SAULT

Tonight we arrived in Sault. This little town is in Provence and at the foot of Mont Ventoux. When we arrived, it was heaving with cyclists and motor cyclists. I know why cyclists come here. It is because of Mont Ventoux. I will be joining them tomorrow in my bid to do the Mont Ventoux challenge.

Last night we stayed in a small guest house in La Motte-Chalancon run by a British couple and we had an Ulster breakfast served with welsh cakes and scones. It was a late start because our stomachs were too full to move but we had excellent chats with our hosts. Luckily it was downhill for nearly 15 miles so full stomachs added extra weight and we averaged nearly 14mph, something I have never achieved before.

The scenery now changed as we were in Southern France. Gone were the mountains. Instead was the normally dry semi arid landscape of the south. Little villages appeared on top of hills, crickets chuntered away, lavender was growing in the fields. Somehow we still kept climbing and today despite no mountains we climbed 3,500ft.

Today the sun shone gloriously but it was cold. Tomorrow is the next big climb and on Sunday it is our last full day as we head for Avignon and trains home.

Meanwhile Badger has been very happy. He loves the landscape and has seen many places for good burrows. He made friends with a French long distance cyclist yesterday. Moreover he has added two new countries to his travels and must be the most widely travelled badger ever. On Sunday night he must choose whether to go to Meckenbeuren with Dagmar or to Devon with me.

THE ALPS

The hill out of Grenoble was enormous and the first of several over the next two days. It was a bank holiday and motor cyclists had come out to climb the same hill in droves. At the top my face felt that it was the same colour as Dagmar's fire extinguisher that she had bought the previous day. I had done it. The motor cyclists were remorseless. They were everywhere. Some of the young guns testing their machines made it quite scary for us cyclists. For me, it is easy to rev up a motor bike to do this climb but we were the only two cyclists with fully loaded touring bikes and this was much more a test of skill and stamina. My picture is a hill further on.

Cycling is not just about testing yourself. It is more about immersing yourself in the scenery and with people. In these Alpine meadows, crystal clear rivers flowed. Sometimes they were slow and meandering while at others they tumbled down steep rocky crags and mountain sides. Always the water was beautifully clear just as nature intended it. Wild flower meadows continued to adorn the landscape. This time the yellow was from dandelions but not in early morning for they needed until after breakfast to wake up as the flowers had closed up for the night. Of all these flowers tiny orchids made themselves known very discretely so as not to disturb anyone.

We watched as a farmer brought in his cattle for milking while proud parents nearby took their children out on the quiet lanes away from the main road on their bikes. Back on the passes we watched also as motor bikes gave way to cyclists. At this high altitude we were the only ones dumb enough to be on heavy tourers as all the others were lycra clad guys on fast racing bikes. It was refreshing to see so many older people and girls. We found an out of the way Chambres and Tables d'hotes last night. It had no internet but it had wholesome refreshing good food while heating and hot water came from a log burner using wood from the owners' own resources. As we made a sad farewell this morning the clouds sat in front of the hills so that we could see only the road under and peaks above.

At our highest pass, Col de Rousset, a ski resort greeted us while vultures soured overhead looking out for cyclists who had died on the way up. As we peddled through gorges, great overhangs showered us with water streaming down from the rocks. Then we came to the town called Die. I thought that we had just completed the road to die but the reality was a good lunch in a cafe which we shared with many motor cyclists. Just as we settled down to a feast of duck, a motor cyclist from the table next to us stood up. He had a mohican haircut and was wearing no strides!

And finally, I feel that Dagmar and I are now toughening up like old boots.

ANNECY AND GRENOBLE

I cycled up my first proper Alpine hill today. It was 5 miles long and approx 800m climb. We reached the little village of St Bernard du Tourvet and could see the snow covered Alps all around us.

Yesterday we left our hotel in drizzle and cycled on quiet undulating roads to Annecy where we stopped for our first coffee break of the day. Obviously a popular holiday town set on the edge of the mountains and beside a lake, our route south then took us along a well built cycle path on a former railway for 20 miles. This was easy riding and offered good scenery. Our lunch was taken in a former train station nicely restored with old engine beside it. The Alps could be seen tantilisingly in the distance.

Despite the weather, we thought that this would be an easy day. Neither of us like to book accommodation ahead and prefer to rely on our instincts. Tonight involved an extra 12 miles ride above what we had planned. Our destination had 3 hotels and rooms but two hotels were closed for repairs and the others fully booked. Hotel George at Montmelian came to our rescue and never have I seen so many staircases in one building. It was up on a twisty stone stair for one floor then one came down again while there was a choice of two to the next floor. Accommodation and beakfast was good.

Today however was the big day for my first col.

I am used to hills in Devon. They are short and often steep. This hill was completely different. It was never ending for 5 miles. The only respite were the hairpin bends where momentarily they were steeper. Anyhow the top was reached with immense relief and spectaculaaaar views. The route down was just the same. I worried about my brakes but I also thought of Stefan. He would have taken this downhill like a rocket and probably arrived at the bottom 20 minutes before me.

It was back to easy riding for our destnation today was Grenoble. Unlike Geneva, this city had built excellent cycle routes into it. When we arrived we found the city to be at comfort with itself. The French architecture and higgledy piggledy roads were full of interesting buildings and shops. People were able to walk or cycle without fear of being run over. We decided to walk the city, have a liesurely meal outside and people watch.

Meanwhile Dagmar bought herself a replacement water bottle for one she had lost. It was bright red and her bike to me now looks like it is carrying a fire extinguisher.

THE ROAD TO GENEVA

My younger daughter broke her leg shortly before I left for this trip. Her favourite sport is kite surfing but her second favourite is to ride out on her bike. Her kite surfing takes her all over the World. She is probably very frustrated at her inability to go out with both her kite and the bike. I would be mortified if I could not do this trip because of a broken leg.

Our hotel last night was very old world. The atmosphere was comfortable and unlike nearly every European hotel I have stayed in, breakfast was brought to the table. It was croissants, various bread, jam, honey, speciality cheese, a large slice of ham and coffee. The sun was out and we both felt bright eyed and bushy tailed as we set off.

We left the hotel to a huge downhill that was invigorating. Apple orchards, vineyards, fields of cattle and arable crops appeared in this rolling countryside. The land was well cultivated but there were still plenty of trees for us to hear the birds. We stopped briefly to watch a football match.  The sun now warmed up and it is proper spring weather.

We peddled on and Lake Geneva came into view. Today it was pleasing to see lots of cyclists out and before lunch there were not too many cars. We ate pizzas at Nyon.

Our cycle lanes have been well worked out in Switzerland but even the cycle planners could do nothing about the noise from low flying aircraft, motorway traffic and vast numbers of ralway trains as we approached Geneva. This is one of the most prosperous parts of Europe but prosperity comes with a price. The noise, especially from the aircraft was awful. No matter how wealthy you are, surely a healthy lifestyle is more important.

Geneva's waterfront was well worth stopping for. We parked our bikes and drank coffee as we watched people enjoying themselves walking, cycling, boating, talking and enjoying the sunshine. The waterfront is enjoyable with its historic buildings acting as a backdrop.

Cycling out of Geneva however required steely resolve. The cycle planners could do nothing about the 4 lane highways, one way streets, trams, buses, motor bikes and vast numbers of speeding cars. It was heads down for both of us as we joined the mayhem. Luckily Dagmar and I survived and we sped across the French border to find another world. This time there was a continuous uphill, no cycle lanes and lots of French traffic. We arrived at a fine hotel very reasonably priced at Hotel Rey, Saint Blaise. Dagmar jumped for joy.

For Dagmar's version of today, go to her blog

ALPINE MEADOWS IN THE MIST

This morning it was cold and wet when Dagmar, Stefan and I left our hotel. Normally we would not go out in weather like this but we were heading for France and we were up for the challenge. A market was in full swing in the town centre with an inviting selection of delicious fresh produce. We looked without enthusiasm at a huge hill to take out of this city. When half way up, Dagmar's satnav on a rare occasion failed us by taking into a cul-de-sac that involved another hill to lead us out of it. However it was not long before we were cycling through more of those stunning Alpine meadows that we experienced yesterday. The hills took us above the cloud line. We stopped to add extra layers of clothes and as we warmed up we appreciated how the mist gave added atmospheric to this magnificent countryside.

Peddling on, we met a group on their mountain bikes crossing our road above La Sagne. A huge downhill followed where Stefan showed no fear with his bike and trailer arriving in La Sagne well before us. Easier riding now followed to a cafe in the railway station at Les Porits de Martel. The warmth of this place was welcoming and we thawed out sitting beside a large radiator.

Stefan set off on a massive downhill at a speed that would frighten me and when I caught him up at the bottom, he looked at me as if to say "Why are you taking so long?". However I have the legs on uphills and one shortly followed. I had a casual break while waiting at the top. The Gorge de l'Arens followed. We were on a tiny road that twisted and turned its way round the rocks and trees and gave awesome views of the white water river below. There was no time to stop especially as Stefan was throwing his bike around the downhill curves in impressive style. It was time for a break at the bottom.

At the end of the gorge, Stefan had to say goodbye and head for the nearest train station home. His journey was now over. For Dagmar and I, it was overdue for lunch so we stopped in a cafe close to Lac de Neuchatel.

When we left the cafe, it was 3pm. The weather was warmer and the rain had stopped. We cycled along easier roads beside the lake passing through a mixture of woods, camp sites, housing estates and into the town of Yverdon. The sun came out and we stripped down to summer wear. It was now an easy ride and we sped off cycling south in the direction of Lausanne. We decided to stop in a sleepy village if we could find one that had accommodation. Here we are in La Sarraz in the town's hotel. Amazingly the only restaurant open was at the town's swimming pool and it was very good but very expensive. But then everything in Switzerland is very expensive.

JURA, SWITZERLAND

Cowslips were everywhere as we left the Rhine and cycled into the Jura region. These beautiful little yellow flowers are an excellent sign of healthy soils. They were beside our road as we climbed through Gorge du Pichoux. The gorge, small by Swiss standards, towered above us and a little river flowed swiftly the opposite way.  My lights were needed to pass through a couple of tunnels.

Reaching the top we discovered a vast area of open grassland with giant Alpine firs spread haphazardly everywhere. This is cattle and horse country. The cows are Friesian Hosteins producing copious amounts of milk while the horses await their summer holiday visitors still to arrive. The remains of snow drifts could still be seen as we climbed.

At higher levels marsh buttercups, wild daffodils, crocus and other wild flowers carpetted the meadows. My first cuckoo was heard. We stopped for lunch at Bellelay, a town that makes cheese the old way, in Hotel de l'Ours. This translates as Hotel of the Bear. At the farms the cows were still indoors as the grass had not grown enough to let them out. Later two excited children welcomed us as we stopped at a wayside cafe. There are few people here and I suspect the children regarded as novelties. Anyhow they very nervously came up to talk to us gently encouraged by their mother.

The farm houses have the barns attached to the house so cattle, horses and people share the same building. Yet despite their obvious ages, many farms had modern John Deere tractors working in their fields. Our overnight stop is at La Chaux de Fonds.

MAY DAY IN SOUTHERN GERMANY

Last night my bike and Badger arrived by courier exactly when promised. I was very impressed but it was all in bits.

No problem assembling it. Today is May Day here. It is a bank holiday. Many go off on their bikes and walking. It seems many people play practical jokes on one another as well. Dagmar, her partner, Stefan and I meet Stephanie, a keen cyclist and ADFC supporter at the ferry terminal in Friedrichshaven where we catch a ferry to Konstanz and have a day ride cycling west. All is quiet with no practical jokes yet. It is time for coffee in Konstanz and then we peddle off. Dagmar, with Stefan both ADFC supporters, is our guide.

ADFC is the German cycling federation and similar to Sustrans in GB.  The weather starts grey but blissfully the sun comes out. We peddle beside the Rhine and admire picturesque towns, various islands and the landscape. Stephanie and I discuss the differencies and similarities between our countries. We reach the magnificent Rheinfall and are astonished at its grandeur.

Never have I switched between two countries as frequently as Switzerland and Germany. The person who worked out the boundary must have been drunk. One moment we were cycling in Germany, then in Switzerland, then back to Germany and back again. Stephanie leaves us. On a woodland trail shortly afterwards we found a wooden post marking the two countries and the road had become very muddy. Badger was now very happy as he had not been a woodland for months.

We decided to follow the trail into Switzerland partly because a mountain biker said to go this way and partly as it was less muddy. Our day was 105km (67 miles) and we finished to stay in a sports complex that had motel accommodation in Waldshut.