The Queen died yesterday. All of my life has been as a ‘new Elizabethan’, so it is something of a shock to find that she is no longer here. We will have to get used to King Charles III.
This happened while I was taking two rest days, staying with our friends Mark and Harri in their beautiful straw bale house built on a hillside overlooking the upper reaches of the River Dordogne. We had a very restful time, a chance to catch up with life, to talk to our friends about their own lives here in France and to enjoy several delicious meals and to sleep in a proper bed.
But the road beckoned. Getting organised to get back on the saddle after a few days away took a little more time than normal, and I did not set off until about 10 o’clock. Immediately after leaving their house I had to negotiate a long downhill hairpin bend sequence which took me down to the valley floor, and I then picked up the D30 which winds along the banks of the river, passing through the ancient village of Carennac, one of those particularly French communities of houses perched on corners, growing into each other, and attracting large numbers of tourists. A union flag flew from one window, a gesture I guess of sympathy for the passing of the Queen.
There was then a good flat road all the way to St Cere, where I found a café/boulangerie where I could eat two pains aux chocolat while contemplating the rest of the day, which I thought was going to bring the most serious climbing of the ride yet.
Once I was back on the road, my expectations were confirmed. Just out of the town, the D48 started a long uphill climb, winding on upwards at about 8% for over 4 miles. Slowly the wide river valley started to spread out beneath me, and eventually I was on the hilltops pedalling along fairly flat land with magnificent views. I was pleased to pass a sign saying Col de Paudit 610m: almost Tour de France! Then the road dropped down a steady descent to Leyme before climbing again up through the woods to bring me out on a hilltop with an old lime kiln by the side of the road just before the village of Espeyroux where I stopped for my sandwich.
After that I took a left turn along back roads crossing a number of small streams and then rejoin the main road and climbs gently for several miles until I stopped at the village of La Vitarelle. I found some shade by the side of the Mairie building where I stopped for a snack, and was joined by a very curious magpie who hopped around me, pecked at my glasses case and the rubber and my pencil and even tried to eat some of the scabs on the scratches on my leg!
I reflected that during the last few miles I had seen a number of ‘methanisation’ factories, large grey domes sitting alongside large stalls collecting farmyard manure. Clearly they were using the manure to manufacture methane gas, and this had attracted the attention of local environmentalists, who in adjoining fields beside the road had erected large placards explaining why they thought this was a bad idea, making money for a few people, bad for the environment, noisy, smelly, increasing heavy vehicle traffic, and so on. I guess that this is one of the implications of large-scale, industrial farming, but I felt I needed to know more about the whole system before knowing whether it was a good or bad thing. I felt that the environmentalists definitely had a good point though.
From La Vitarelle the D86 meandered south for some miles following a ridge giving me a good view over the surrounding countryside, but then suddenly it dropped rapidly over two or 3 miles down to a river, winding, hairpin bends, forest sections, single track road, definitely what would be called technical. Fortunately I did not see any cars coming in the other direction. This brought me out onto the N22, a major road. My planned route took me across the road, but I spent a little time reflecting on the physical geography of the area. I was in an area of causses, or plateaus, with the plateaus separated by deep-sided, wooded valleys carrying rivers heading south-west towards the Atlantic. My route south meant that I would be constantly crossing these, so would be experiencing a long sequence of fast descents and long, hard ascents on the other side. It was now after 3 o’clock, and I decided that the best thing to do would be to turn right on the main road and cycle south-west down to Figeac, and follow another main road out of town to the Capdenac to the south, working on the logic that main roads have gentler gradients. It worked, and while I had to stick to the edge lines on a main road for a mile or so, I’ve soon crossed the col and am swooping down to Capdenac on a quality road for an invigorating entry to the town.
Then it’s about finding the way out. I head south and take what looks on the map to be a handy road following a river valley towards Naussac. However, the Michelin and IGN maps on my GPS do not tally and I waste a half hour wandering around trying to find the right back road. Eventually I get on it and pedal on up a narrow valley following the river and a railway line which wanders overhead on viaducts a couple of times. Finally I turn out on to the D40 and head along that until I see the signs for Bez, and a final climb of the day gets me up to the tiny village where I find Helen parked up in a walnut farm. A very tranquil place to end the day, after 64 miles and 12,000’ of ascending. 671 miles now done.
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