France
Bourgogne-Franche-Comté

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    • Day 134

      An der Saône

      March 5, 2022 in France ⋅ ☀️ 8 °C

      Es ging am äußeren Ring um Lyon, vorbei an Boug en Bresse, durch eine ländliche Idylle.
      Da schau:"wieder grüne Wiesen und echte Bauernhöfe!" Das haben wir ja schon lange nicht mehr gesehen! Fast wie Zuhause😊

      So stehen wir jetzt direkt an der Saône mit freien Blick auf den breiten Fluss. Irgendwie ein wenig wie am NOK, nur die dicken Pötte🚢 fehlen!😅

      Die Sonne scheint, aber es ist frostig kalt! So ein richtig schönes Winterwetter halt........,das sind wir aber nun garnicht mehr gewohnt. Heute Nacht hab ich echt gefroren und mir die Heizung angemacht 🥶

      Ich starte trotzdem, so gegen Mittag, noch eine kleine Erkundungstour! Günther bleibt da lieber im Womoheim......was soll ich dazu sagen?🤷‍♀️.......Ihm war der Wind zu kalt und da denkt man die Nordfriesen sind hart im Nehmen🤣
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    • Day 3

      Dienstag Mâcon

      March 15, 2022 in France ⋅ 🌙 14 °C

      Die luxemburgische Flagge wird bei Nieselregen durch die Französische abgelöst. Luxemburg liegt im Kielwasser unseres blitzenden Gespanns. Blitzendes Gespann?? Das war es bis 10:00 Uhr. In Frankreich empfängt uns ein so genannter "Blutregen". Die Luft wabbert im Saharastaub und leicht tröpfelnder Regen wäscht ihn auf unser Gespann. Unser Wohnwagen sieht aus, als wäre er mit einer Nikotinschicht ummantelt und um 100 Jahre gealtert. Ruckzuck ist der Waschbehälter leergesaugt. Gebete um Starkregen werden nicht erhört und ich frage mich, ob das jemals wieder sauber wird.
      Um 15:00 Uhr erreichen wir unseren Campingplatz in Mâcon an der Saone. Er hat just im Moment, in dem wir ihn erreichten, geöffnet und wir sind die ersten Touristen. Ein finanzieller Vorteil blieb uns aber verwehrt. Auch hier machten wir im letzten Jahr eine Rast mit "White Cloud" und ein Fussweg durch die Altstadt ließen Erinnerungen Revue passieren.
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    • Day 2

      Besançon

      March 19, 2022 in France ⋅ ⛅ 13 °C

      Sind heute von Trier bis Besançon gefahren... mit einem Zwischenstopp in Luxemburg zum Tanken und Kaffee kaufen. ☕️
      Die N57 ist fast durchgängig vierspurig und lässt sich so entspannt fahren, dass wir ungestört die hügelige Landschaft der Vogesen genießen können.
      Unser Stellplatz nahe der Altstadt liegt direkt am Fluss Doubs, der sich in einer üppigen Schleife durch Besançon windet.
      Morgen geht's weiter Richtung Lyon und Avignon, mal schauen, wo wir hängen bleiben. In Spanien regnet es noch immer, wir können uns also Zeit lassen.
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    • Day 3

      Na ja…

      April 1, 2022 in France ⋅ 🌧 2 °C

      …so haben wir uns, unseren Bulli-Roadtrip-Start nicht wirklich vorgestellt so nach den letzten paar traumhaften Frühlingswochen, sonst hätten wir uns wohl für die Wintervariante entschieden 🥶… aber jänu; es kann nur besser werden & das Burgund haben wir trotzdem einwandfrei mit etwas “kalt haben” erreicht.Read more

    • Day 2

      Givry

      April 20, 2022 in France ⋅ ☁️ 18 °C

      Heute wollten wir wieder ein Stück in Richtung Süden kommen und haben ordentlich Kilometer gemacht.
      Da uns der Platz in Givry schon letzten Herbst ganz gut gefallen hat, haben wir ihn auch heute wieder angesteuert.
      Nicht nur das Städtchen ist einen Spaziergang wert auch die dortige Chocolatiers muss man unbedingt besucht haben. Wir haben natürlich dort wieder eingekauft. 😋😋
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    • Day 2

      Besancon

      June 3, 2022 in France ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C

      Wir haben, trotz oder wegen dem lauten Parkplatz, bis nach halb neun geschlafen. Dann Kaffee getrunken und Richtung Citadelle und Zoo marschiert. Auf Grund unseres fortgeschrittenen Alters haben wir im Anblick des Berges aufgegeben und uns dazu entschieden einen Kaffee zu trinken und dann mit dem Womo zum Zoo zu fahren.
      Der Park(Stell)platz hat nur 3,7o€ gekostet. Für den Preis ist das sehr in Ordnung.
      Dann sind wir weiter Richtung Lyon gefahren. Das war kein Problem, nicht einmal verfahren und mit Einkaufen aufgelockert. Durch Lyon ging's auch ohne verfahren, aber es kam ein Stau nach dem anderen. Das nervte etwas und wir waren froh auf dem Weg einen Schlafplatz zu finden.
      Jetzt stehen wir an einer Waschanlage mit Ver- und Entsorgung. Übernachten ist hier geduldet. Morgen können wir gleich das Womo waschen.
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    • Day 51

      Day 48 - Pontarlier to Jougne

      June 7, 2023 in France ⋅ ⛅ 21 °C

      It's my last night in France, and my guidebook says that I am 1026 km from Canterbury. Over the past 46 days, I have followed the GR145 (Grande Randonnée) from beginning to end: Calais to Jougne. I have had the privilege to see and touch structures from the ancient Roman civilisation; I have taken the exact same routes as those used by Joan of Arc, King Henry IV, and the Knights Templar; I have passed through Napoleonic battlefields; I have gained a deeper appreciation of the unbelievable sacrifice made by the soldiers in WWI; and I've glimpsed the tragedy of the loss of Commonwealth flyers in WWII; I have crossed and walked beside streams, creeks, rivers, lakes and canals; I have walked through mile after mile of cultivated fields, seen more agricultural machinery than ever before, and walked through woodland and forests of all descriptions, with birds hopping, flying and calling all around me; I have seen more animals, domestic and wild, than I could have imagined; I have walked through hamlets, villages, towns and cities. I have seen countless churches and been lucky enough to get inside quite a few. The French people have been kind and friendly (sometimes calling out bon courage, "good luck" as I've passed by) and far more tolerant of my limited French and appalling pronunciation than I could ever have expected. Every pilgrim and traveller I have encountered have been the same. Have I managed this without complaint? Of course not. But I have done it, mindful of my circumstances, and how lucky I am to be here. P.S. the animal is a chamois. My host says they are no longer afraid of humans.Read more

    • Day 34

      Letzter Stopp - Dole, France

      September 6, 2019 in France ⋅ ⛅ 20 °C

      Um 12 Uhr haben wir den idyllischen Waldcampingplatz am Pont du Gard verlassen.

      Für unsere vorletzte Etappe müssen wir 440 km fahren. Heute merkt man den Rückreiseverkehr der Bayern und Baden-Württemberger - die Schulferien gehen zu Ende und somit haben wohl die Letzten die Rückreise angetreten.

      Im großen und ganzen läuft es aber auf der französischen Autobahn ganz flüssig - der teilweise starke Wind ist da eher das Problem!

      Um 17:30 Uhr kommen wir gut in Dole an - genau hier auf dem großen Parkplatz haben wir auch den ersten Halt (Pause) bei unserer Reise gemacht. Heute werden wir hier übernachten, um morgen in aller Frische die letzten 400 km in die Heimat antreten zu können.

      Nach einer schönen Gassirunde machen wir noch einen schönen Spaziergang durch Dole.

      Dole ist wirklich sehenswert und auch einen Zwischenstopp wert. Wer nicht frei auf dem Parkplatz stehen möchte, kann auch den kleinen Campingplatz direkt um die Ecke am Kanal vorbei, benutzen.

      Dole ist die Stadt der Kunst und der Geschichte, Dole bildet eine harmonische Gesamtheit mit ihren Kanälen, ihren alten Häusern und ihrer Stiftskirche die das Ganze überragt. Das historische Zentrum von Dole, besonders bewahrt, steht unter Denkmalschutz. Sehr romantisch, die kleine Promenade welche den Kanal Tanneurs entlanggeht, ermuntert zum Schlendern.
      Es ist in diesem Viertel wo 1822 Louis Pasteur geboren wurde, Entdecker des Tollwut Impfstoff. Das Geburtshaus von Pasteur ist jetzt ein Museum welches das Leben und das wissenschaftliche Werk des berühmten Wissenschaftlers schildert

      Wir waren wirklich von den schönen Kaffees, Gaststätten und den kleinen Gassen und Kanälen beeindruckt.

      Im Womo verbringen wir dann noch einen gemütlichen Video Abend 😎
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    • Day 20

      Trains, Trains and more Trains

      September 9, 2019 in France ⋅ ☁️ 16 °C

      Although there is no doubt we had all thoroughly enjoyed our time in Aigues Mortes, after two days of relative inactivity, we were starting to get itchy feet (and I am not referring to the tinea commonly experienced by some other travellers). We actually were ready to resume our cycling. The only problem was that first we had to traverse about 600 km of France to reach Nevers where we were to begin our ride along the Loire River.

      When I was putting this trip together I thought that it would be a good idea to include a couple of day's break between the end of section one and the start of section two. This turned out to be a very wise move as we discovered that it is basically impossible to get out of Aigues Mortes at the week end.

      Although there is a train station at Aigues Mortes, the long grass growing up between the rails is clear evidence that the line is not exactly frequently traversed by trains. In fact we found that the 11:52 am train to Nimes is basically the only option and it only runs on weekdays.

      In order to make our way to Nevers we would have to somehow negotiate a complex sequence of train connections and a glitch in any one of the these connections could have potentially disastrous consequences.

      The long odyssey began with a walking peloton from our hotel to the station. We piled our mountain of luggage in a strategic position and waited for the train to arrive. When it did finally roll into the station, we were horrified to find that it was more like a bus than a train. It only had one carriage and that was already filled with passengers from the previous station.

      We had no choice other than to resort to brute force. Fifteen elderly Ghostriders jammed cases into every available space (mostly in the middle of the single aisle) and then tried to find a place to stand. I spent the next 30 minutes balanced on one leg and trying to avoid falling into the pram that was pressed against my other leg. To make matters worse, the airconditioning was almost non existent and the temperature was soon soaring. It was not a pleasant start to a long journey.

      When we arrived at Nimes we all were exceedingly glad to be free of the train. Since we had a 90 minute gap before the next train was due, we took the opportunity to get something to eat for lunch. The next train would be a first class ride to Dijon. At least we would look forward to reserved seats. The only problem was that, when we reached the platform we were told that the "train was retarded". That was not the news we wanted to hear, especially as we only had a 20 minute break at Dijon before we had to catch the final train to Nevers.

      Our train was indeed retarded and became more so as the trip progressed. Although the scenery was absolutely glorious, I was too stressed to really enjoy it. It was soon obvious that we would have no hope of catching our third connection and I had horrific visions of having to spend the entire night sleeping on the railway platform, surrounded by our luggage. At least the wifi on the train was excellent, easily the best we had experienced in our entire trip so far.

      Of course we arrived at Dijon, just in time to see the train we wanted to catch, disappear into the distance. This could have been catastrophic, but we did discover that there was a second train due to leave in about 40 minutes time. At least it looked like we would be able to reach our hotel, but probably too late for dinner.

      Although it had not gone exactly to plan, we were delighted to discover that the train to Nevers was almost empty. We spread out over an entire carriage and started to misbehave terribly. It had been a very long day in transit and the combination of stress and sugar was starting to make the group act like kids at a red cordial fuelled birthday party. The few remaining locals in the carriage soon departed for other quieter parts of the train.

      We finally rolled into Nevers at about 8 pm. The light was fading and the temperature was dropping as we rolled our cases up the deserted main street to the Best Western Hotel de Diane. I was relieved to find that the hotel reception was still waiting for us and they informed us that we had not missed our dinner after all.

      We were even happier to find that the rooms were amazing - large, clean and comfortable. Best of all was the fact that the dinner was absolutely superb. As each dish was presented to us, we relished every mouthful. The benchmark for dining has now been set at an absurdly high level. It had been quite a day. Tomorrow we will be back on the bikes again.
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    • Day 21

      On the Road Again

      September 10, 2019 in France ⋅ 🌙 15 °C

      After our three days of relative inactivity (actually disorganised mayhem), it was time to resume our cycling. After all, that was why we had come all this way to the far side of the planet.

      Before we could start riding we first had to get bikes. That is sort of a basic fact of the universe. But there was a problem, There often is. I received a phone call informing me that the man who was bringing the bikes from Blois was stuck in thick traffic and would be "retarded by at least an hour". We would have to adapt Plan B.

      We had read that there was an amazing market in Nevers that was really worth seeing. A little further research showed that it was apparently close to our hotel. I therefore suggested to our riders that they might like to have a look at the market first, and then get the bikes later. Before I had finished my sentence, the women were already out the door looking for the market and an opportunity to spend money.

      About 45 minutes later I thought I might as well have a look as well. The bikes still had not arrived and the hotel foyer was getting a little boring. I had not walked far when I found Carol and Sam walking back towards me. They were devastated. They had not been able to find the market. Obviously life can not get much wore than this. On further investigation, I found that they had actually walked right past the front door. I had to admit that it was a little underwhelming as it was only a food market and most of the stalls were still locked. There were none of those exciting stalls where women could buy Chinese knock offs at inflated prices. What a letdown.

      The big bike delivery van finally arrived about 10 am and the driver slowly and carefully unloaded all 16 bikes. He did not want help as he wanted to do it his way. About 30 minutes later the bikes were unloaded and then began the familiar process of each rider finding their allocated bike and assessing its suitability. I had been in this position many times before and always find it stressful.

      "My bike's too big", "My bike's too small", "Mine is the wrong colour for my shirt", "I won't ride a ladies bike", "I didn't know we had to ride bikes", "My handlebars are too pointy", "My seat's all funny", "My bottom is hurting already", "How do you change gears ?", "What are gears for anyway ?", "I don't want a pannier", "I want more panniers", "I want lunch".

      It went on and on. It's not easy trying to set up 16 elderly citizens with walking frames, let alone with bicycles. After every single bike was adjusted, poked, asssessed and decorated with ribbons, we were finally ready to go.

      Our peloton slowly wobbled down the main street, watched by numerous bemused locals. We somehow made it to the old city without too much incident, but then stumbled into a complicated sequence of staircases. We had to manhandle all the bikes down the stairs, at times coming close to destroying a couple of the ebikes. It was not an an auspicious start to the ride.

      We finally left the city by crossing the bridge over the Loire. We were on our way at last. Actually we were on the wrong way. I had made a small error of navigation and was leading the group in the opposite direction. I quickly realised my error, the group U turned and we found the correct route.

      What followed next was a beautiful bike path, right alongside a shady canal. This was just the type of riding that we all adored. It was what we needed to settle our nerves after the stress of the morning. You can imagine my joy when I spied a lovely cafe, right on the bank of the canal.

      "This looks like a suitable coffee stop", I yelled.
      "But we have only been riding for 10 minutes", someone commented.
      "We have no idea when the next opportunity will be", I countered.

      Since no one could fault my logic, we all parked the bikes. Actually we spread them all over the precinct in a random array of unlocked vehicles. Arie was no longer here to dictate that all be parked in a precise line with locks and chains galore. We just needed coffee.

      It was now after 12 noon and I think that everyone was happy to sit and enjoy the surroundings. We also took a new group photo to immortalise the occasion. Our adventure on the Loire was now officially underway.

      We never did find another place to buy our baguette lunch. Well actually we did, but they had none left. We rode the remaining 45km on empty stomachs. Fortunately the scenery was absolutely superb - a never ending sequence of canals, locks, tiny flowered villages and quiet bike paths.

      The highlight was the Pont de Canal, an amazing sight which allows the Canal of the Loire to cross the Allier River. It would even have been more amazing to see a barge crossing the Pont, but the canal was deserted. The huge lock at the end had gates which must have been 10 metres high and they were decorated with colourful flowers. From the side, the structure almost looked like the huge Roman Pont du Gard, that we had ridden past in Provence. In nature it would be highly unusual to see two rivers crossing each other !

      By the late afternoon a steady head wind had developed. It was nowhere near as strong as the Mistral we had endured in Provence, but on empty stomachs it was a challenge. Our first view of Charite Sur Loire was a memorable one, cameras were produced and pictures were taken.

      The final kilometre to our hotel involved a long walking peloton through the ancient town. Our hotel was the quaint "Thousand and One Books" hotel. Every inch of the place had been decorated in a literary theme. The staircases were about 30 cm wide and there was no lift. It was going to be the pitstop for the first day of our Loire Ride.

      Our evening meal was at the restaurant attached to the hotel, so we did not have to walk far. Once again the food was glorious. It had been the first time most of us had eaten since breakfast in Nevers.
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    You might also know this place by the following names:

    Bourgogne-Franche-Comté, Bourgogne-Franche-Comte, Borgogna-Franca Contea

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