town to find the open campsite but as usual it was down by the riverside. That place must be mad in the summer with many campsites and canoeing points. I really fancied a steak having had breakfast cereal for lunch on top of the hills. So rode back out the campsite, a surprise to the other campers, and into town. Well I guess the town is very tourist dependent seeing as most of the restaurants were shut too. In the end I settle for a small candle lit establishment up the backstreets and where I had the whole place to myself. As I enjoyed a mixed salad and steak I continued to read Ted Simon's Dreaming of Jupiter, his follow up to Jupiter's Travels and a must read for any wannabe motorcycle traveller. But he gives no tips on travelling on a budget as yet again I was over mine. The bike is running sweet as ever with only the dash problem that it picked up after very heavy rain in Mont St Michel, where the indicator warning lights remain on all the time, and likewise the high beam warning light except when I actually put it onto high beam. A quick search on the VFR Forum indicated this was caused by corrision getting into the PCB at the back of the clocks, so the aim is when I meet Matt from the VFR Forum in Italy to strip the bike top fairings off and solder a jump lead across the broken track.

As I finish my morning consitutions and am preparing to get on my bike a friendly German guy comes over. After a quick chat about my plans, i.e. To have no plan and just ask people what to see locally, he gives me a tip for Italy, namely Fiesole near Firenze, and then goes on to say I must see the Pont Du Arc which the town is named after, which seemed fair enough. It is the only naturally formed arc with a living river under it and really quite a site of pure beauty enhanced by the fact there is only me to enjoy the serenity of it. Well until a tourist bus stops by, the first I have encountered on my trip so far.

Through Gorges de l'Ardeche and once more the sights are amazing as the road winds along the mountain with the river deep in the valley below. So amazing I get tired just from getting on and off the bike taking photos. At one of the viewing points I can see the prehistoric rock face and ancient looking trees surrounding the river and in the hazy distance just a hint of modern civilization. It would make a great picture with a high res camera. Some of the views it would be nice to share with a loved one and I have found writing these notes my route to sharing. So although you do not yet know it you are here with me climbling eastwards. It is only a shame you manifest yourself as a mobile phone and not a shapely young woman.

Coming off the mountains I'm now into the olive groves region and here like central France the villages I pass through seem derelict and left to ruin. With the buildings and houses needing plenty of attention as they stand all shuttered up, often there will be a dusty old Renault or Citroen van parked on a pavement but no life at all to be seen.

Day 22 Vallon Pont de Arc to Gap
44'34.829, 6'05.009 226km

Ended day at Gap. Gawd knows how the French say that given the last constanant is not sounded so I guess it must be 'ga' as in 'gaga'. The campsite is huge and very posh, well it has English loos. There are three of us here; a German caravan couple who were singing to their laptop when I asked them which showers were warm, and a New Zealand couple in a Ford Transit touring Europe. This day the website went live and a big thanks to my long time dear friend Kit to take the idea and deliver it most masterfully.