[I put this series of posts in book form if you’d find that more helpful. It’s pretty much the same without the pictures, videos, and clickable links. You can buy it as a physical book or ebook on Amazon.]
This is the fifth in a series of six comprehensive posts intended to help and motivate you for your own cycling adventure, whether in France or elsewhere. See links to each in the series below:
May 16: Pouillly sur Loire to Nevers – 39 miles
We woke the next morning to the sun shining through intermittent clouds outside. The niceness of the house still intimidated me. I felt like it belonged in a magazine. I wasn’t really sure how much of the house we had access to either. Our host didn’t live there so could we use the living room area? Honestly, I was scared to impose our filth on the finery. I suppose we could have asked other guests and had company at breakfast but as it was just us, we had a lovely breakfast all to ourselves. Our host had put out a fine breakfast, included in the price of the room, and we even had filter-coffee. Europeans seem to favor espresso based coffee and finding what we call drip coffee can be challenging, so for me it was a treat.
Once we’d packed up, we were taking our bikes out of the garage where the fancy Porsche was parked and I was saying how careful we’d been around it when Anders promptly hit it with his pedal. I thought it would be fine since the car was covered but her eyes went very large and she lifted the covering to make check and I got worried that maybe we’d have left a ding or scratch. Luckily the covering protected it. Saying goodbye to the dirty, clumsy Americans at this point probably gave her a sense of relief, so off we rode with a smile and a wave goodbye.
We only made it about 8 miles down the road before we decided we should stop for a coffee and a pastry in the little town of La Charité-sur-Loire. It’s a quiet, compact little town on the river with narrow streets that lead up a slope to the church that I took for a castle at first. We found a little shop, Couleur Café Déco et Salon de Thé, that looked like it offered what we needed and had the added benefit of a friendly owner who good naturedly helped me limp through a very basic conversation in bumbling French (mine, not his). We sat in the cool morning air and watched the town go about their daily business. We live in a small town ourselves and small towns have a certain magic. They are communities as much as locations and it’s more unusual to NOT see people you know in the street and restaurants. I get to spend a few moments chatting and connecting every day that I never got in a proper city. I could see the same thing happening here and it made me happy.
Today was another day of smooth riding on raised Levees with paved bike paths and nice views of the ripening countryside as clouds scudded across an otherwise blue sky. For lunch we decided to cross the Loire again and find something in Fourchambault. The bridge across had pedestrian paths on each side between the bridge girders and a metal railing with the car lanes in the center. The paths were narrow and probably not meant for bikes but we rode across anyway. It was a bit challenging to keep the handlebars from being grabbed by the metal just inches away. As we reached the other side and I was congratulating myself for not wrecking, the metal grabbed my handle bars, turned my front tire, and I rammed into the railing with my thigh. I didn’t hit the ground but I did earn a bruise that covered most of my thigh and stuck with me for the next couple weeks. The spoke protector broke loose again and the front wheel was a bit bent but nothing that required professional attention. Mostly I felt foolish. And a bit sore, too, I guess.
We continued on into town only to find that none of the restaurants were open. The whole town seemed to be empty with only a few people out and about. It was a Thursday so maybe we were just too late in the day for lunch. We managed to find an open SPAR grocery store and load up on more crackers, cheese, and other snacks and found a grassy place to eat. I spent a good 20 minutes cutting up a soda bottle lid and trying to use the plastic to help zip tie the spoke protector back in place. It kind of worked so I secretly congratulated myself and felt a bit like Macgyver.
We kept riding along canals and levees as the sky got less blue and I hoped we wouldn’t spend another afternoon in the rain. We kept seeing a series of round, brass medallions embedded in the path indicating we were only a couple of dozen kilometers from the end of the Loire A Vélo. As you’ll recall, the EV6 and Loire a Vélo share a route for a few hundred miles. From there, the EV6 keeps going SW another couple days and then turns northwest towards Basel and the Alps. When we reached the official start/end we found the “0 KM” medallion and took a few photos and rested. They’d put up some interpretive signs and a little circular concrete slab to mark the end of the trail. I’m not going to lie. Despite the knee pain, stiff legs, rain, and generally slow pace, I felt like I’d accomplished something. We may have done something countless others have done before us, but we also had done something that many more HADN’T. We’d gotten off the couch and onto our bikes. It was nice to take a moment to pat ourselves on the back.
Pedaling on, we found another Pont de Canal. This one wasn’t nearly as ornate as the first one but still fascinating to me. We continued on along more canals with a few pleasure boats motoring along among the ducks and swans. As we rounded a large bend in the Loire and the approach to Nevers, we took a left at a T-junction and followed another canal almost straight into town. We saw more people out recreating and the canal was lined in large part by regularly planted very tall trees giving it a manicured park like ambience. The straightaway made for easy pedaling as we crossed a bridge into town and found our VRBO for the night. The sun was back out and it was starting to warm up which made me glad we had an apartment in a walkout basement. On the other hand, getting our bikes down the stairs and through the apartment to the gravel patio was a bit of a hassle.
Anders took a shower to try and ameliorate his allergies again and I headed out to a grocery store to get some dinner supplies. It’s so much cheaper to cook your own food but it can also be a bit of a challenge when the apartments don’t have much in the way of proper cooking pots, sharp knives, and other equipment we would normally use. Luckily we like pasta which doesn’t require much finesse. My knee which had been fine all day started hurting with the additional walking which was the opposite of what it had been doing but it was manageable and I was glad to have had a day of riding without much bother. It could have been the hard charge up the hill into town that aggravated it.
We made a few calls back home and then I went out to film a CityWalk and explore. The town has its own history to tell and is beautiful but it also has a bit of an edge to it. The streets were mostly quiet and it wasn’t particularly dirty but it just had a slightly more raw vibe. I kind of liked it.
More places to stay in Nevers, France.
May 17: Nevers to Bourbon-Lancy ~52 miles
The next morning we fixed our own breakfast of muesli and yogurt which made up in nutrition for what it lacked in fresh pastries. Still, the sun warmed the cool morning air as we retraced our route out of town along the long, straight, tree lined canal that we’d followed the day before. Today was going to be another long day for us. Again, for seasoned tourers, probably a middling day, but to us it seemed like a lot (well, to me).
We made it back to the canals we’d been following the day before (La canale Latérale à la Loire). And cruised along the mostly tree lined paths for a bit over twenty miles. The ibuprofen and stretching seemed to have worked on the knee pain for the day which let me better enjoy the somnambulant morning workout. We made good time with the only uphill grades appearing when we had to pop up around bridges and canal locks. The canal locks were interesting because they generally had a little cottage like building where the lock operator must have lived in days gone by and perhaps still did in some of them. Canal boating is a whole different mode of transport that must have its own system known to those who use it. There seem to be a variety of types of locks, automatic and manual, manned and unmanned but I never really got a grasp of all that. I contented myself with enjoying the romantic ambiance of the little stone cottages, often with a small flower garden and maybe some benches and a picnic table, quickly soaked in and then left behind as we pedaled on. It was probably simpler to ride bikes than take a boat, but not quite as luxurious.
The morning went by quickly as boaters in their cabin cruisers passed quietly in either direction, with families lounging on deck soaking up the morning quietude and the occasional family of swans with cygnets casually moving out of their way. We passed several other bike tourers and what must have been some sort of day camp with about 30 kids on bikes. They chattered by headed in the other direction with their adult chaperones calmly keeping an eye on things. I struggled to imagine the chaos of a similar situation in the US. We ran into a few more Route Barrée signs that necessitated short detours but nothing too inconvenient.
About halfway through the day, we crossed to the north side of the Loire at the town of Decize. It’s a typical charming French village but with an industrial edge. We stopped on another canal just outside of town that had a light industrial area on the other side and had our snack lunch in the shade of what must have been some sort of cottonwood trees because they were shedding their cottony seeds at a prodigious rate in the gentle breeze. I was glad Anders was only allergic to grass and not this stuff because it was like large snow flakes in a storm.
At Champvert, a few miles on, the path led away from the canals and river and off into the countryside with a mix of various, undulating climbs and descents that offered great views of the rural landscape around. We followed mostly quiet country lanes in this section, often lined with stone fences, hedges, and age old farm houses. We passed small herds of white cattle and sheep in various little groupings of houses, not quite a village but not quite not-a-village. The rolling hills and rock lined lanes reminded me of Virginia or Kentucky hill country and I loved the way the breeze moved over the wheat and grassy fields (poor Anders) in a way that looked like water, highlighted by wild flowers everywhere. The sun held steady and the heat, mitigated by the breeze, strong enough to cool but too weak to be a frustrating headwind when we turned into it in various parts of the route.
I’d picked our next destination of Bourbon-Lancy for it’s distance, proximity to our path, and affordable accommodation. After about 52 miles we reached it in mid afternoon while the skies were still dotted with puffy white clouds. Located in the low hills above the canals, I wasn’t sure what I expected but what I got was the Studios étape du Lac on the outskirts of town. It consisted of some simple rooms on the second floor of what I would have called a small strip mall. It was perfectly adequate for our needs but we’d run into several of these hotels that didn’t fit into our cultural conception of what to expect. That’s a good thing really. Mark Twain famously said “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness,…” and finding the new and different is one of the joys that I get from it. Also, the proprietor who was renovating one of the shops below was nice and welcoming and gave us some options to check out for dinner. At least that was what I thought he was doing considering his lack of English and my persistent lack of French.
The location sat adjacent to a large US sized and style supermarket remade in a French way and also looked more like a warehouse from the outside. Inside though, with some searching, I found lunch supplies for the next day, afternoon snacks, a couple of beers for me and sodas for Anders, and a couple of ice cream bars for the both of us.
Across the street was a large park with a lake (Lac in French) but other than that, just a few odd buildings. After our long day we (rather I) didn’t feel like pedaling into town so we rested up in the room for a bit and Anders tried to shower off the grass pollen. I made some reservations for the next night in Montceau-les-Mines and we enjoyed our snacks and drinks.
For dinner, we chose the restaurant at the Hotel Ibis Styles Bourbon Lancy located down at the other end of the lake from our hotel. While we liked the Ibis brand and would stay in them several times on our trip, this one was a bit pricier than the Studios Étape .
The attached restaurant was a bit fancier than I’d expected but it close enough to not have to ride our bikes. Once we they had seated us we realized that, once again, they had little to offer in the way of vegetarian options. Anders is happy to eat fish so he ended up ordering what we figured must be a skate. These are smaller versions of rays (eg sting rays and manta rays). I wasn’t sure what to expect. When it arrived it looked to me a lot like one of the baby aliens in “Aliens”, cut in half, skinned, and cooked in butter. The ones that crawl in and nest in your body (but without the butter, obviously). It came bathed in a rich cream sauce and not too much cartilage so he seemed happy to eat it and I kept my observations to myself. Afterwards he said he wouldn’t order it again but he enjoyed it because it was something new and different. In my mind, that was a perfect answer.
I splurged on an order of Œuff meurette façon Bourguignonne which was poached eggs in a red wine sauce and Faux-Filet Charolais aux herbs de Provence. Both of these were like a sensory punch in the face they were so flavorful. So good and the beef so tender. As I’ve mentioned, I’m not much of a foodie but after lots of cheese and crackers and pizza, having some local cuisine with local flavors made for a wonderful new experience. There are a few core doorways for getting to know a culture and food is one of them.
More places to stay around Bourbon-Lancy.
May 18: Bourbon-Lancy to Montceau-les-mines – 62miles
The next morning I woke up early to grey skies. The manager had said he’d be back early in the morning but I wasn’t sure exactly what time. It turns out it wasn’t until after 8. Unfortunately, we needed him to unlock the shed where we’d stowed the bikes. I took the opportunity to go next door and buy some coffee and pastries from the supermarché.
My eagerness to get going was not only based on the fear of missing our chance to get our bikes back but also in the fact that we had the longest day yet ahead of us: 62 miles. I’ll say it again, some might scoff at me calling this a long day and that’s fine. For them, it probably is, but for us, it was a big one and intimidating and the rain gods looked like they might be coming along for the ride.
Once back on our bikes and packed up, we headed out at about 9 a.m. Or I should say, back, to the supermarché to get Anders some pastries and some seconds for me. As we headed out of town, a few sprinkles began to fall. On the upside, we had paved, well signed bike paths to follow as it descended towards the river and canals. They led us under lines of trees that reached their canopies over over top of us as we rolled by large walls with the occasional glimpse of fine manors beyond. Trees with white flowers sprang up intermittently on the side away from the canal and their blooms fell to the path leaving it speckled with contrasting black and white. On the downside, the rain came on full force and I realized I’d forgotten to take the ibuprofen that morning.
We found shelter under a bridge and had some snacks. Better late than never, I downed a couple IB and tried to stretch my leg and knee as best I could. Neither one of us was particularly cheery at that moment, especially since the rain didn’t look like it was going to lessen any time soon. Eventually, we decided we needed to get going and headed back out into the weather, which mercifully eased up not long after we started going.
The leg was just stiff and painful enough to be annoying but not enough to be a real problem. The rain continued on and off, sometimes light, sometimes heavy, sometimes none at all. While unpleasant, it didn’t create as much misery as you might think. I was with my kid and we were rolling through the French countryside on amazing infrastructure. We passed through small villages and collections of farm houses where chickens roamed free and the cows and sheep grazed behind fences. It’s easy to feel sorry for myself sometimes but a lot harder when I look up and see all the things to be grateful for.
The going was pretty smooth until midway through when we hit some climbs outside Paray-le-Monial. These steep climbs made me think that maybe, for the first time, these weren’t “fine” and some people might have trouble with them. I was certainly one of those people but I just followed my practice of putting the bike in its lowest gear and repeating my mantra “Just keep pedaling, just keep pedaling” as I watched Anders climbing seemingly without effort way out ahead. Perseverance pays off and studies have shown that when most of us feel ready to quit, we actually still have about 60% more endurance to go. While uncomfortable, I kept astonishing myself at the top of each hill how tired I actually wan’t, if that makes sense.
We again rolled through rolling country reminiscent of the farm lands in parts of Kentucky and Virginia. We had more climbs and more descents as we passed by a few country estates that must have belonged, at one time at least, to wealthy elites including the Chateau de Digoin Palinges. Notable for its domed towers and gardens, it’s important enough to have an entrance fee but not important enough for us to take a break. Plus it looked closed and I didn’t research it until long after we’d passed it by.
As we continued on we saw a few other lovely estates nestled into the hills and valleys and burgeoning fields. We also saw some more active farms that lacked the grace and elegance of the fine homes but also reminded me that we weren’t in a theme park. People lived and worked here with their families and friends and communities. I find it easy to forget the “People” aspect sometimes when we travel. I like to try to remember that those who reside in the places we visit have the same wants, and desires, and needs as my family and I. We’re all more alike than news articles talking and social media posts about “Them” would have us believe.
Eventually the route allowed us to descend back to the river valleys. I’d been trying to not think too much about mileage and not check my phone too often. Instead I tried to distract myself from the grind of the day with noticing all the things above. Trying to be present. Sometimes it simply blows my mind that simple little animals like us have created over the millennia such robust and intricate cultures and technology and societies. That we exist at all, much less have the ability to fly across the globe and ride a vehicle built from a variety of parts from all over the world just amazes me. It’s awe inspiring and gratitude inspiring.
While the route leveled out, it also put us onto another fairly busy roadway. Thank goodness for French traffic laws and drivers but still we felt the stress and anxiety as vehicles whizzed past at speed. As before, the roads at least let us make good time. We rolled into the outskirts of Montceau-les-mines around 3pm which means we’d made pretty good time despite the rain and hills.
Montceau-les-mines is, as the name suggests, a former mining town. It definitely had an industrial vibe to it as we pedaled towards the center. I’m sure the grey skies didn’t help the effect. That said, the town felt perfectly safe and welcoming despite the occasional decaying remnants of past industries on the outskirts. We rode through the small center of town and found our hotel, Le Konine – Hotel & Bar & Restaurant, on the other side around 3:30.
I made almost all of the reservations for this trip through booking.com since you can earn a higher status that gives you up to 10% discounts on stays and the listing clearly said we couldn’t check in until 5. But I’d kind of hoped to find someone behind the desk to let us check in earlier. That was not the case. Nestled between a canal, a busy road, and a parking garage, we didn’t see any easily accessible cafés. We’d pretty much pedaled enough for the day and our energy had sunk low enough that the idea of venturing out in search of a place to wait lacked any appeal. Without much cover from the light on-again-off-again rain, we stood there wondering what to do when at 4, someone came back to the desk early and happily let us check in. I found this willingness to accommodate a lot on our trip.
We stored our bikes in a conference room that had a door to the outside and headed up to our room. Anders showered off the grass pollen and I headed across the busy road to an Aldi which was the nearest grocery store. Apparently you can find Aldi’s in the US now but I’d only seen them in the UK and in France. Their stores are pretty bare bones with great prices but limited selections. You might find umbrellas and bulk brie but not find the crackers that every other store has. Then the next week, the whole balance has shifted. And bring your own bags. In any case, I bought what I could and headed back to the hotel to rest my weary legs.
Certain chores can’t be avoided or delayed. Grocery shopping was one and feeding ourselves was another. The hotel restaurant was closed so we headed back into town around 6 to find something but not much appealed or was open. About 6:30 we found a nice little restaurant on the main street that runs through the center and ended up having a lovely dinner nearly by ourselves. Anders got his usual pizza but I ventured to get a roast duck breast with a side of potatoes au gratin. It was a flavorful wonder and one of those meals that help me understand how people become so interested in food. This made two fancy meals in two days. I was spoiling myself.
Without much energy left or much to see or do in the town center, we walked back to the hotel to a decent room and some well earned rest. While I’d felt intimidated by the 62 miles and we definitely had had rough weather and challenging climbs (for us), I actually felt pretty good. I felt pretty tired but not crushed and I thought we’d earned our nights rest.
More places to stay in Montceau-les-Mines.
May 19: Montceau-les-mines to Chalon sur Saȏne ~41 miles
We looked at the map and decided that despite the 41 miles distance for today, we’d take a slow morning. The weather called for sunny skies and the maps said our route ran mostly downhill. I even splurged on an expensive hotel breakfast and it turned out to be completely worth it. We loaded up on quality food, real eggs, and plenty of protein like bacon, salami, and cheeses. They also had put out muesli, yogurt, fresh fruit, and pastries. It felt good to start the day off right.
Despite the long ride the day before, we both felt pretty good as we pedaled out of Montceau-les-Mines around 10. True to the forecast, we had sunny weather and blue skies as we rode out of town. It was to be another day of following the canals. We started off with plenty of suburban houses on the far bank that rapidly turned into tree lined gravel through the country side. The trees gave some welcome shade as the day warmed up and we began to see other bike riders and quite a few cabin cruisers on the canals. Today was a Sunday and people were enjoying it.
We passed several boats that looked to be setup as micro-cruises, with dining rooms and on deck seating. It looked very plush but I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of sedentary travel just yet.
About mid morning we hit a section of descending locks. You could look ahead for a couple of miles and see that it just kept following a gentle, stepped descent. I was so pleased with it that I forgot to take any photos. I can tell you it was a welcome site to me. For about twenty minutes, we could pedal just enough to keep coasting on the flats and let gravity do the rest. From there we mostly followed more canals with the occasional “port” where the bigger boats moored up in certain areas. The boats were of various vintages and stages of upkeep but I found it interesting to see such boats on such small waterways.
I also started to notice a slight change in the architecture and topography as we rode along. Slightly more germanic maybe? I’m not good at defining various building styles. It struck me though that one of the differences in traveling so far so slowly is that the regional changes in architecture, food, and geography would be slow as well. Perhaps it would be slow enough that we might not notice at first.
With all the easy pedaling we made good time. We rolled into Chalon sur Saône in the early afternoon, leaving one canal path on the main route, turning onto another canal side route that would lead to our hotel. Just shy of our hotel we ran into a situation where Google maps directed us to take the wrong direction on a narrow off ramp for a busy primary road. After some noodling our way through the map, we eventually found a way across the main road and found a funny little circus setting up in the parking lot of a shopping center. They had the exotic animals tied up under the shade of trees in the median. Not elephants and lions but we passed by camels and emus and the like with only a single electrified tape between them and freedom. The things you see when you get off the main tourist track and take your time.
We looped around the shopping center to find our hotel for the night: the Hotel Ibis Styles Chalon sur Saône. Ibis is similar to one of the US chains in what to expect. They have several different brands that serve different levels of pricing. This one seemed fairly nice if a bit more than I’d like to spend, but then, most are since I’m kind of cheap. The hotel was quiet and we were allowed to put our bikes in a smallish storage room that served our needs fine. Since we arrived on Sunday and we were on the outskirts of town we decided not to go into the center to try to find a restaurant, opting instead for simple pizzas at the hotel bar. Not every day can be a big site seeing day and we chose to relax in our room while I typed up notes and made some plans for the coming days.
More places to stay in Chalon sur Saône.
May 20: Chalon sur Saȏne to Dole 60 miles
The next morning brought more clear skies and another wonderful breakfast. I’ve definitely tried to keep my calories down at breakfast but I’ve rarely been conscious of trying to get enough calories. These long rides though definitely go easier if I get enough protein and fiber. The fiber isn’t just for regularity, it actually feeds our gut biota and improves insulin response. This means the energy lasts longer rather than burning hot and then crashing. I love the pastries but good whole foods make me feel way better during a full day on the bikes.
Finding our way back to the EV6 meant navigating that busy road again but this time the traffic direction of the exit underpass was in our favor which saved us some time and effort of the previous days detour. We followed the canal path back almost 3 miles to the EV6. That seemed a lot extra on what was going to be another long day for us. On the other hand, we had beautiful weather again and we passed numerous people out spending their day fishing on the banks.
It actually reminded of ice fishing in the states. People had come out with their car or cart and setup tents and blankets and barbecues. They’d put their poles on stands next to some camp chairs and made a day of it. I loved seeing people out with their families and friends just enjoying the day.
We followed mostly rural roads that led us to the Saône river that runs mostly north south and flows into the Rhône at Lyon. We had a few more detours and the route was a little rougher than previous days which slowed us down, that and for the first time, the signage wasn’t especially clear. In late morning we rolled into Verdun-sur-le-Doubs, where the Doubs river meets the Saône, in search of some food and shade.
The quiet town had the typical French rural charm and a busy little supermarket tucked away on the edge of town. I’m having a hard time using words to convey the charm and the individuality of these little towns. While they all had similarities, they also had unique character. This little down seemed nestled in a verdant, wooded area along the river and rather than a long main street lined with shops, it had a more central core with a bridge, a large church, and a shaded mini park above the river. It gave the impression of being more circular than linear.
We’d burned through most of the calories from breakfast and so the fact that grocery stores in other countries tend to have their own organizational rationale was less charming than annoying. Never the less, the large store we found on the edge of town had what we needed. We eventually located our typical crackers, bread, cheese, and fruit and got in line. One thing about European grocery stores is that they generally expect you to weigh your own fruit and veggies. The enter a code into the scale and the machine spits out a pricing sticker that they scan at the checkout register. When we got to the check out, we realized that we’d forgotten to weigh the fruit and Anders had to go back, weigh it, and stand in line again. He was a pretty good sport for a hungry teen.
While wandering around the store we’d run into a group of about 4 or 5 Americans. They were roughly my age and it was nice to chat with them for a bit. I love trying to immerse into the local culture while traveling. It can be quite a challenge to actually engage with locals but it’s always rewarding when you can make it happen. That said, it takes a lot of energy to do that and so when an opportunity arises to engage with people from our own culture in our own language, it can feel a bit like a safe harbor or a rest stop for the mind for just a little moment.
It turns out they were cruising the canals and the Saône river with their wives and it sounded like they were having a good time. Anders and I made our way back into town and found the little pocket park with a large shade tree and bench above the river where we sat down for our picnic. We looked down at the boats in the river below and saw the guys from the grocery store getting onto their boat. It looked like a fun way to spend a week with friends, now that I saw how they were doing it, but I wasn’t envious. I was enjoying my time with Anders, rolling through the countryside burning calories, problem solving and discovering, and trying to immerse myself in France.
The day continued to warm up and verge on hot as we left Verdun-sur-le-Doubs. The condition of the paths along the Saône continued to be on the rougher side and made the riding a bit harder. By rougher I mean packed gravel rather than the paved surfaces we’d been enjoying earlier. Our pace slowed a bit as a consequence. By mid afternoon we were both ready for a break. We managed to find a quiet bar with outside seating and treated ourselves to a cold beverage and a snack. I stretched my knee out as best I could and got calories into Anders. It was a nice respite and getting back on the bikes took some motivation but we did it. A couple miles out of town we crossed through the countryside to the Doubs river to the south and rolled into the medieval town of Dole around 5 pm.
We pedaled up the fairly steep hill into town in search of our Apartment for the night, slowed by the heat and our fatigue. The town of Dole is compact and old but also lively and charming. It’s not very expansive but does seem to stretch vertically more than other towns we’d ridden through. Not with modern steel and glass but with age old stone and wood. We managed to locate the apartment but had a hard time figuring out the code to get in. I had a message on my phone with the information but the older I get, the less patient I am with technology. I really don’t want to learn how to navigate your slick new app or read, type, or do research of any kind on my phone if I can help it [old man harrumphing noises], especially after a long day in the saddle. Once I got over myself and we gained entry, we found a private courtyard in which to lock our bikes and a wonderful 3rd story apartment with some nice views.
We rested for a bit, made a call home, and then went out to find food. We ended up at another pizza place as the skies opened up with a heavy rain. We didn’t mind though. We sat inside and enjoyed pizza and beer and a creme brûlée for dessert as the rain fell outside.
It had been a hard day. Even Anders dragged a bit. The rougher paths and lacking signage made the going slower than we’d hoped. Ironically, the nice weather made it worse because when we stopped, we just wanted to relax and enjoy it. I’d just wanted to sit at a café and soak in the ambiance but we needed to cover miles and so we grinned it out. Plus, 60 miles is a long way for us. It made those early 40 mile days seem easy. Luckily we only had 36 miles the next day to Besançon followed by our next, very welcome rest day.
More places to stay in Dole, France.
May 21: Dole to Besançon ~36miles
We had a slow start to our morning. The sun streamed in through the windows as we had muesli and coffee for breakfast. It was nice just to look out at the city from either side and up high and listen to the subtle sounds of life there. Voices and birds came through clearly since most of the car traffic was slow and sparse. Eventually we motivated enough to go out in search of food. The standard CarreFore express didn’t have much of what we were looking for but we picked up a few things to at least snack on. As we headed back to the apartment to grab the bikes, we found a better grocery store and a boulangerie that beckoned.
We each grabbed a pastry and ordered a couple of paninis to go. In the bustling shop a nice lady tried to help translate for us. She was aghast however that we didn’t want the paninis heated. I couldn’t quite get across that we were going to eat them later. I suspect that’s a strange concept in France. Why would you not eat something the way the maker intended you to eat it? Perhaps she’s never bike toured.
Back to the apartment to load up the bikes and head out. We dropped back down to the Doubs River and the canals that follow along it. We rode out of town along another lovely tree lined canal, quiet except for our tires on the path and the birds in the trees. The country side is much hillier here away from the river valley but the well made quiet paths made pedaling a joy. We soon crossed over the canal and rode next to the Doubs off to the side, the current moving much faster in the hillier country. It seemed more like a highland river than the flat and brown waters of the lowland Loire. On the other side we had steep cliffs and hill sides similar to Appalachia in the US.
We passed through various towns, though fewer and farther between, and even rode through a tunnel beneath a tower straddling the path and then a couple through the cliffs. We passed several locks and weirs and then passed some more. At one point we came across a construction project with “Route Barré” signs and I looked up at those hills to the sides and worried we might need to climb up and around but we found our way past and continued on. We lunched in a little park by the river and Anders, since he was in a rock climbing phase, climbed a boulder and part of a cement powerline pylon. I’d also like to add that our cold paninis were just fine but, admittedly, would have been better heated.
The day changed to fairly cool and overcast at this point but the sun started to come out again after lunch. We began alternating between following the Rhône-to-Rhine canal and the Doubs through the wooded hills and it had a very romantic feel as we were tucked in by the folds of the landscape. A few miles outside of Besançon, I had to stop because my knee was acting up. I’d forgotten to take my ibuprofen that morning and I was paying the price. We crossed an ancient, blue, steel bridge and found a little park in a little village to sit down and stretch and snack. I can’t overstate how peaceful it is to sit in a little village between the hills with what was now a mountainous river valley in France. It was so quiet with little to no traffic or music or billboards. No mowers or sprinkler systems or sirens. It was lovely.
But, we needed to press on to Besançon so back on the bikes we went and pedaled onwards. At one point we had a fairly steep ascent and a short stint on a busy road. I reverted to my low and slow mantra and we soon dropped down on the other side to find a little canal tunnel under the hill. This was a new one but Anders had read of one in Besançon that he was looking forward to as much as I’d looked forward to the canal bridges.
Besançon sits on a strategic oxbow bend of the river Doubs on the edge of the Jura mountains and near the border with Switzerland. The peaks of the oxbow have a commanding view of the valley and city below. It’s nestled in the Rhône-Rhine corridor which has been a major transportation route through history. We reached Besançon in early afternoon and pedaled right past the long tunnel under the large oxbow hill on which sat a major 17th century fortification. Besançon also lies on the historically contested border of previous empires. More about that tomorrow. Taking the tunnel would have bypassed the city so we saved that for after our rest day. Instead, we followed along the Doubs river past marinas and parks and what looked like the walls of smaller supporting fortifications. We passed through city parks with large Sycamore trees and crossed back over the river to our hotel, the Ibis Centre de la Ville. It was a sleek, modern looking place and the woman at the front desk was easy for me to understand. Perhaps my French was improving.
The hotel had responded to a message I’d sent about storing our bike and told me we’d need to pay a garage fee to store them. I was all prepared to argue the point and filled with nervous, self-righteous indignation but, as usual, it was misplaced and unnecessary. In the end, they never mentioned a fee and they just directed us down to a bike area in the parking garage. We got our bags into the room and it was still early afternoon.
Anders wanted to go out and walk around a bit but I think he wanted to do it on his own. We started out together but he was a bit on the surly side and walking fast so I gave him some money and sent him off to explore on his own. I think we both needed a little solo time so I found café in a tree filled park and sat and had a beer amongst the locals. I enjoyed just sitting and thinking and watching the populace go by or socialize at the other tables.
Anders and I had set up our phones so we could track each other and when he was done with his walk he came and found me. It was a bit early for dinner still so we settled for a chocolate covered waffle from a stand nearby. We were both in better spirits at this point, helped a bit no doubt by the waffle, and returned to the hotel for a little rest.
For dinner we found a place in the busy river front area that served Alsatian type food. I had a flatbread pizza style dish with white sauce, cheese, mushrooms and ham. Eating the local dishes enhances the travel experience for some reason. It really wasn’t that different from a pizza but knowing it was a local type of dish made it more special and enjoyable. It probably helped knowing we had a “rest” day the next day as well and we headed back to the room to start relaxing.
More places to stay in Besançon, France.
May 22: Besançon – Rest Day
Besançon was a great choice for a day off. Thanks to Anders for that. It is a largish city in eastern France, near the border with Switzerland. The old city center lies on the inside of a horseshoe bend on the Doubs River. The sprawling Citadel of Besançon, designed by vaunted fortress designer, Marquis de Vauban in the 16th century, perches on a hill above and is home to 3 museums, a zoo and 600 meters of ramparts. At the foot of the hill, Besançon Cathedral has a unique 70-dial astronomical clock that indicates sunrise and sunset, eclipses, and tides in French ports. Near the Cathedral are some ruins dating back to the time of the Romans. The city has roots in watchmaking which have translated into a hub for microtechnologies today. But for us it was an opportunity to take a day off from pedaling.
In the morning we got up around eight and opted to find breakfast in town. We crossed the bridge by our hotel on stiff legs and found a modern boulangerie with all the charm of a fast food chain. But, it got the job done of providing our daily intake of pastries and protein and caffeine. We headed back to the hotel and when Anders asked me for the addresses of the hotel for the next stop, I realized I’d made a reservation in the completely wrong town. I’d booked us a room in a town along the route that was only 22 miles away which would be a short day indeed. I’m still not sure how exactly that happened but I chalked it up to fatigue and just the sheer amount of variables and options floating around in my head. I like simple and logistics had gotten complex on a couple of days.
I sent a request to the hosts hoping to cancel via the booking.com app with little hope since I was well within the no-cancelation window but hope springs eternal. In this case, that’s all it did but I can’t blame the hosts. I made the mistake and they clearly posted their policies. In the mean time, I made a new reservation in Montbéliard which was an additional 36 miles along the route. At this point, I no longer found that to be that intimidating, especially after a “rest” day.
In addition to that, it seemed like we’d make Basel with time to spare after all. I really wanted to head back out to the coast of Normandy and see the D-day beaches, the Bayeux tapestry, and possibly Mont St. Michel. In retrospect, we probably should have ridden this route in the other direction, but I’ll talk about that and more lessons learned near the end. Either way, it required a new round of research and planning on how to get us and our bikes back across the country and I also needed to line up some bike boxes for the flights home. Things were getting complex again.
But today was a rest day. We opted to split up and Anders went off to explore the city a bit on foot, hoping to find some hills to climb and probably just have some more time to himself. I decided to catch a train back to Dole to film a CityWalk since I didn’t make it happen while we were there.
Figuring out local transportation, or any transportation, in a new place always seems to end up feeling more complicated than it should. That’s on me, the newcomer, not the system. I’m sure the locals navigate their networks without much thought but understanding the intricacies that other people just know by nature can prove challenging. So, when I successfully found the right tram stop, bought a ticket, and got the correct tram out to the train station, all without too much confusion or stress, I had to give myself and the network designers a happy pat on the back. It really was just as straightforward as those things should be and given all the other logistical hurdles rising up in my mind, I really appreciated it.
As I arrived at the station, I saw that the entryway was decorated with a circular green space of what looked like wild flowers enveloping a large bust of a young woman with a cat on her shoulder. It reminded me of TravelingMel and I took a couple of photos to send to her. By now, I had buying a train ticket with my phone down pat and I was glad for its simplicity as well.
The day couldn’t seem to make up its mind if it would rain or not as I got on the train back to Dole. I hoped it would hold off raining long enough for me to film my walk but I had an umbrella just in case. Like Besançon, Dole’s station was on the edge of town but since it’s a smaller town, I could walk back to the center. I wandered around the city filming as I went. I re-walked some of the areas we’d seen on our brief stay and ventured down new streets and paths exploring as well. I even ducked into the cathedral briefly, all while the grey skies broke apart now and then to let some sunshine and blue skies through. I really do like this way of exploring a place.
I finished my walk and went by the boulangerie we’d visited before and picked up a sandwich to go, this time without scandalizing the locals by taking it cold. I headed back to the train station and found my return train busy with teens. I’m not sure if they were heading home for lunch or the end of the school day but they gradually filtered off as the train stopped at each little village and town.
Back in Besançon, I caught the tram back to the center like I’d been doing it my whole life, and enjoyed traveling back through various parts of the city that I likely wouldn’t have seen just on foot. I met up with Anders and we returned to our known known of a breakfast place where Anders got a sandwich and I snuck in the one I’d already bought back in Dole. He’d had a good walk and was in pretty good spirits once the calories started to take.
We headed up the hill towards the citadel and my legs were not loving it. I recently read something that said when most of us reach the point we want to quit, we actually have another 60% or so left in the tank. I’m trying to remind myself of that in these situations now and motivate to keep going. Fortunately, the city offered us plenty to see to keep us occupied. We talked a bit about the architecture of the beautiful buildings along the way and at the base of the hill, we took in the columned Roman theater in a small shaded park right across from the cathedral.
There’s probably a name for this, but as al non-religious American, I reach a saturation point with pretty cathedrals. At some point, it’s just hard to get excited. They are all beautiful and have unique attributes that make them special but the level of awe begins to decrease exponentially. We wandered around the dark interior of this cathedral for a few minutes and soaked in what we could but it didn’t inspire us enough to pay to see the celestial clock. Instead we headed back out into the sunny/cloudy day and resumed our climb up steps and slopes to the fortifications above.
I won’t go into minute details of the fortress here. It’s very impressive in and of itself but what I really found profound and moving was the Museum of Resistance and Deportation. The museum is housed within the walls of the fortress and documents the resistance to the Nazi occupation of the region and the deportation of jewish people and others seen as unfit for Nazi White Nationalism. I found it very powerful, moving, and distressing. It’s something that never should have been necessary and we should never allow to happen again, at home or abroad.
Many people died resisting and just trying to survive the occupation and if you ever get the chance to visit Besançon, I can’t recommend that museum enough. Perhaps it’s just the times we’re living in.
After the museum, we walked the walls and gazed out on the surrounding countryside and river below. As we climbed yet another rampart, the skies released what they’d been holding back all day and a heavy rain drove is into one of the tower block houses that was the only shelter within easy reach. The temps fell and we watched the rain move in sheets across the hills and valleys all around. We waited for awhile and finally decided we were ready to head back down to the city, rain or no rain, and set out down the steps and cobble stones of the city. The rain let up not long before we reached our hotel and we finally got some of that rest we’d been looking forward to on our “rest” day. In all honesty though, the muscles for walking and pedaling are different and it was nice to have a day out of the saddle.
For dinner we headed back into town and while searching for someplace good to eat, we heard banging and shouting coming down the street. At the time, there was political rioting and protesting in New Caledonia involving the Kanak people there. I still don’t really fully understand the nuance of it all but tonight’s protest was quite peaceful. Grownups were marching with flags and signs in one hand and kids in the other. It was actually kind of nice to see.
After another pizza dinner, we returned to the hotel and I researched bike shops in Paris and sent out several emails asking if they could hold any spare boxes for us for our flights home. Apparently, most shops are small and space is at a premium so they tend to break down their used boxes quickly to get rid of them. Time would tell if I’d get any responses.
I’d like to finish up this bit with a couple of quotes I found posted in the Museum of Resistance and Deportation. I found these to be deeply profound, poignant, and pertinent especially as the world seems to be spiraling into chaos faster than ever in my lifetime.
“Words can be like tiny doses of arsenic: They are swallowed unnoticed, appear to have no effect, and then after a little time the toxic reaction sets in after all.” -Victor Klemperer, Lingua Terti Imperii,1947
“Hold a bee tight in your fist and it will suffocate. But it won’t suffocate without stinging you. Small comfort you say. Yes, small comfort. But if it didn’t sting you, the bee would have died out long ago.” – Jean Paulhan, “The bee” The Liberation Notebooks, No 3, February, 1944
May 23: Besançon to Montbéliard ~ 58miles
The next day we woke to heavy rain. That dampened my spirits as much as the city outside. I think mentally I was kind of done with the ride. It wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying it. It was just that my mind had moved on to other things. And it was raining. Again. We had just three days of riding to do to reach Basel at this point. Granted, we still had 110 miles or so to go in the saddle but we’d come so far and done some big days so that didn’t sound like that much. And, honestly, it’s not that much, given the gentle grades and amazing paths. But, despite our claims to being funnists and not purists, we both wanted to complete the route. Despite the rain.
We headed down to a bustling and middling hotel breakfast and tried to load up on good calories while we watched the rain trickle down the lobby windows. We packed up our stuff and took the elevator and stairs back down to the parking garage to rejoin our bikes. As we loaded up, the rain mercifully eased to a sprinkle. We found our way out of the garage and retraced the route we’d taken into town. We could have easily take a shorter route and rejoined the EV 6 on the northeast side of the fortress hill but we wanted to take the long tunnel underneath that had been carved out for canal boats and bicyclists. In some ways, it’s just a tunnel, but much like the canal bridges, the tunnel had an air of uniqueness and specialness. The fact that no cars or trains use it sets it apart somehow.
Emerging on the other side and leaving the city, we followed wonderful paved paths through the forested valley. Sometimes along canals next to the river and sometimes next to the river itself. At one point a single military jet suddenly roared overhead giving us a bit of a surprise. I was shocked at how suddenly it had managed to appear. Having grown up int he 80s with the cold war threat of Soviet invasion always at the fore, it made me glad we’d managed to avoid that particular scenario and to appreciate a small bit of what soldiers in current war zones might have to fear. The explosive roar and raw power of it created a real sense of awe and intimidation.
Around lunch time we came to some long but fairly manageable climbs along country roads that led above the valley and past several farms and small groups of houses. The skies persisted in their dour grayness but at least the rain had stopped. We descended back down towards the river and found a little town of Clerval. Not finding much in the way of sandwich shops, we settled on a pleasant bench by the river and dug into crackers, cheese, and fruit; our usual fair. The sun popped out for a bit making it even more enjoyable and pleasant.
We followed this with more miles along the canal/river for the rest of the the afternoon. The skies returned to grey but spared us the rain. As we reached the outskirts of Montbéliard, my knee pain kicked in again. It stayed manageable but I really hoped it wouldn’t last for the rest of the day. The next two days should be fairly easy if I could make it to the hotel today.
Unfortunately, the last mile or so to the motel was up a fairly good hill. Anders led the way and I reverted to my low and slow strategy, all the while trying to use different food and leg positions to minimize aggravating my knee. We reached the motel on the outskirts of the city and it was a true “motel” in that it was meant for people traveling by car. We passed by a couple of shopping centers and groups of houses that lined the main road. We at least had a path to ride on separate from the traffic. Despite its location, the hotel had the benefit of being fairly cheap and available.
We arrived in mid-afternoon to a very quiet Hotel Ibis Budget Montbéliard. The climb and humidity had left us hot, sweaty, and tired (well, I was tired). The manager/owner welcomed us and checked us in quickly. I had written ahead and been assured there would be a place to store the bikes but was surprised when, instead of a shed, closet, or conference room, he gave us a handicapped accessible room and said we could just keep the bikes in there. Since it had plenty of space for people that needed mobility, the bikes fit just fine. I felt a bit of guilt of taking the specially equipped room and hoped that no one who might need it would go without an adapted room but figured the manager would be a better judge of these things than me.
After resting, getting some snacks from the vending machine in the lobby, and showering, we headed out down the hill to a pizza place I’d found on google maps. Despite feeling tired from the long day, my legs actually still seemed fairly strong and I enjoyed the pleasant walk back down the hill.
The pizza place had a very American chain restaurant vibe, except for the French speaking staff and menus. The pizza was fine and what the ambiance lacked in charm, it made up for in comforting familiarity. They call it a “comfort zone” for a reason and finding one after weeks of venturing mildly outside of my own for a couple weeks was a pleasant change. Not every adventure has to be epic and little rests are allowed.
I later learned that Montbéliard is a lovely little city with a cathedral and museums and local charm. Had we stayed closer to the center we could have enjoyed French ambiance instead of the corporate monoculture of chain restaurants and hotels that I had found an hours comfort in. Honestly though, I was pretty tired and one of the lessons I’ve learned over years of travel is that you can never see everything. I just have to accept and enjoy what I can while I’m there. In this case, that meant rest.
Backup the hill we stopped in a shopping center with a grocery store and loaded up for the next day. I also received a very welcome email from Olivier at Jour de Vélo in Paris saying they would hold back two bike boxes for us at the Bastille area shop in Paris. This removed a huge weight of background anxiety off my shoulders. Had we stayed the first night in Paris, we probably could have arranged to have our original bike boxes stored for us until we returned (staying in the same hotel of course). However, we didn’t do that and now I had to make sure we could box up our bikes for the trip home. Since I wasn’t sure how long that would take, I wanted to get the boxes ahead of time. I’d heard that the AirFrance desk might have them or a luggage storage place in the Airport but I found the reports of these on older posts in touring forums and they seemed fairly iffy. Even though this was the only response we got, it was positive. On the down side, they would only be open the day before our flight out. (They took Sundays and Mondays off). If wires got crossed and someone accidentally threw them out, I’d be in a pickle. But, I couldn’t do much about that now, so I focused on planning what I could.
We’d decided we’d have time to make it back to the coast after Basel and in the hotel I lined up train tickets and hotels for our trip back over to Normandy. These things can get convoluted with train times, hotels, and getting things around in the right order and with the hotel mistake from the previous day in my mind, I dithered over committing to a schedule. Eventually I concluded that we’d just have to roll with any errors or omissions that might come up and started booking things.
It worked out that we’d end up spending a full day in Strasbourg and with a stop in Colmar on the way. We wouldn’t be riding much at that point but the bikes would gets us from the stations to the hotels etc. But enough of that. It was time for a well earned sleep.
More places to stay in Montbéliard, France.
May 24: Montbéliard to Mulhouse ~35miles
As per usual, we woke up and grabbed breakfast at the hotel. It wasn’t great but good enough to get us through what I now thought of as relatively short day. It occurred to me that we probably could have made Basel today since it wasn’t even as far as the previous day. Oh well, we weren’t in this for the speed or mileage.
Consequently, we took our time hitting the road, finally taking off around ten. Anders found us a better route back to the EV6 and we followed more canal paths for several miles. It was another beautiful day with puffy clouds against blue skies. Farm fields rolled by with their crops healthy and full.
Not long after we reached the peak of the Rhône to Rhine Canal, we spied some actual mountains which got Anders pretty excited. He pointed out that they rose up on the edge of the Black Forest of Germany. I thought the Black Forest was somewhere else in Germany so I learned something new.
We began gentle descents along the canal locks with smooth paved paths and the occasional stretch of shady trees. It was all fairly sublime and relaxing. We ended up losing 400ft on the day with only a couple of mild inclines to navigate.
Around lunch we stopped in Dannemarie at a little coffee and ice cream shop along the canal. We sat at a table next to a wide spot in the canal where a lot of boats had moored and I watched as a fellow tourer asked to plug in their e-bike to charge. We saw quite a few other bikers throughout the day, most of whom were older than me and passing us on their nice, fast road bikes. I was glad to see it. As I travel forward into my 50s, I’m encouraged to see people in their 70s and older still staying active and living their lives with continued energy. Studies and my own experience shows that inactivity and sedentary lifestyles might be the worst threat to our health in our modern lives. I don’t want to give up my gentle adventures.
After lunch we rode through a rookery of storks. They filled the trees with their nests along the canal and we saw quite a few in the surrounding fields as well. We get cranes, herons, and egrets in Montana but storks don’t make it to Montana and I enjoyed stopping for a moment to watch them land in the trees and fuss at each other under greying skies.
Along the way Anders and I had a wonderful discussion of history (my interest) and geography (his interest) and how they effected each other over time and why and how things turned out over time. I loved hearing his thoughts and how he saw things and having a thoughtful, intelligent adult to talk to. I was more glad than ever that we’d had this quantity time together and that it was opening us up to bits of quality time like this. As I think about him heading out into the world on his own, I feel both a bit of sadness for my own loss of his company but also so much excitement for the adventures he’s going to have on his own.
We arrived Mulhouse fairly early and checked into the Ibis Budget Mulhouse Centre Gare. It’s a nice, shiny, new building with small, simple rooms that sits along the canal and the EV6 and lies a block from the train station and only a few blocks from the old center. In terms of bike storage, we received a code to an enclosed and roofed bike garage by the train station. It was kind of neat and a good learning experience figuring out how to get the bikes into the two-level racks. While it’s open air, vertical steel bars enclose the whole roofed building so theft shouldn’t be a problem.
Bikes stored and still with plenty of time in the afternoon, we headed to the train station for a snack and to get Anders a book and a map (some kids watch tik-tok, he looks at maps). Back in the room, he got bored after an hour of map gazing so we headed into the center of Mulhouse.
A former industrial center in Alsace, Mulhouse has several great museums and charming old center. It’s well worth spending some time there. As we headed into the center in early afternoon young people out of school and workers leaving their offices and enjoying the end of the week busied the streets with their energy. We wandered a bit, keeping an eye out for a decent restaurant before settling on a “Tex-Mex” place. We sat inside trying to avoid some people smoking on the patio but the smoke followed us in. The owners were super friendly though and we ordered burritos which came topped with velveta style cheese slices and accompanied with fries and guacamole. They tasted fine and gave us enough real food to justify stopping at a bustling crêperie for desert further down the street. We sat inside and each ordered a dazzling sugary sweet pancake with whipped cream and caramel sauce. Delightful.
I didn’t realize before going into town that Mulhouse had so much to offer and I really should have taken the time to film a City Walk. Alas, I was lazy on our second to last day on the route and just had to enjoy it for myself. We walked back to the hotel through the now quieter streets and tried to sleep before our final, short leg.
More places to stay in Mulhouse, France.
May 25: Mulhouse to Basel. ~22miles
The last day of our planned ride started with some nice sunny skies. The Ibis Budget had a pretty good breakfast all in all. Looking back on what I’ve written for each day, I realize it may seem like mentioning breakfast every day is superfluous but I’m the type of person that needs to store some energy or I’m likely to bonk. Energy and calorie management can make or break your day. It’s not just for elite athletes but also for the rest of us who are pushing ourselves a bit beyond our normal outputs. I’ve learned that, despite my love of pastries, if I don’t supplement those with carbs and proteins in the morning, those calories will get burned up very quickly and I’ll run on empty before lunch. That’s no fun. Breakfasts also turned into a significant expense and I want to provide some insight for your own budgeting.
After breakfast I had to upload a video. Anders offered to go get the bikes out of storage. I hesitated to say yes to that for some reason. Perhaps it’s my own control issues or perhaps its habit from when the kids were younger and needed our help with everything. When I took a half second to think about it I realized he could easily do it himself and if he couldn’t it was a good, low risk opportunity to problem solve. Of course, he managed it more easily than I would have. I see parenthood as a multi decade process of letting go. And that’s they way it should be. It’s not always easy though.
We headed out of Mulhouse along the canal lined with trees and houses for a mile or two and before suddenly turning back into rural France. The urban-rural divide seems more sudden there, without endless subdivisions, strip malls, and industrial zones. The path stayed mostly flat with some gentle downhills mixed in and the morning passed quietly.
Maybe an hour out of town we came upon a WWII memorial to Moroccan and other African colonial forces that defended against a Nazi counterattack in 1944. They suffered 1500 losses. The memorial has little pretense or grandiosity with only a couple of cannons, a plaque, and a Sherman tank across the river. It sits rarely visited out of the way of most tourists, yet it serves its purpose as a permanent reminder of that terrible time that the apathy that naturally develops over the distance of time.
The path continued on without much challenge, turning south towards the end of our ride. We stopped for a mid morning snack because we had a short day and a beautiful morning. Looking at the map we realized the junction of the Rhône-to-Rhine canal with the Grand Alsace Canal was not far ahead. This canal runs along the Rhine river which marks the border with Germany in this part of France. We crossed a bridge and continued on soaking in the different building styles (Alsatian/Germanic) as we followed our new canal, that ran along between us and the famous river.
At one point we passed a self-pick strawberry farm with families out picking strawberries. I just starting to second guess not stopping when Anders spoke up and asked if we could go pick some. So, we did. We didn’t actually pick any as we had no way to carry a big load but they had some freshly picked little baskets so we got one of those. It made me happy that Anders had spoken up and I kicked myself a bit for not just stopping and taking the opportunity to try something different. I soon forgave myself distracted by the fresh fruit and local atmosphere.
We made our way into the northern outskirts of Basel a bit after lunch time. We passed through quiet canal side parks and tree lined residential neighborhoods. All was quiet and peaceful and then suddenly there it was, the Rhine River. We completed our ride across France in the middle of La Passerelle des Trois Pays (Three Countries Bridge). It sits a 100 meters or so upriver from the nexus of the borders between France, Germany, and Switzerland. The Rhine River here flows wide and powerful and we stopped to take some photos and I made Anders accept a congratulatory hug. We’d reached the end of France! Well, the French portion of the EV6, and I was proud as hell of us. In the end, it really hadn’t been that hard. We hadn’t crossed any mountains, or deserts, or jungles but for our first bike tour, indeed our first multi night bike trip at all, I felt like it was kind of a big deal. We’d pedaled over 800 miles with side trips and commuting around towns. Over 22 days, we’d withstood winds and rains and detours and, on occasion, each other (well he put up with me). We’d learned a TON about France and biking ,and a fair bit about what we should have done differently (more on that in a bit). While we lacked fireworks and fanfare, I felt a lot of emotions on that bridge, most of which was gratitude.
Basel
We still had a ways to go on the day, and on our trip. Our tickets home left Paris on June 5th and we had plenty of traveling planned, though most of it was by train and on foot. Since we hadn’t had lunch yet, we continued across the bridge and found a café in the little Rhinepark there. We saw a busy retail area on the other side of the street but we relaxed in the outside seating area of the café on our side and had ice cream and relaxed a bit before heading closer to the river and having a proper picnic lunch.
We still needed to make our way over to our hotel near the main train station and towards the southern end of Basel. As we made our way back through the city, we ran into the one and only time that we had cell signal issues. Our Airalo Eurolink eSIM cards were supposed to work over almost all of Europe (39 countries) including France, Germany, and Switzerland and had worked without issue for the past three weeks. But for some reason they were suddenly failing to connect. Perhaps it was the handoff between the three countries or maybe because of Switzerland’s independent and complex status with the EU but it made me very aware of my dependence on our phones.
Luckily Anders’s map passion and youthful memory made finding our general direction possible. As we got nearer to the hotel, the phones figured things out and reconnected. In the mean time, a beautiful summer Saturday in Basel meant throngs of people. Enough that we had to get off our bikes and walk several times until we made it through the city center. But once clear the riding was once again easy, as it had been through so many of the cities we’d ridden through.
We checked into the Ibis Budget Basel City, stored our bikes in the underground garage, and headed back into the city center to enjoy the rest of the day. The hotel had provided us with a day pass on the local tram network which we figured out fairly easily. Since I wanted to film a City Walk, Anders opted to walk through the Basel Kunstmusum, or Art Museum. Basel has the reputation as Switzerland’s museum center. I was a bit surprised and pleased with his choice but I guess it beats following your dad around while he makes a video about walking.
As I’ve mentioned before, I love exploring cities by just walking around. Filming walks for the Youtube channel doubles the fun. My walk through Basel led me through several interesting and historic areas. Occasionally I escaped the weekend crowds though it seemed like everyone was out enjoying the tree shaded cafés and riverfront pedestrian areas. Despite it’s mix of modern city and historic buildings, it still appeared to have plenty of little green spaces and pocket parks. Perhaps there was some sort of event in town too but I enjoyed the old Rathskeller, Cathedrals, and crossing over to the other side of the river. It’s a fun way to watch people as well.
Anders hadn’t finished with the art museum yet so I found a seat at one of those shady cafés and had a snack and a beer as I watched the Swiss world wander by. Anders found me after the museum and we went to find some dinner. As we left, we followed a tiny little parade of about 12 men playing music, wearing traditional clothing, and marching around town. I never found out why but it’s those kinds of little serendipitous surprises that remind me that travel isn’t about checking boxes.
And that was it. The last day of our EV6 adventure. We slept well that night and the next day headed off to Colmar, Strasbourg, Bayeux, and Mont St Michel, and Paris.
I’ll talk a bit about Paris at the end because I had an incident as we arrived that put a damper on that part of the trip. In the mean time, the next section will cover some lessons learned and what I would do differently next time. I’ll follow that up with how I finally got hurt in Paris and how we got home.
More places to stay in Basel, Switzerland.