Distance: 76km
It would have been nice to stop for the day, rest our weary minds and bodies, but a night in a hotel was a treat and couldn't be repeated - we would have to move on, although our legs really didn't feel it. The morning was sunny and warm and we hoped our luck had changed - please, just one day without the rain. We started riding and the road seemed good - not too much wind and quiet roads. It should have been enjoyable riding, but for me I was struggling not to stop and throw my bike in a ditch and walk home. For a couple of weeks I'd been struggling with the idea of going home. We had been gone over six months, such a long time... My legs were in pain every day - not serious pain, just the pain that comes with pushing yourself. It was a feeling I wasn't used to in my former life, and I'm still not sure I like it. After a long straight stretch where I fell far behind Sam, he stopped to wait for me, and make sure I was ok. A torrent of tears followed as we stopped on the side of a deserted road to talk about how tired I was, the pain of working hard and how I missed home. It was time to decide - did I want to keep going or go home? Sam gave a speech worthy of a pep rally - about pain making you stronger, how far we've come in six months, how much I've improved and reminding me that a rest in Paris was just days away. For the rest of the afternoon I had the strength to keep up with Sam (in his slip stream of course) and even enjoyed the pain and ensuing feeling of accomplishment at the top of many hills. We went further than planned, trying to find an ideal camping spot. At Saint Florentin we found a shower and toilet block next to the canal and were happy to wash away the day's dirt. But we decided to keep riding and try to find a better camping spot, away from the crowds of motor campers. At 8.30 we stopped behind some bushes on the side of the road outside Saint Florentin, both exhausted. It wasn't ideal, but we couldn't go any further.
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Distance: 36km
In rained again through the night and took us a long time to dry everything enough to pack away. But soon enough we were back riding again, and this time downhill, which was fun. We even passed a few tractors this time. After cycling through Blighny-Sur Ouche we went up to Chazilly, followed by Creancy. Turning left from Creancy we ended up in Pouilly en Auxois, a beautifully scenic town filled with less beautifully scenic tourists. We stopped at the local patisserie, something we've been making a habit of doing lately, and bought two delicious cakes, both even more deliciously wrapped. Lunch was a simple affair, fresh hot roast chicken with a crunchy baguette and some nectarines, followed by our purchase from the patisserie. Wow, if only we could buy these elsewhere we thought as we bit into our deserts, smooth and creamy, perfectly scrumptious, I can almost taste the flavors, the perfect consistency as I'm envisioning them... We kept riding, and it kept raining, so we stopped about 6km from St Thibault, and camped under a bridge next to a canal full of sea monsters that couldn't stop splashing about. Distance: 74km
It was another cold and rainy day... but we were getting used to it. And again the gusts of wind were hammering our faces, but we weren't getting used to that. We gazed in wonder at the small towns we rode through - Chaussin, Chemin, Seurre... They were all so beautiful! Is the whole country full of small, picturesque villages? In the evening we rode through the beautiful city of Beaune, the gorgeous wine capital of Burgundy, near the hills of the Cote d'Or... Bigger than the towns we'd passed through during the day but still the extensive archaic centre was maticulously preserved. We tried to take it all in as we rode to the other side of the city... Outside of town and we're riding up a hill on the designated scenic route - our biggest for days. A tractor is puffing along the road, holding up the traffic behind. And suddenly a truck driver, heading the other way, swerves onto the other side of the rode whist pulling down his pants with his left hand, flipping the bird with his right and screaming profanities, and then narrowly missing Sam. Careening down the hill, and narrowly missing me on his second failed attempt to overtake on our side of the road, I was treated to the swearing only. We reached the top at 620m elevation and wearily started to coast down the other side. We stopped at a roadside rest area outside of Bligny-sur Ouche to cook our dinner, and decided to stop for the night. Distance: 64km
It rained through the night and until 10am in the morning, so it took us a while to dry everything and get going. Hmmm, I see a pattern emerging... Back on the wet and windy road, I admit it is better than 40 plus degrees, we cycle through some beautiful towns, in fact they all look so picturesque that Shanna keeps wondering that they must have all been a feature of the Tour de France. First Levier, then Villeneuve d'Amont, next was Cernans when following this we toured Salins Les-Bains, a place you should definitely see before you die, after which we routed Mouchard (its food stores at least), followed by Villers-Farlay where we tasted some exquisite fromage de chevre. It was raining at this point, we had lunch, bought from the Super Marche and cooked in our pot, curry with rice along with a still warm fresh and crusty bread stick. Next was Ounans, followed by Mont Vaudrey. Stomachs feeling sad and sorry we ran off into the woods, where we saw a deer, who looked at us, cautiously, and then suddenly ran off, startled cries ringing through the trees to alert his brothers of the crazy Aussies soiling the forest. The deer spurred us onwards to Le Deschaux, where we found a fantastic camp spot by a river. In desperate need of a wash it wasn't long before we were frollicking naked in the cold water... Ah, I meant bathing discreetly in our cycling clothes to wash the sweat... no mosquitoes all evening (priceless!!), we fell asleep quickly in the tent and didn't wake up for almost 11 hours. Distance: 32km
After riding hard through the wind for what felt like weeks, although it was only two days, plus the accumulating effects of the week hiking mountains in Switzerland, our legs were tired and so were we. It was time to take it easy. We didn't ride far, and much of the afternoon was spent using the free wifi at McDonalds... All part of our cycling experience - taking whatever opportunity we can to access free internet and update this website (as well as research our route and how to get into Paris!) In the evening we went a short distance and camped in a huge empty field outside the hamlet of Chaffois. At night the sound of cow bells woke me, and I fell back asleep dreaming of Sam cutting off a goat's head to stop the bell ringing, and a farmer calling for his goat that would never return home... We woke up in the morning and despite the sky still looking ominous the rain had stopped. Unfortunately though the wind was still blowing, and it was cold.
It was hard getting going again, packing up our gear and the tent whilst knowing we'd be riding into a head wind, I tried not to think about it. Additionally, the bike was still making a worrying grinding noise. If only I could figure out what it is... Pushing at the pedals as hard as I can, but only going about 10 kilometers per hour. The rain starts, then stops, then hammers down and we get soaked, so soaked that we try putting the tarp up between some trees, even with our rain jackets on we feel wet to the bone... can't believe how cold it is!!! Maybe we've just gone soft from being in hot climates for so long?!? At one point we have to stop for an hour, the wind is so strong we can't actually ride forwards. Approaching the outskirts of Lausanne we see a beautiful lake, framed by the mountains which surround it; Switzerland really is a beautiful country, and despite our present struggles on the bikes we wouldn't change coming here for a second. I guess that from the large amount of other cyclists on the roads braving the rain and wind we're not alone with that opinion Riding around the lake we see a shower, it looks freezing but we drop our bikes and hurriedly strip off behind some bushes. Wowwweee, it is cold, but hey, its definitely worth it to feel clean again. Distance: 67km
Leaving Sion to continue cycling across Europe was a bittersweet affair. Whilst Francois and Severine had left the day before to do some high altitude training for a University study, we had gone to the local bicycle shop (thanks heaps to Severine’s mum who drove us there) to pick up our bikes. Looking at our bicycles, newly serviced and gleaming I was amazed by just how clean they looked. In fact, they looked as though someone had gone over them with a fine toothcomb and a can of polish. Great we thought! Then we looked down at the price of our bikes being serviced, and the two new chains which were fitted to them and were unable to believe our eyes, almost $600 Australian dollars. I racked my brains wondering what the exorbitant cost was for, and tried desperately to read the receipt, much to the annoyance of the French speaking Suisse standing behind the counter. It seems, I learned later, that you do not question the price here, and simply accept with meekness so as not to risk the chance of looking as though any amount, no matter the high cost, means nothing to you or your bank account. Interestingly when we had first taken the bikes in for a service we were told that the front wheel would need replacing. Francois replied that that was the wheel they had built for him only six months ago, and asked what was wrong with it as there were no obvious signs of a problem. Suddenly there seemed to be no more problems with the wheel. Hmmn. Anyway, much to the annoyance of the guys in the shop (and the embarrassment of my entourage) I looked down at my bike and spun the front wheel. It rotated around once, and then with a sudden jolt it stopped. I moved onto the back wheel (a brand new one that they had just built) and did the same. It didn’t stop immediately, but swerved noticeably at one arbitrary point, indicating even to the newbie cyclist that this wheel had a buckle. I showed it to them, much to their reluctance, and was told it was the tyre. Wow, I’ve never heard of that one before I thought to myself. An hour later, Shanna and Severines mother had left in the car with her bike, the front wheel of my bike adjusted and swinging freely, a $600 dent in my pocket for I’m still not sure what and I was back on my bike and cycling up the mountain through the rain (seven hundred meters climb in altitude- or going up the Mt Dandenong I-20 climb the equivalent of three times). Soon though, I wondered what the new noise was, a constant grating sound apparent with each revolution of the pedals, and began wondering if all that had been done to the bikes was a trip through a car washer (in my imagination I was picturing something like a giant dishwasher with a bike in it). The following morning we left the Lamon’s beautiful home overlooking the Swiss alps in the mountains of Sion (altitude almost 1300 meters), heading for France. We were sad to leave, remembering fondly our week there, and how much we’d done during this short time with Sev and Francois, in their stunning little corner of the world. Thanks to a bum steer from me we started heading in the wrong direction and thinking how wonderful the tail wind was. Realising we were going the wrong way we turned around, me with a backpack on my back with mountaineering gear in it ready to send home, and began heading the right way, into the wind towards the beautiful lakeside city of Lausanne. $115 later and the backpack is off my back and heading to Australia, wow it feels great, not only to get rid off the big pack but also to be riding again. If only the wind wasn’t intent on blowing us back to Sion it would have been perfect! Through the strongest head wind imaginable we pushed our pedals. Progress was slow, much energy was spent, and then the rain started to fall. It was about 5pm, and we’d just stocked up on food at a supermarket, when we saw an abandoned structure, which would offer protection from the rain. We wheeled our bikes under the big concrete pillars and ceiling, and investigated a big warehouse - it was also abandoned. We cooked our pasta in the warehouse, admiring the graffiti, but as it grew dark decided we’d been happier camping outside with the cold wind. Distance: 73km
As we rode closer to the mountains, they became larger and dominated the skyline ahead of us. Near the town of Aosta, where we would take the turn-off to the Grand Saint Bernard Pass, we were surprised to see snow on the mountain peaks. At first we weren't sure if it was snow or rock, but as the occurances increased we realised in was snow. This was pretty exciting for me, my opportunities for seeing snow up until now being pretty limited. As we rode through Aosta the dark clouds that had been threatening broke open and the rain poured down. Thunder boomed around us and we took shelter under a tree by the side of the road. We pulled our rain jackets out but it was too heavy to continue. We weren't as far as we wanted. We wanted to progress as far as we could up the mountain pass. And we planned to camp on the mountain. But here we were, stuck in another city, in the middle of a storm. We waited 10 minutes, debating what to do, and the rain eased. We would keep going. We made the turn onto the road up to the pass and the rain poured down again. We pulled under the cover of a carport next to an apartment block. Again we waited, and when the rain subsided we continued. Not much further up the road my chain broke again - the fourth time on the trip! Luckily the rain had stopped, and luckily we'd been able to buy some extra chain links a few days earlier, so within 20 minutes we were riding up the mountain again. We rode for another hour and made it to an altitude of 850m when we saw a rest area on the side of the road, with a path leading up into an orchard. Sam checked out the orchard and we decided it would be the perfect place to camp for the night. We ate cereal for dinner (oh, how I longed for something else!) and set up our tent - without any mosquitoes around! It rained during the night, and with the cooler temperature at the high altitude, and the quiet of the sparsely populated area, we enjoyed one of our best nights of camping. Tomorrow would be the day we had been looking forward to - riding to the top of the Alps! Distance: 68km
From our camping spot inside the bridge we could see a McDonalds sign in the distance, and determined to head there for breakfast. Riding in the direction of the golden arches we realised we had also found the road to Salerno, the one which had evaded us the night before. The McDonalds was closed - didn't open until 11 - which was something we'd never heard of, so we ate bagettes and custard filled croissants from the service station next door. We chose an alternate route to Salerno to avoid some long mountain roads featured on the map - but the road we travelled undulated all day anyway. We saw some of the most beautiful buildings we'd encountered yet, when we went through the town of Brienza, at 700m elevation. But the name made me think of my family's cat... After Brienza we went down a 15% gradient road, waving to the guys struggling uphill on their lightweight road bikes. We were glad to be going downhill for once. We'd battled strong headwinds and high temperatures all day, so we stopped early near the town of Auletta to camp near a beautiful river. We swam, letting the current carry us in small rapids, i a beautifully cool clean and fresh river, one Sam has dreamt about since, and watched young guys fishing from a hidden cave, think grotto, built hundreds of years ago into the side of the rivers cliff... Distance: 106km
We were woken once by a pack of dogs, sniffing around the tent and bikes, but they only needed to be yelled at once to disappear. We were sleeping soundly in the early morning when footsteps on the gravel woke us. A box was put on the ground next to the bikes and a young guy started to graffiti the wall as if we weren't there. The next 15 minutes were strange, as we tried to tell him to go away, but he insisted in broken English that he had to do it "at this moment". He was close to the bikes, and spray paint began to inadvertently land on them and our gear. He apologised and tried to move Sam's heavy bike. Sam yelled at him to leave. He insisted he had to do it so the people on the train could see... back and forth it went. Realising we would get no more sleep we gave in and packed up. It was another tough day - temperatures in the high 30s, more altitude gained, nowhere to buy food or water, headwinds... It was a day to make us wonder why we do this to ourselves. We found a restaurant in a small town where we were overcharged for a small bowl of pasta each, but we met a friendly Italian, Pablo, who chatted to us about his motorbike travels around Europe. It was lucky we had the pasta though - in the afternoon we went up a hill of 850m altitude with gradient of up to 15%. It was too much and we had to push up a particularly steep section. In the hot sun the mountain was particularly tough, but the plateau on top was beautiful, and drinking the cold mountain water we found coming from a well at the top made it worth it! For the rest of the day the road would lose altitude, only to gain it again. In the early evening we rode into the city of Potenza at 850m altitude. The plan was to buy food and get out of there before dark. But we spent an hour riding around trying to find the road for the next leg of our journey. And we couldn't find a supermarket. We were getting very frustrated and worried we would have to stay in a hotel. We ate some pre-packaged sandwiches and were able to think clearer... We picked a direction to head in, and rode down from the top of the city. We had no luck finding our road, but luckily Sam found another place to camp - our most bizzare yet. It was inside a bridge near the freeway. No one could see us, it was cool, and we were too tired to keep going. It was all we could do to find the energy to put up the tent and eat our cereal for dinner. |
AuthorSam and Shanna Evans are from Melbourne, Australia Archives
September 2012
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