Day 10 - Tuesday 21st September, 2010
Marseille-les-Aubigny > Dompierre-san-Besbre
65.9 miles
6:05 moving time, 10.8 mph moving average
It felt amazing waking up in a Chateau. I got up early and snapped the sunrise from the window. There's some fog in the distance - probably from the canal and the Loire.
What a view to wake up to
Breakfast is amazing. It's prepared by the owners and served in the house in a very grand dining room. We realise that the man who met us last night is actually the owner, and he and his wife live here - having inherited the property many years ago. The B&B pays for some of the renovations and upkeep, and according to them they've still got a long way to go. It's quite hard work for them as they've been at it for 31 years already. But that's in their part of the house - where we've been staying, and where we're now eating, is amazing. It truly has to be the best value stay we've had, and one of the best value stays I've ever had in Europe.
John says farewell to our host
After a little chat, and having piled in as much food as we could (there was still more if we wanted it) we get on our way. John's tyre's flat as it turns out - must be a slow puncture - so we decide to pump it up and head to the canal where we ate last night. I can buy supplies while he investigates/fixes.
We hadn't even gone half a mile before we were back at the village - by the canal and pizza place from last night - but as soon as I started pedalling I knew something wasn't quite right with my body today. I literally felt like I had no energy whatsoever, and my legs just didn't seem to be my own. I could barely will them to turn the pedals, and even a slight incline seemed hard. Uh oh. This is going to be fun.
The fog layer's amazing
I head over the canal to grab some supplies while John sets up workshop at a picnic bench.
Loaded with a few food supplies, I see the Swiss couple we met in Jargeau coming towards me. They stop and say hello, and wave to John across the water. At that moment there's a really loud, bang - sounds like a gun's gone off. The Swiss man looks over at John holding the wheel, laughs, and says "And he starts again". Having repaired the inner tube there was still a problem and it blew when pumped up. The Swiss couple celebrated their half way point last night, and went on their way looking very cheery and pleased with themselves. We wished them well.
Bike mechanic's temporary HQ
John wasn't the least bit amused, and says that it was REALLY loud where he was standing! There might be a bit of temporary hearing loss. Thankfully we've got a couple of inner tubes between us, but he decides to get a patch on the original tube to preserve the last new one. It seems to hold, finally, but it looks like the tyre's shot - it's old and really loose on the rim. Ooops, we ain't got a spare one of those. John's a bit concerned about it, but we don't have any choice but to ride on it. We haven't seen a single bike shop on the whole trip. Apart from in Paris on the last trip (and we had to hunt for it), we haven't seen a single bike shop in France. So things aren't looking too good for finding a replacement.
The lack of bike shops has been another real surprise and mystery considering how big cycling is (or was) in France.
The boating types head to the lock
Wheel sorted, and me thankful for the slow start, we move on.
I'm in trouble. I literally don't know how I'm going to get through today. Considering how little we've done, I feel quite emotional about the situation already. I'm really struggling but I don't want to hold us up either, as John seems fine.
It's hard to describe how I feel as I ride, but I am totally and utterly power-less. Sapped of any energy and therefore enthusiasm. I really have to grit my teeth and am not enjoying it at all.
It's a hot day now, and the scenery is lovely, but I struggle with every mile and already it's one of the worst days I've ever had on a bike. I'm barely looking at anything. I start to have a meltdown about not making it to the end.
After lunch by the canal, our time along the Loire has come to an end, which has an extra emotional impact. I thought it was amazing and am sad to say goodbye to it. I'll come back and do the whole thing another time I think to myself. As we break away from the river, the countryside changes to a slightly rolling hills. I couldn't have wished for a worse day for this to come.
I've never experienced anything like this before. The bike seems to weigh a tonne, and it's like I'm not in my own body.
I totally lose my sense of humour at this point, or at least the part I had left. I'm not happy. This is now a real chore and there are even a couple of points where I feel a few tears trying to escape. I try and grit my teeth and get on with it. Now into a light headwind and thinking of the end. Unfortunately for John, I'm starting to moan about it. I think I'm driving him a bit mad, but it's not deliberate. Suddenly I'm hating this trip.
Things are very rural again now. It's beautiful but in the heat and climbs we've ended up running out of water again. How did we let it happen?
There are so few shops in villages around here, and we're feeling pretty dehydrated.
Finally we call into a town hall and ask if the lady knows when the local shop will be open. She even comes out and has a quick look with us but she thinks maybe he's closed for the afternoon. Like an angel, she offers us a refill form the kitchen behind her office, and we gladly accept. It's ice cold too and we can't get enough.
There's also a slightly rundown freestanding toilet facility built in the square - which seems totally out of place for this pretty village - but it comes in very handy.
I've had a bit on my mind the last few days. I've been worried about getting to the end - not because of fitness (at least up until this morning) - but because I was always locked into an end date to go to one of my best friends wedding in Scotland. With the various delays in setting off, it's made the timing very tight. Pretty much no days off for the rest of the trip, and harder days too.
I could head back at Grenoble if running out of time but we both really wanted to do the Alps - in fact that's the key part of the trip for us. Cutting a section and 'cheating' on the train is sort of an option, but that starves John of the chance to do the whole trip, and it was sort of his idea so it doesn't really seem fair. There's still a possibility I can make it, but I just don't want to be stuck somewhere between Grenoble and Cannes in the middle of the Alps, and then realise I don't have time to finish. Getting back to the UK quickly (even direct to Scotland if I had to) seems pretty impractical from the Alps. So with the timing tight already, today isn't making me feel good about it.
This worry combined with all the physical symptoms of the day has made me miserable. For the first time on this trip I need a couple of Nurofen's to keep the pedals turning.
The digging deep hit a new level of low in what's turning out to be one of our longest days, but after what seems like an eternity we finally reach our destination of Dompierre-San-Besbre. Agreeing with our guidebook, there are big signs saying the campsites are closed.
There are only a few hotels, and the first one we see right at the top of the hill looks ok. But we'd already called ahead to a different one so we head there - it sounded quite nice, and this is five Euros more expensive. It's a long freeride downhill to get to the other hotel and we know as soon as we arrive that it's going to be horrible. This town's not very nice from what we've seen either, but we're definitely not going any further. The receptionist/owner barks at us when we enter, and she's as miserable as sin as we pay to check-in. She wants the money upfront which is never a good sign. They do lock our bikes for us though.
The rooms are horrible. We consider checking out but are too tired. So we shower and head for food. I'm in a bad way so this doesn't help my mood at all. My wife has a personal trainer who was a semi-professional cyclist, so I call her and let her know what's going on and she goes off to try and get advice. I'm sure that the lack of decent food and protein is to blame, but I don't know what I can do now to fix it.
John has a falling out with the restauranteur across the road. Its packed but she says they're closing. John points out that it's pretty early and everyone's eating and the sign says they close later on, but she says they're not taking any more orders. After the standard procedure of walking the streets finding everything else closed, we end up right back at the top of the hill at the hotel we saw on arrival. It's got a decent restaurant, and it all seems really nice. We look at each other but we know there's no way we're lugging everything back up here to switch hotels.
I try and find some humour, but I really feel awful. I summons the courage to tell John that I'm not sure if I can carry on, and that I don't want him to not make it to the end so I could possibly peel off along the route if I can't keep up, and then just make my way back to the UK. I say I'll see how I am tomorrow, but anything like this and I won't be able to to do another day.
I order fish, and as much protein and other foods as I can. The food's actually French for once and is really nice. It's a bit expensive but I don't really care at this stage. I just need a proper meal.
As we walk back to the hotel local kids 'make out' on benches at the little square. Thy seem harmless, just bored I guess. And who can blame them since nothing ever seems open here.
Back at the hotel I've got a nutritional advice email come in. It seems to confirm what I was thinking. The advice includes, especially for a vegetarian, to carry protein bars as a backup. Next time. What I've eaten should cover some other stuff in the mail. Fingers crossed.
We see a couple playing chess in the communal area in our hotel hallway. They seem to be having a nice time, and I feel really bad and ungrateful.
Before going to bed, I get out all my gear. Anything that's heavy and hasn't been used much goes in the bin. Spares get thinned down, and after a quick call to check it's OK, the small but quite heavy camping stool I borrowed from my wife goes in the bin too. I stop at clothes and anything else that's expensive but won't save much weight. With everything trimmed it's a decent saving in total, and I know I'll need all the help I can get tomorrow.
65.9 miles brings our total at the end of day 10 to 440.1 miles.
Next Day
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