Wednesday, 22 May 2019
Peter writes: The plan was to spend a week in Central France (27 April - 4 May 2019) doing some fairly modest rides while sampling
le cuisine et du vin Francais. The trip started well enough on Saturday with an enormous cooked breakfast
chez Mike CC. Then with the 3 bikes loaded atop the 340 horsepower Beamer we barrelled down to Portsmouth in no time flat and had to kick our heels before being allowed to board the SS Bretagne. We lobbed our gear into our cabins (this being an overnight crossing) and made for the restaurant
tout de suite. The first culinary challenge was to finish a four-course meal prepared by the reassuringly rotund chef aboard the ferry.
As we slipped our lines at sunset and glided past two destroyers we toasted absent friends and tucked into our
hors d'oeuvres — delicious salads and fresh vegetables with langoustines, jambons, saucissons and warm rolls. To follow this, MCC chose 'twice-cooked duck' while JR and I played safe with poached salmon. The desserts were unbelievably seductive — all eighteen of them. We showed extreme restraint in only sampling two or three each: they were chocolatey, creamy, fruity creations in exotic shapes and colours. You could certainly tell that this was a French-operated vessel...
As we plied our way into the Channel we had failed to notice the slightly rougher sea conditions. We should probably draw a veil over subsequent events. Suffice to say that the pitching and rolling got more pronounced as we downed our digestifs and finished the last of the fromages.
Overnight we endured hour after hour of rolling and crashing in our bunks as the ferry negotiated what must have been (from my humble experience) - a force 9 or 10 storm. We all admitted to feeling a 'little queasy' that night and we were collectively a sight for sore eyes as we gingerly went for our
petit dejeuner the following morning. But pretty soon afterwards we were disembarked and wending our way through the quiet streets of St Malo early on a Sunday morning.
The rest of the day remains something of a blur. Collectively, we had had very little sleep but MCC did a sterling job of maintaining his concentration on the autoroutes for the next three and a half hours or so, buoyed by Red Bull and a truly mediocre set of music CDs. We experienced no deviation, hesitation or repetition as we passed Rennes then Nantes. As signs for Bordeaux appeared we started to pay more attention to the satnav which thankfully still spoke English despite the fact that all our phones and tablets had instantly recognised the fact that we were now in Europe. After a brief stop at a motorway services area for baguettes and frites we turned off somewhere near La Roche-sur-Yon onto quieter rural roads. Our destination, le Moulin du Chemin, is near a village named Scillé (pronounced 'see-yay') which in turn is near another slightly bigger village called L'Absie, which is not too far from a town called Parthenay, which in turn is a stone's throw from Poitiers — the only place I had vaguely heard of for hundreds of miles around.
We arrived mid-afternoon barely able to keep our eyes open. Our charming hosts Peter Roche and Carolynn Grimaldi offered refreshment and showed us around. We each had our own double room with en suite. Mine was in the old part of the building and full of antique furniture and low slung beams.
Built sometime in the 16th century,
le Moulin du Chemin had been a water mill until the 1950's and is now a guest house aimed at cyclists, birdwatchers and walkers. It had been a secret social gathering place for locals during the second world war, despite the Nazi embargo on gatherings of three or more people. It is steeped in history and folklore and is set in a beautiful wooded valley with its own microclimate. By the pool grow banana plants and two kinds of palms. The gardens boast a profusion of flowers, both wild and ornamental, at this time of year, and the woods are home to a huge number of bird species.
Meadow near Le Moulin
There is an evening ritual at le Moulin which we didn't find hard to slip into. It involves gathering around a huge wood burning stove for aperitifs at 7pm sharp. Peter then offers a choice of white wines or other aperitifs and you are encouraged to express your opinion about them all. This is not a stiff, formal experience. It quickly ascends into laughter and jollity then descends into outrageous stories, jokes and apocryphal yarns. We might start off talking seriously about, say, the continentals' views on Brexit and end up explaining why we have a deep-seated fear of clowns or who has been the most outrageously-behaved monarch.
At around 7.30pm we then move to the dining area where Peter reappears with a specially chosen red wine from his cellar and more white wine. Despite our extreme fatigue we managed to keep going through the four-course meal followed by a digestif, coffee and chocolates. To show I was paying attention, I can report that the
vin d'aperitif was Cremant de Loire brut Domaine de Lucet and the
vin de repas was Corbières (cue: jokes about Jeremy) Château de Villefalse rouge 2016. The home-cooked meal was
salade de mozzarella,
tomates,
asperges followed by
boeuf bourguignon which was further followed by
petits pots au citron and then
plateau du fromage.
Delicieux!
* * * * *
Well what about the cycling?
We awoke refreshed and re-invigorated in our new surroundings. After a continental breakfast we trudged down to the stables where our bikes were tethered. We saddled up, checked the tyres and, armed with
le pic-nic, we were finally off! But only at a snail's pace as immediately after leaving le Moulin we had a steep hill to climb. The sun was already high in the sky and with only a few clouds; it promised to be a classic day's cycling. Peter had already provided us with Michelin maps, route maps and direction sheets showing each and every turn. We had chosen a 45-mile circular route which took us initially in a westerly direction towards Vouvant and then south towards the Forest of Mervent and back via Puy-de-Serre, Marillet and La Chapelle-Thireuil.
As we relaxed into some sort of rhythm we were able to pay some attention to our surroundings. The first two things we noticed were (a) the fantastic road surfaces and (b) the almost complete absence of any traffic, whether on an unclassified road, a 'D' road or a 'C' road. This was obviously an agricultural area and neat farms and meadows were everywhere. Occasionally we would meet some farm machinery or the odd car but generally it felt as though we had the roads to ourselves.
Fresh and raring to go on day one
The topography was hilly and there were few extended areas of cycling on the flat. The verges and hedgerows were a profusion of wild flowers while the woods were alive with the sound of birdsong. I haven't heard a cuckoo in UK for several years but on this, our first day, we heard cuckoos in eight (eight!) different locations.
After an hour and a half we decided to stop for a coffee. But along the way we couldn't ever remember having seen a cafe or bar or anything which might offer some refreshment. When we passed Saint-Maurice-des-Noues we finally spotted a cafe in the small square. Alas it was closed and up for sale. This was a feature of the area: many dwellings were
A Vendre. Instead however there was, opposite the cafe, an
automat that sold, for 90 or 95 cents, two kinds of baguette (the
ordinaire and the
festif). It was this machine that had probably contributed to the cafe going out of business so we gave it a miss.
A Vendre!
We pedalled on through undulating countryside, enjoying the sunshine, the birdsong and the hum of the bees. We were ready for a break as we approached Vouvant, a lovely mediaeval town with an exceptionally beautiful church and town square. As we admired the little shuttered houses and the elaborate Norman stone carving around the church door, the only sign of life was the sound of children playing in the yard of the local primary school.
Vouvant
Along from the square we spied an old, quintessentially French cafe and cycled along to investigate. Half-expecting Rene from 'Allo 'Allo (the BBC TV series) to appear, we settled at an outside table and ordered coffees. On cue, a beautifully restored two-toned Citroen 2CV with rolled-back roof rattled past. Adjacent was la Tour Melusine, a 13th Century stone tower. Melusine was a fairy who created the circular tower overnight from 'three aprons-full of stones and a mouthful of water.'
la Tour Melusine
Refreshed, we headed in a more southerly direction towards the spectacular Mervent Forest. Some of the climbs became a little longer and steeper. Once inside the forest, on the Route des Minières (D99a), we were provided ample shade from the sun and could enjoy the cooler air and unfeasibly-bright green foliage of the trees all around us. The 7km route took us swooping down into the valley of the River Vendée and up the other side.
Forest of Mervent
Tiring a little, we cycled on to Puy-de-Serre, Marillet and La Chapelle-Thireuil. In the last of these villages is a dairy produce factory with a giant-sized plastic goat outside. I only mention this because it (the goat) became a sort of navigational aide on our subsequent travels.
We arrived back at le Moulin around 4.15pm, and with the sun still shining there was just time for one of our party to have a quick swim in the pool before the evening rituals recommenced. We reckoned we cycled around
47 miles and climbed about 4131ft during the ride.
That night we were served an exceptional Chardonnay de Lucet 2016 and, of course the only real accompaniment to this, a cheeky Chateau de Lau, Graves de Vayres rouge 2009. The food, expertly prepared by Carolynn, comprised
saumon fumé avec salade de tomboule,
poulet fermier au moutarde de Dijon,
crème caramel and
plateau du fromages. A warming calvados provided an eminently suitable digestif.
* * * * *
On our second day's riding we collectively decided upon a more modest route than that undertaken on day one. This was, to be frank, because we had yet again over-indulged in the food and drink department. There had been much hilarity the night before, mainly after Peter the Host proudly divulged that, following a DNA test and research into his family ancestry, his forebears had been living in Normandie in the 12th Century. And who were the occupying band of brigands in Normandie at that time? The Vikings. So Peter the Host instantly became 'Peter the Viking Man', something he had always wanted to be and, to be fair, his wavy hair and red pointy goatee were very Viking-like. If anyone has got one of those helmets with two horns sticking out to spare, let me know as I shall send it to him.
We set out to a backdrop of sun, blue skies with some cloud but no wind. We wound our way northwards up hill and down dale through hamlets and farmyards in the direction of L'Absie via Vernoux-en-Gâtine and La Chapelle-Saint-Étienne. The verges and hedgerows were bursting with wild flowers: speedwell, herb robert, cowslips, moon daisy, early purple orchid, clover, fumitory, bugle, cornflower, dock, columbine and mouse-ear. JR also heard a nightingale, and black kites were everywhere watching over the meadows. But the most unusual sighting was a beautiful metre-long snake lying in the middle of the road, quite dead.
We approached L'Absie from the north looking for the Café des Sports that JR had visited on his trip here five years previously. As we cycled round the town square we caught sight of our objective and slumped thankfully down into some comfortable chairs. Strangely, all the other customers and the proprietor were speaking English and soon we learned that this cafe was one of the focal points for the local expat community. Apparently UK citizens make up 12% of the total population of L'Absie, drawn here by the low price of housing, good health provision, cheap wine and temperate weather. They were honest enough to admit however that, socially, there wasn't a great deal to do around those parts.
L'Absie
After coffee we were feeling decidedly jaded and so decided to cut short our intended ride and plot the most direct route back to Scillé and our digs at la Moulin de Chemin. As luck would have it, there was a sign for the D744 to Coulonges-sur-l'Autize right next to the cafe, and this would take us directly past Scillé. Downhill all the way, we zoomed back to le Moulin de Chemin at an average of 35kph, bringing our distance cycled today to
53 miles with 4357ft of climbing. We had a late lunch, some pool time and the first bottles of the deliciously refreshing Cidre de Normandie were retrieved from the 'open-access drinks fridge' by Mike CC at about 4.15pm. That evening we partook of pollock in a herb sauce with broccoli followed by a rich chocolate mousse. Yum!
* * * * *
Another important ritual of staying at le Moulin is the mid-week picnic by the lakes. So day three's cycling revolved around plotting a route which would take us to the lakeside picnic site at Le Beugnon by 12.30pm. JR managed to amalgamate two of the shorter routes to make a longer ride encompassing the picnic location.
Today was May 1st which is a holiday in most European countries. Here, things are even quieter than usual. We set off with the sun already high in the sky towards L'Absie then headed west to the virtually deserted villages of Saint-Paul-en-Gâtine and La Chapelle-aux-Lys. After this we should have returned to L'Absie but missed the turn (unsurprisingly as it was halfway down a very steep descent) and ended up in Loge-Fougereuse on the D19. As this so-called main road was virtually traffic-free we chose not to retrace our steps but continue along it until we arrived in Saint-Hilaire-de-Voust and headed back towards Scillé from there. We then followed the official picnic route and took the road to Le Beugnon. The ride took us over some sharp inclines and fast descents for about eight miles, passing as we went a couple of twelve-foot-high crucifixes which adorn many road junctions hereabouts. At Le Beugnon we stopped by the Church to try and make some sense of the map and direction sheets we had been provided with. Fortunately before we had time to get hopelessly lost, Peter the Viking pulled up in his huge Toyota Landcruiser ("350,000 on the clock and going strong") and gave us directions to "the lakes" where we would have our picnic lunch.
The two small lakes were barely 2km from Le Beugnon but were bordered by woodland and hills. Only two other people were in evidence so once again, we had the place virtually to ourselves. We occupied one of the wooden picnic tables which we bedecked with a suitably floral table cloth and set down plates of duck pâté, Cheeses (comte, camembert etc), sausage, savoury loaf, olives, tomatoes and radishes and fresh bread. All this washed down with our favourite Cidre de Normandie.
Le Picnic
The backdrop to all this was the slightly less than restful sound of hundreds of frogs in the two lakes going about their mating rituals. The croaking, squealing and chirping noises were quite off-putting. I went to investigate and as I approached the banks of the larger lake, numerous frogs leapt off the side and into the lake as though participating in some sort of synchronised diving competition. This was a reminder of our proximity to the Vendee, an area of waterland where for centuries frogs and eels have been caught and eaten — not unlike the Fens before they were drained.
In the afternoon, instead of heading straight back to le Moulin, we decided to elongate the ride by putting in some loops. The direction sheets were to guide us north to Vernoux-en-Gâtine and back to base via La Bougnolière and Le Puy Guitonneau. However we got lost about four times and made our way home by a sort of process of elimination which involved taking lots of wrong turns until we found the right one. Going back and forth alongside the same fields gave us time to admire French livestock. The cows look enormous, far heftier than our own varieties. Here there are the white-mottled Charolais, the Parthenais - lighter tanned cows with dark eyes - and the dark brown Limousins. The bulls, meanwhile, are gigantic. We had seen our first Charolais bull on day one. There, in splendid isolation he lay, unperturbed and uninterested in us or anything else. A ton or so of muscle.
Today we had covered rather less than the previous two days. However this did not however diminish our appetites. We feasted on geziers de poulets (part of a chicken we do not normally eat in the UK but which was nevertheless tender and delicious), quail, and, to follow, pastries from the local Patisserie Rousseau Joël.
* * * * *
Day four was to be our most ambitious ride yet: at least 65 miles. It involved an initially hilly ride to Coulonges-sur-L'Autize, flattening out as the route headed south towards Benet, Courçon, Arçais and Maillé. Here we would be in the Marais Poitrevin. an area of lush green meadows and woodlands criss-crossed by a network of streams, rivers and waterways dotted with tiny frog-catchers cottages.
The weather was sunny but with an ominous increase in cloud formation. We set off, as we always did, in a spirit of optimism. Initially we retraced the route of the previous day to Le Beugnon, continuing on the D25 to Fenioux and then taking a lovely section of deserted meadows and woodland to Xaintray and Béceleuf. From here we headed west to Ardin and Coulonges, for the first time on main roads which were relatively busy. Although there was quite a strong headwind, the sun was still out and we searched for a cafe in Coulonges. We passed one or two candidates but eventually plumped for a patisserie which offered coffee and had a couple of tables inside. Service was not swift as Madame spent most of her time chatting to a chap outside wearing a Police Rurale poloshirt. We then had a mosy around the town, having a quick look at le Château Renaissance, the covered market and - best of all - the most ornate pissoir I have ever had the joy of utilising. With a handsome roof, art nouveau tiling and its own cast iron lamp hanging above the saloon-type half-door. It was straight out of an early 1960's TV episode of Maigret.
Le Pissoir à Coulonges
We then had to make a difficult decision arising from our slow-ish progress thus far. The route had been lumpier than we had anticipated and this had taken a toll on our average speed and energy levels. It was approaching midday but we were only a quarter of our way along the route. We calculated that we wouldn't return to base before about 7pm if we continued at the same pace. As no one showed particular enthusiasm for this option, JR reconfigured our route and we started going west rather than south. The plan was to take in a different section of the Mervent Forest to that which we encountered on day one. The giant plastic goat in La Chapelle-Thireuil would provide an appropriate waymark on our return to base.
We made for the small town of Saint-Hilaire-des-Loges where we had our picnic lunch next to the beautiful Norman church then pushed on to the hamlet of Les Rouillères in the Forest of Mervent. The River Vendee is particularly wide here and I would have liked to stop and take in the scenery but we were pushed for time. As we approached Foussais-Payré the sun remained strong but within twenty minutes the clouds rolled in and for the first time all week we had to contend with the prospect of rain. Under leaden skies we reached Marillet, Le Busseau and base camp. We had covered rather less than we had planned:
42 miles and climbed 3087ft. I felt a bit disappointed not to have made it down to Marais poitrevin, but there is always next time. By way of consolation we dined like kings: turkey with baked plum sauce, the very richest of chocolate puddings, and a cheese platter which included Chèvres Brebes, the sweet, pink Saint Elbray and Tomme de Pyrénées. These were all accompanied by exceptional (and prize-winning) wines: Chardonnay Premium Gael Crochet 2017 and Chateau Le Grain Bordeaux Superieur 2012. The latter betrayed hints of beetroot, chocolate and almonds while the former had distinct overtones of cucumber, peach and honey. For digestifs I think we had some Armagnac — or was it the exceptional Cognac Old Reserve Napoleon? Sadly, I can't remember.
* * * * *
So to our final day. After the gloom of the previous afternoon, the sun was at its best, albeit with a cooling breeze. We headed north-east towards Vernoux-en-Gâtine but as we swooped down the first hill and through the first farm yard MCC had a puncture, our first and only of the entire holiday. The problem of the puncture was compounded by valve failure on the replacement tube and a return of Mike's back pain. As we were so close to base, Mike decided to return to sort out the bike and have a restful day by the pool. JR and I decided to continue to Vernoux and L'Absie where we again had coffee at the Café des Sports, served by our English chum. From there we took a long (10km) downhill all the way to Le Beugnon (where the mating frogs were still at it by the lakes). Here JR turned off to return to Scillé and le Moulin while I continued onwards to Fenioux. Here I had to decide whether to do a longer route down to Ardin and Coulonges, or a shorter option to La Chapelle to say
au revoir to the giant plastic goat. I decided on the latter which would get me back to le Moulin by lunchtime for an afternoon
à la piscine. As the following day meant a 0500 start we had also agreed that we would get the bikes loaded onto the car and everything packed the evening before.
The giant plastic goat
So after a leisurely picnic at le Moulin, followed by a refreshing swim in the pool, we drank a couple of final glasses of the gorgeous Cidre de Normandie and then dispersed. JR had some catching up to do on Game of Thrones, MCC had neglected to study the money markets for at least three days and was getting twitchy, while I pressed some of the wild flowers I had collected (for later identification) and then buried myself in a book.
The final evening witnessed another le Moulin ritual: the Friday Barbecue. We congregated by the pool with our glasses of Muscadet Sevres 2016 and talked of the week's highlights. Hors d'oeuvres comprised Boudin Blanc ('white pudding', a type of pork), onion and milk sausage, and there was also Boudin Noir (what we call black pudding). This was accompanied by grilled meat and salads followed by tarte aux fruits rouges, all washed down with another cheeky wine, this time a Cotes du Rhone Vieilles Vignes 2015. Slurp! Conversation was slightly subdued as it was the end of the holiday. That was until MCC announced with some authority - that evidence of previous organic life on Mars had been confirmed by recent explorations. This put all our Brexit discussions into some sort of context but caused us to ponder on whether there were any half-as-good cycle routes Out There.
Peter Wilson