Day 10: Sarlat to Gramat

Despite drizzle all day, the fabulous scenery more than made up. With over 1,000m of climb, so it should have. Things started flat enough, though, with this pleasant railtrail (pic) out of Sarlat.

The smooth tarmac and lack of gradient made my bike feel much lighter. Actually, it was lighter. When I unpacked the tent in the evening I realised I'd left half the tent behind at the campsite. No more camping for me, then...

Anyway, breakfast this morning was the usual coffee from a bar-tabac (these always have a few local blokes discussing something over a coffee or liqueur who all turn round when I come in), and a pain au chocolat and cake at a boulangerie-patissier (which always have someone just leaving carrying a baguette or two) (pic).

The food is always fresh and delicious. If you've ever wondered how the best raspberry crumble and custard in the world would taste in cake form, get to this place in St Julien de Lampon now.



France has a lot of big rivers. After all the rain of the last few days I can see why. This is the Dordogne, which I criss-crossed today (pic).



I was taken with this bike outside a house near Calès. They'd locked it up, though the chances of anyone riding off on it seemed slim: it's at the bottom of a steep 4km climb, one of several I had today.



It's not just cows that sit down when it's about to rain. These geese at a foie gras farm did too (pic). Unless they're just too fat to get up.



I had lunch overlooking spectacular Rocamadour (pic). (I can't resist saying 'three, four...' before its name.) But I tried and failed to order a coffee. It's a place where nothing much has happened in the last few hundred years. Bar service, for instance.

Miles today: 54
Miles since St Malo: 528

Day 9: Périgueux to Sarlat

A whole day's rain-free cycling, despite forecast storms, on main roads. My morning coffee stop was in the town of La Douze, where they'd festooned the main street with these beautiful flowers (pic). Until I looked closer, and realised they were plastic bags. There's an environmental disaster coming when they decommission this lot.



An easy run got me to Les Eyzies, the centre for all sorts of superb prehistoric sights (including the Lascaux caves). I dropped into the Grotte de Grand Roc, which had the most astounding selection of stalagmites I've ever seen. Rare conditions inside the cave mean they grow by capillary action, which means all directions. Some look more like coral (pic). Remarkable shapes elsewhere include a cross-handled sword, Madonna and Child, statue of Nike, and even a pig's ear. Which is what I made of most of my attempted photos.



Cro-Magnon man flourished here 25,000 years ago, and you can visit many of the overhangs they used to live in, like this one (pic), though it must have been noisy being right on the main road.



After lunch by the river in Les Eyzies, I continued to Sarlat, famous for its excellently preserved medieval old town (pic). After three nights of blissful luxury in hotels, I decided it was back to camping tonight. After all, the threatened thunderstorms held off all today. Right until I started pitching my tent. I knew I should have gone for a B&B...

Miles today: 47
Miles since St Malo: 474

Day 8: Rochechouart to Périgueux

My progress down west-central France continued with a day of mile-eating on lightly-trafficked main roads under cloudy, sometimes drizzly, English-like skies.



The theme continued in the picture-postcard Dordogne town of Brantôme (pic). I wondered why so many French visitors had such drab dress sense and spoke such clumsy English. Then I realised they were English.



Indeed, the English are everywhere in this part of France. Half the people I stop to ask directions, or to enquire where there's a cashpoint that actually works, turn out to be expats. Anyway, here's a picture of a shop that sells only foie gras (pic).

In England that shop would be an appallingly exploitative and cruel operation that would be Twitterstormed out of existence immediately. Here, it's just part of the culture.

In other words, I'm not even sure it was open.

My appetite piqued, I had another picnic lunch overlooking yet another riverside view in Brantôme (pic). No geese were harmed in the making of this meal.

I was so, so happy.



This final picture of Brantôme, of the pont coudé, 'elbow bridge'. Named presumably after the English tourists all elbowing each other out the way to take selfies.

Miles today: 58
Miles since St Malo: 427

Day 7: L'Isle-Jourdain to Rochechouart

I'd decided on a rest day in L'Isle-Jourdain, given the forecast of downpours and the lovely B&B. But the sun came out around ten, and I got itchy feet – I really must get some new trainers – so I set out again.



The way out of L'I-J was via the viaduct (pic). Britain isn't the only place with railtrails from lines closed in the 1960s. This one goes majestically across the Vienne river, which I followed south all day. The Vienne moves slowly, is underrated, and is shallower than you think, so we clearly have a lot in common.



I managed to avoid rain all day, despite the gloomy predictions on www.meteo.fr, though I'm getting a bit tired of headwinds. Still, the scenery was good, especially when the route dived down to river-straddling towns such as Confolens with its ancient bridge (pic). Old customs still survive here, such as shops being closed on Mondays, just when you're desperate to buy some ham or cheese to go with your baguette.

Still, there was lots to enjoy in the rustic landscape. Such as this scary scarecrow at the village of La Brousse (pic).

I see Health & Safety has even made it to rural France: he's wearing hi-vis.

Presumably he's excused having to wear safety specs because, being a skull, he doesn't have ears.

Miles today: 40
Miles since St Malo: 369

Day 6: Parthenay to L'Isle-Jourdain

Yesterday evening, which was sunny and hot, I couldn't use the campsite swimming pool because I have shorts-style trunks, which are not allowed in France. (You have to wear budgie smugglers.) But this morning I got my own way. Torrential rain from 4am turned my tent into a swimming pool of my own.

It meant spending four hours decamped to the laundry room to dry my gear and sit out the rain in the warm, using the ironing board as a laptop desk, but at last it stopped around nine and I could get going.

It was pleasant rural cycling again, through Poitou-Charentes, with gently rolling farmland, much of it given to dead wilting sunflowers, a curiously forlorn sight. I visited the excellent Gallo-Roman remains (amphitheatre, thermal baths [pic], temple) at Sanxay, which are very rare in France.

I also managed to visit a boulangerie-patisserie and bar that were open on a Sunday, something else very rare in France.



This is the medieval village of Château Larcher (pic), yet another well-preserved and characterful old place, though here seen in an unusual way: there are English or German mobile homes driving through the picture.



Anyway, I finished up in the town of L'Isle-Jourdain, centred around this splendid (old railway) viaduct (pic). I was just about to camp when I heard thunder and thought, oh aye. So I'm in a lovely B&B watching the thunder and lightning from the comfort of my room with a complimentary glass of wine from the friendly hosts. I like cycle touring.

Miles today: 65
Miles since St Malo: 329

Day 5: Montsoreau to Parthenay

A mixed day of sunshine, lots of cool cloud, the odd headwind, and drizzle. It made me homesick.



Plenty of interesting historic towns and villages to ride through, though. At Airvault I dodged a shower by having lunch in the fine covered market (pic) which was busy with the Saturday marché. It's about the most activity I've seen anywhere in rural France. Everywhere is usually closed because it's too early (ie before lunch) too late (ie after five) or else they're on lunch break (which lasts till five).



I ended the day at Parthenay, whose historic centre is a medieval street (pic) that was, and is, on the Camino de Santiago (the 'classic' bit of which I rode in 2011). It was peaceful and tranquil (with nothing open, despite it being mid-afternoon on a Saturday). That didn't last long, because a convoy of about fifty cars in a wedding party came past, all honking their horns incessantly.

After four nights of camping, I wanted to stay in a chambre d'hôte (B&B). Unfortunately, they were all full, because of the wedding party. So it's camping again...

Miles today: 56
Miles since St Malo: 264

Day 4: Chalonnes-sur-Loire to Montsoreau

Best day of the trip so far, mostly spent dawdling alongside the Loire. Which was pretty misty in the morning chill, but once away from Chalonnes, there were some fine views over the valley (pic). You can see why hot-air ballooning is big in these parts. One of our friends got married in a hot-air balloon – partly for the thrill, but mostly because space prevented them from inviting any of their feuding in-laws.



Much of today's route coincided with the popular Loire à vélo path, and there were countless other cycle-tourists plying the same roads and lanes (pic). The scenery and cycle infrastructure is clearly something to do with it. To judge by the restaurants I saw en route that were packed out with cyclists, food and drink may be a factor too.

Being something of a fan of fungi, I dropped into the Mushroom Museum. It has thousands of examples of brightly-coloured specimens from around the world (pic), including the very rare blue mushroom.

But, alas, for every eye-catching mushroom described as bon comestible, there was an almost identical one next to it tagged toxique.

The most dramatic of these is perhaps the Death Cap, one of which is 'enough to kill an entire family', we're told. Mind you, I can think of a few families.

Until I crossed the Loire, there were no vineyards at all; post-Loire, there's nothing but vineyards, all offering free tastings.

Heroically, I only dropped in on one: Bouvet-Ladubay, just outside Saumur, a specialist in sparkly whites that you can't call 'champagne' but clearly are.

The brut was lovely ('fruity, apple notes, oat biscuits, toast', read my rather shakey notes) and the crémant even nicer, once the initial rush of fruit juice had subsided ('soft, creamy, bright and sweet, ?pear drops, ?lemon', continues the wobbly script).



Saumur centre-ville also boasted this eye-catching display of umbrellas above one street (pic). No idea what's going on, but I certainly approve.



Up by the castle in Saumur was this fetching panorama of the Loire (pic). From here it was a lovely riverside spin to Montsoreau, with a campsite that caters generously for cyclists: free cabin upgrades! I like cycling in France...

Miles today: 55
Miles since St Malo: 208