And So To Bed

The very last day - left Le Chartres and the Hotel De France in good time, only delayed by an MG V8 owner parking in the drive to take his car's picture in the same place as so many car mags show them. Oh, and a leak from the comedy Italian exotica aka Pip's hotshot Aprilia Tuono, oops. That nearly necessitated a stop for an additional jubilee clip, but the hot engine seemed to close up the gap and things dried up.

The day started cloudy and cool, good riding conditions. Unfortunately the hotel's private fishing was closed or

I'm sure we'd have indulged...

We stopped in Vimoutiers for lunch, it was hard to find a sandwich so we had a cooked lunch instead in a classic French brasserie, filled with working men who'd have been smoking were it not for the EU wide ban. Two omelettes, two bavard grillee, all with chips ;)

Made it to Caen in good time, and basically got waved through with only a few minutes wait before getting into the boat. Jimmy was singled out for the low-flying cables whilst parking his bike, but otherwise very smooth going.

The six hours on the boat were pretty slow-going but we whiled the time away by inventing games, eating and drinking coffee. Some of us had a nap...

Which was a good plan because the boat arrived about 21.15, and then a drive in the dark home. Jim and John got back about 23.00, so a long tiring day - nice to be in one's own bed though!"

Full Circle

The view from the hotel bedroom terrace at 7 am - excellent atmosphere for the last in-France day, reflective, calm... Somewhat overcast at the start too, nice biking weather.

We are very organised now, with the whole destinations and GPS programming thing, not to mention the fag stops ("Is this a one two or three fag stop Jim, just so we know if it's worth taking our gloves off..."). At an early stop (a two fagger) John found some ripe blackberries to supplement our meagre diet, which were welcomed.

Fortunately we found a cafe in Chatelleraut, with ham and cheese baguettes to make sure we were sufficiently fuelled for the labours of the afternoon.

Jim narrowly avoided a collision with an enormous buzzard/kite/bird thing that went to fly across the road but found him in the way, swerving very aerobatically and returning to base unharmed. No picture since we were doing 50 mph at the time!

All too soon we were were back at the Hotel de France, via a very narrow road chosen by the GPS, so narrow in fact that a rural quad bike riding farm person will probably be telling the tale of his lucky escape for years to come, hopefully not forgetting his look of horror and heroic swerve!

We managed to get a bit of eating and drinking in in-between the planning of next year's roles and responsibilities and being dissed by the waiter. Probably a 10 fag stop but who's counting?

Tales Of The Riverbank

So many stories, everywhere you go...

It turns out that the Hotel L'Aygualade has been in the family for three generations, possibly four if the 19 year old at cookery school wants to carry on. Not that la patronne wanted to talk about it but maybe that was the language barrier...

We managed to leave in good time, and it wasn't raining, which was a first for the last couple of days. Hurray.

Here's the pre-lunch trace, great ride with the GPS curvy roads function doing amazing things.

Lunch in Duras, heart of the Dordogne, excellent food, experience only marred by the Brits endlessly discussing their investments at the next tables.

And then progress was made to Riberac, with Pip challenging Jim for top spot only to realise it was lonely up there, but not as lonely as John who was some distance behind! From there it was only half an hour to the Hotel Etang Des Reynats in Chancelade, with a lake in the back garden. Nice view.

And of course Lord Eric Jones, waterrat in chief, rules the waterfront, controlling the supply of remaindered bread to the craven duck population.

Whilst our intrepid motorcycle adventurers tuck into an excellent meal.

Our final tale of the riverbank concerns our waitress, an English girl, resident in France for 11 years, who came not speaking any French because she fancied living in France and learned it in 5 years! She's lived in Paris, Toulouse, Limoges, bloody Bordeaux and now Perigeux, returning to the job she had 8-9 years ago which they have finally given her as a permie. Sweet lass but struggling, we saluted her persistence and determination! And left a €20 tip, as well as a contract on Robin White, who didn't like her speaking English to him and wrote a lengthy email to her management to complain! Hard times.

A Day in the Mountains

A quiet day in the Pyrenees - what do you do??

Get the bikes out, oil the chains...

Sit on James' bike otherwise you won't be seen as appreciating it sufficiently - definitely the best bike he's ever had!

Bugger off to the local town to wait four hours for an omelette and chips or pizza...

Whilst watching the local dog attack passing trucks, not shown in picture. Then either go for a ride up

Col D'Aubisque where your bike has a very close encounter in the mist with a horse...

Or walk to Bielle and take some pictures with your DSLR which is why they're not available for the blog :(. Just imagine some typical 16-19th century French rural houses, a very impressive school house that looks like a chateau and a nifty little river with some twee bridges. Cool.