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Sunday 28th to Monday 29th June 2015 The way home Sunday I woke early and the first thought in my mind was 'where did I put the bike key?' I had locked the bike up in the hotel garage and couldn't remember where I'd put the key. What if I'd lost it, how was I going to get to the pickup point on time? It was just before 7.00 and I couldn't sleep then... I had to get up and locate the key - why didn't I bring a spare? I got up, searched all my pockets several times then emptied the panniers. Nothing so I was left hoping I'd left the key in the lock again - and happily it turned out that I had and that the bike was still there. I had breakfast, which was a reasonable French petit dejeuner, then packed up and rode to the town centre. It was still early so I sat in the shade in the cathedral cloister for an hour then went and had a look round the old town hall and adjoining buildings which were 13th century mostly, built by Archbishops.
I strolled over to the long square by the canal where they were having a market - stalls everywhere and still not a Narbonne T-shirt in sight! Plenty of Florida, New York or Manchester United ones but no local ones. I resisted the urge to sponsor the good folk of Florida and sat down at a pavement café - Le Mirabeau - for a crepe avec citron et sucre. Small but tasty. And a tea which although black was Chinese rather than Indian. It had a slightly earthy taste to it, smoky almost, and is probably an acquired taste.
After the crepe feast it was 12.15 or so so I mounted up and set off for the rendezvous. I was soon there and went into the Q Hamburger restaurant to get out of the burning heat - it was another scorchingly hot day. I met a couple from Grimsby, Dave and Jane, who were also waiting for the bus, so I chatted to them for an hour or so. They'd been on the road since 6th May or thereabouts and had managed 1700 miles which put my effort in the shade a bit. Dave had had prostate cancer but was in the clear so far, about three and a half years after his treatment. They had camped out for most of their trip.
The bus turned up a bit late but we all - more cyclists had turned up - got the bikes stowed and ourselves onto the bus. We left Narbonne about 3.10. I was in seat 42 which was on the upper level right at the back, and I was seated next to Keith, a septuagenarian who had been on the road for 28 days having left his car in a street in Dover and cycled from Dunkirk to Perpignan. Off we drove heading north. GPS: 4.5 miles from hotel to town centre and then to the pickup point. English miles: 117.8 French miles: 888.4 Monday We continued through the night, changing drivers a couple of times and occasionally stopping for a break at service stations or to pick up more passengers. A couple of mature ladies who had been cycling in Spain reported that it had reached 41 degrees in central Spain while they were there.
I dozed off from time to time through the night. My meal, vegetable lasagna, turned up at 10.00, two hours after the first meal had been served up. I was last, sitting at the back. We made the 8.00 ferry which reached Dover and disembarked at 8.30, having saved an hour by reverting to British time.
I missed my breakfast sandwich as Jason, the 4 foot 10 inch fat courier, built a bit like Oddjob, had run out of bread. Anyway we landed, drove up to the M25 and the driver dropped me and a couple off in the layby at junction 26. I loaded up, rode to Waltham Cross and then picked up the River Lea.
Then it was just following the old familiar towpath on a nice, warm day, some thin cloud, until I reached Ware. I got a passing girl to take this photo by the Ware sign on the Saracen's Head bridge.
Then it was back home to a big hug from my wonderful Trisha who'd not only knitted me a pair of socks but also made me a special welcome-home pie as a treat. Lovely. And so it was over. GPS: 15.1 miles English miles: 132.9 French miles: 888.4 Total miles cycled: 1021.3 | ||||||||||
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