Day 13: That still isn’t really fast…

The room was getting lighter. Last night I had collapsed into the bed of a cheap hotel on the outskirts of Lyon, and now the room was getting lighter. I grabbed my watch. It was well after dawn and I was still in the same bed. I had forgotten to set my alarm!

I jumped out of bed and looked around the room. I had been exhausted when I arrived, and that was a good thing. I had basically put everything on charge, stepped under the shower, removed and washed my gear (it was starting to need it…), brushed my teeth, done some taping and bandaging and then fallen into bed. That meant that all I had to do now was to put on the clothes hanging in the shower, pack my chargers, toothbrush and medical supplies and then hit the road. The bike was still packed with food from my stop at the dodgy supermarket the previous evening and I was ready to go.

I had been keen for an early start because my route began by taking me right through the middle of Lyon and I wanted to beat the traffic. Happily though the traffic was still pretty quiet even though I was late. As I said before my route planning for France had basically been a case of selecting which bike route to follow, and beyond that I hadn’t looked too hard (or, it could be said, hard enough). I figured the route through Lyon would follow bike paths, but I was disappointed to see that I was approaching a huge tunnel with a very busy road heading into it. Busy tunnels full of cars really aren’t my first choice for where to ride, and I almost did some on-the-fly rerouting, but decided to just go a bit closer and see what happened to the bike lane as it hit the tunnel.

The answer was that it separated into its own tunnel. Fantastic! a 2km dedicated tunnel for bikes. And with hundreds of riders using it I realised why the roads had seemed surprisingly quiet. This is a city that has actually put some effort into making active travel feasible and safe, although of course they don’t think of it as active travel, just travel.

Leaving Lyon there were a couple of climbs but they weren’t too bad. Despite spending some time looking at how the French build a distribution substation I had crossed the worst of the climbs before the temperature got too high, and found a good boulangerie to replenish my energy levels. This was followed up by a pretty nice section of descent before reaching the flatlands of castles and canal paths. The temperature was climbing again and the wind was increasingly strong and gusty, but the paths were often good and I felt like I was making reasonable time.

I was now on my thirteenth day of riding and my mindset had switched long ago from racing flat out to just getting through the ride. I hadn’t seen many other racers away from the checkpoints, but as I cruised along a tow path and under a bridge I looked up and recognised the Tailfin pack of Ben Clay as he rode over the bridge. Suddenly, I remembered it was a race! Barely pausing to shout “Hi Ben” (I don’t think he heard) I put my head down and pedaled, flying along like a bullet that was late for its favourite dinner.

On the topic of dinner, I was starting to get a little hungry, so when I saw a sign pointing off the path for food and drinks I quickly followed it, but I was still in race mode, so my plan was just to grab something super quick to get me through until I stopped for lunch. The advertised establishment was a small shop with a cafe section, and there were half a dozen other cyclists there ahead of me. I waited patiently (not really, Aussies will understand when I say that my inside voice was channeling Blackboard from Mr Squiggle…) while they gave their orders and sat down, and then gave my order: Two filled baguettes, to take away (plus an ice-cream and some drinks). Everyone looked in astonishment. To take away? It was hot out there, and air-conditioned in here. Was I insane? Well clearly I was. I explained that I was in a hurry, because I was competing in a bike race. Everyone was fascinated, if somewhat doubtful.

“Where are the other racers?”

“There is one only a few km behind me, so I have to hurry.” But they still looked doubtful.

“Where are you racing to?”

“Brest.” But that’s miles away, I clearly have no idea of where I am going.

“Where have you come from?”

“Burgas, Bulgaria.” I am clearly lying, no-one would ride that far.

“Where is your team car?”

“No team car, I am on my own, just like the early days of the Tour de France.” What did I take them for, that would never happen.

“Where is your race number?”

I pointed to my cap.

“Sacre bleu, you are in a race!” They were amazed. The patrons leapt from their seats. The baguette maker came out to have a look at my bike. This was amazing! They were impressed! They were excited! They were not making my food!

Looking at my tracking data afterwards that stop took me 28 minutes and 36 seconds. Because I was in a hurry to race out of the shop straight away I didn’t sit down and rest for any of that time. It’s funny, some of that the interactions of that style were fantastic, but others were just frustrating and time wasting. While I was standing anxiously wishing that the baguette maker would make my baguette instead of stopping to listen to what I was doing Ben went sailing past somewhere in the distance, and when I finally got back on my bike I was well behind him. I would have been faster and got a better rest if I’d just ordered, sat down to eat my ice-cream, and then when the food arrived grabbed it and got back on my bike. My only consolation was that in the overall scheme of the race that 28 minutes would make no difference at all. And they were quite good baguettes.

I had a few disappointments over the next three hours, with a couple of paths that I was planning to follow simply not existing, but I consoled myself with the thought that really it wouldn’t make a big difference in the scheme of things.

It was good country to understand that although you might have plans, sometimes what actually happens differs significantly.

By the time I stopped for more food I had slipped out of race mode again. Stopping at a harbour on the canal south of Nevers I realised I was a bit late for most places, but I could spy a cafe with movement, so I went to investigate. At this time it was hot, up in the mid thirties, and it turned out that the people at le Cafe du Canal were basically the manager Maïlys and her mother, who had spent some time in Australia in the past. I quickly asked for as much food as they had, and while Maïlys prepared me a feast of regional specialities I started with a couple of ice-creams. This was met with approval by her mother, a wonderful woman who clearly understood that life should be joyful and desert should be eaten first. When I explained that there would be another desert afterwards she agreed that this was a great philosophy!

It was a delicious late lunch, and because I had slipped out of race mode I was happy to spend the time chatting and generally experiencing the joy of life myself. One of the key principles of this style of racing is to not take along things that you don’t need. I had rejected several potential souvenirs already, but as I stood to leave I was presented with something to remember my stop with. For an instant I considered declining it, and then I realised that it was a postcard, it would slip easily into the side pocket of my frame bag with no trouble, and it was a great thing to take.

I was feeling well rested and replenished after a good stop, so I pushed on for a while before deciding that it was time for dinner. Again it was pretty late in the day, but I was happy to find an open kebab shop, so I went in to get a couple of kebabs, and some chips. The wait was long. By the time my food arrived I was well and truly ready to go, but I paused to eat the first kebab and it was fantastic. Possibly the best kebab I’ve ever had (although I had high expectations from a place called ‘Restaurant Kebab “Chez Ali Baba”‘) although I was glad I had stopped her very quickly as she added chilli sauce, even the little I had was very spicy! I scoffed it down in a matter of minutes anyway, then got back on my bike. This particular place served their take-away chips wrapped in foil. In general I don’t like the idea, but when you want to drop them into your basket and eat them as you ride along it works fantastically, and that’s what I did. The chips sat there well enough wrapped that they wouldn’t bounce out, they were in easy reach and right by my hands so I could easily eat without needing to look at all. They were very good chips too, there was just one small issue.

After a good few tasty chips I reached in in the dark, and felt something wet on my finger. Until that point I hadn’t realised that there was sauce on the chips. Still, a bit of tomato sauce would be a good thing, so I happily sucked it off my finger. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, that sauce was chilli sauce. This time there was no humus or garlic sauce to dilute it, and it felt like my mouth was on fire. I rode along gasping with my mouth open wide, to get air. Of course, what I got was some sort of bug. I’m still not sure what sort of bug, with part of me thinking it must have been a wasp, and another part thinking that the growing pain was just the chilli stepping up to a new level. Anyway, it was enough that for a while a third part of me started thinking about where the nearest hospital was, just in case my throat was about to close up entirely.

The good news was that it didn’t, and after a lot of water and a great deal more swearing I concluded that I wasn’t about to spontaneously combust. I was much more cautious in eating the remainder of those chips though.

The rest of the night was uneventful, a few pauses to check routing options and then I found a handy bivy spot where the trees gave me a bit of shelter from the gentle rain that was falling. I had expected to easily manage over 400km that day, but with a late start, a few overly long stops and the wind being quite a bit stronger than I expected, I only managed 324km. At least tomorrow though I knew it would be fast and flat, and with less than 600km I must surely be able to get most of the way there!