Orne

One of the best features of exploring a country by bicycle is that you never know how each day is going to turn out until you have lived through it. Due to the serendipity of travel, you could actually do the same trip over and over again and every single time would prove to be quite different. This fact was illustrated in yesterday's ride.

As we rode out of Belleme our legs were all weary because of the hard day of hill climbing we had experienced on the previous day. For some riders it was clear that another hill could be enough to break them into little pieces. We rode out of the Normandy Country Club in the middle of a thick fog and were immediately riding up a long hill. Oh dear. Fortunately the good night's sleep and a big evening dinner had replenished their energy and no one was complaining. At least not yet.

We stopped for a little while to explore and photograph the beautiful town centre and then pedalled off on our way. Up another big hill ! We soon found ourselves riding through a beautiful beech forest and we were immediately captivated by the sheer beauty of the place. While we stopped at the side of the road a passing van driver pulled over to say hello (or actually Bonjour, since he spoke not one word of English).

The next ten minutes or so were spent in a wonderful conversation where we told him that we were from Australia and that we were headed to Mont St Michel. All the while his van was parked in the middle of the road, however the traffic was non existent so it made no difference to anyone.

We finally parted with many smiles and waves and were on our way again. The simple encounter had sent everyone's spirits souring and the hills did not seem to matter any more. Even the light drizzle seemed like a blessing rather than a curse as it made the most peaceful sound as millions of drops gently fell from the branches of the trees to the forest floor.

The road rose and fell for the next few kilometres until we reached a beautiful village, filled with flowers. We dismounted and entered a wonderful little inn where there was a roaring open fire blazing on the hearth. Around the walls were dozens of antique coffee makers of every possible shape and size. The owner welcomed us warmly and kissed the hands of the ladies. His coffee cost less that $2 a cup and his smiles were free.

By 1 pm we were ready for lunch and found a delightful picnic spot by a lake. We unpacked our baguettes and made a wonderful feast of ham, cheese and tomato sandwiches. While all this was going on, Gordon's back tyre was quietly going down. This was about the fourth puncture that Gordon had suffered and he was getting a little sick of it.

We set to work at the repair and inserted the undersized spare tube into the tyre, pumped it up and started to replace it on the bike. Pfffft - it went down again. Oh dear, no more tubes of that size, but we did have some better ones of the correct size. The only problem was that they had the thicker Shraeder type valves and would not fit the rim. I had a brainwave. Why don't we drill out the hole and make it bigger ? All we need is a man with a drill. Maggie and I picked up the wheel and walked into the nearby town. There seemed to be no one around. The place was deserted. We knocked on a door, no answer.

We wandered further and eventually found a man fiddling with an ancient motorbike. "Bonjour" we said and then showed him the wheel. He smiled. We seemed in luck. He returned with a battery drill and a rusty collection of about 3 drill bits - none of them the right size. Nevertheless he was keen to help and set about destroying the rim with French enthusiasm. About 10 minutes later he had managed to enlarge the small hole to a ragged giant orifice. We thanked him and his wife profusely before shaking hands, saying Au Revoir and returning to the rest of the group. Soon the bike was reassembled and we were on our way again. Another magic moment.

Most of the afternoon's ride was on a converted train line - the so called Voie Verte (Green Way). The path took us through the dense forest of the Natural Park of Perche. For many kilometres we were able to ride without meeting any other riders. It was a great time to simply enjoy the experience. Because it was an old train line, there weren't even any hills to worry about.

Unfortunately the early morning hills had taken their toll on Carol's ebike battery and she ground to a halt with about 10 km still to go. We had no alternative other than to continue without her and then hope to arrange transport for her and her bike.

The shady Voie Verte bike path seemed to go on forever but eventually we reached Alencon and found our hotel. We explained to the owner what had happened to one of our riders and he offered to go back to collect her. All we had to do was determine where she was. When we managed to contact her on the phone, to our amazement she was only a few hundred metres from the hotel ! Somehow she had used all her powers of determination to ride the heavy bike, without a battery, into the teeth of a rising head wind and arrive only a few minutes behind the main group.

We were relieved to find our hotel was spacious and comfortable and our evening meal at the Relais D'Alsace was large enough to feed a much larger peloton. On the way back from the restaurant in the dark we had to work very hard to avoid accidentally planting our feet on one of the numerous large dog turds that were scattered liberally over the footpath. I think most of us succeeded. We retired to bed late but wonderfully satisfied.

We were also greatly buoyed by the fact that tomorrow is a rest day. It will give us a chance to explore Alencon and catch up with our pile of overdue laundry.Read more