A Paradocs Abroad

The rain cleared, we removed the troublesome mudguards from Doug's bike, and got on the road at 10:00. Fair-warning that this ride story is rather long. But hey, it was a memorable day, and this blog is our diary as well as being entertainment for our family and friends...

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Lots of other riders were out, mostly individuals, but we saw one sizable group. As we climbed out of Saint-Renan on a backroad toward Milizac we caught up to a 50-something guy on a Peugeot. We chatted a bit, and discovered that both he and we were just out to "faire un tour", then Susan picked up the pace. After a few minutes I was surprised that the guy was on our wheel, and even more surprised when he attacked. I wonder if having a woman drop the hammer offended his Breton pride, or if he didn't like being passed by a couple of Canadians (we had our "bug" jerseys on), or if it was just the usual sort of play that often happens when cyclists cross paths. Whatever, I countered, and he attacked again. We exchanged the lead for a while, then he turned off to the left, and we wished him "Bonne route".

Our route took us north-east along the D3 through Coat-Meal, Tréglonou, across the Aber Benôit, through Lannilis to Plouguerneau. There we turned out to the coast to see Ile Vierge and its lighthouse, and a menhir. There is a poster of Ile Vierge covered with a dusting of snow in our bedroom in Saint-Renan, so it was interesting to go and see it. It features a very tall, classic looking lighthouse (phare in French).

The menhir near the Ile Vierge lookout has striated, rounded scallops carved out of it. It's much smaller than Au Tort, and Susan thinks that Obelix could have carried it without help. Neil M suggested that our French lessons in Vanncouver were deficient and that the only friends I am making are menhirs, so I gave this one a hug for good measure. It seems that the tag "menhir" in our Flickr photostream raises the "interestingness" score of an image significantly. And since we seem to be visiting menhirs regularly, I put together a photoset of them.

On the way back to Plouguerneau we realized that the weird, tall skinny house we had seen on the way out is probably part of a coastal navigation range. The gable (triangular bit at the top of the wall, just below the roof tile) on the seaward side is painted bright orange. When viewed from the sea it probably lines up with another structure closer to the shore when your course is correct to pass safely through some of the rocks that litter the coastline here.

In Plouguerneau we stopped for lunch, and marvelled once again about how good the food is in France. €3.60 each bought us a half baguette sandwich of jambon crû (like proscuitto), tomatoes, and chêvre cheese. Eating from the boulongiers and small markets will definitely be in the plan for PBP 2007, instead of spending an hour getting food at each control.

From Plouguerneau we headed east on the D10 through Guisseny, Kerlouan, and then off on the D129 through Goulven to Tréflez. As we had coming up the D3, we kept the pace high, 'cause as well as sightseing, this was supposed to be a training ride - we're riding the Mildenhall 300 km brevet in England in 4 weeks time. Having a tailwind most of the way added the the exhilaration of going hard, but there would be a price to pay later...

At Tréflez we turned north-east on the D110 and followed it, and it's extension on backroads to the coast north of Plouescat where we visited another menhir. This area is definitely holiday land, with camper vans and campsites all over the place. And this weekend was the beginning of the holiday season for many French people, who traditionally spend the month of August in the country, or at the seaside. There are also lots of international tourists; German and English are easily recognized by language, and I'm sure there are others.

The return trip to Saint-Renan was pretty straight, retracing our route to the D110, and through Tréflez to Lesneven. Of course, now we were going into the wind that had helped propel us earlier, and the temperature was in the high 20s. We both ran low on water, and bonked, and were very happy to reach the Central Bar on the main town square in Lesneven. Sorbet for Susan, a half baguette sandwich of "jambon et beurre", "une pression" (250 ml draft lager) for Doug, and our bottle refilled, solved most of our problems.

Our route continued west on D28, then south-west on D38 through Plouvien, Bourg-Blanc, Milizac, and home, where we arrived, hot, tired, thristy, and hungry, with 121 km showing on the bike computers. Our longest ride since arriving in France.

After some recuperation we have a dinner of roast chicken and bread, and then dessert of chocolate crêpes and tea at the crêperie across the market from the house. A fine end to a memorable day.