On the road to Montelimar, Paul has to deal with a sun cream allergy, a wobbly bike and rap music!?
Today I had a plan - to lather myself in the 500 euros sun cream the pharmacy lady sold me yesterday, and to be on the road by 8:30am.
Having been waylaid by a heaving breakfast buffet, and a shower that flooded several bedrooms as well as my own due to poor curtain placement by its designers, and I was on my way.
It’s very rare to set off with a tail wind, full sunshine, and other road users who actually give you the space you need - but that’s what I got, and it made the monstrous climb out of Vienne seem quite reasonable.
Less reasonable was the corresponding 11% twisty 2k descent, using no brakes and riding the waves of badly balanced luggage like a stag-do rodeo machine.
Believe me, 40 mph with a wobbly bike, and the realisation that you’re allergic to the sun cream now washing into your eyes with the sweat from the ascent, certainly wakes you up.
I decided that a Burger King lunch in Valence would be my little indulgence, and I didn’t care how awful I must have looked devouring it like my death row meal. To be fair, if the parents of the children diners could’ve understood the misogynistic filth that was being rapped over their tannoy system in some form of English R&B, I’d have been barely noticed.
The afternoon got hotter, so a few drink stops and some arse grease application broke the toil of getting to Montelimar. 11 years ago Dave had to literally coax me back onto the road with a garage gateau - such was the plight I was in. Today it went according to plan, and I even had time to self-video myself swearing on the exit of Les Tourrettes - well it made me laugh.
I’d deliberately avoided the same hotel Dave and I stayed at all those years ago - I picked a more funky brand with edgy decor, only to find it was actually the same one…with the same oil stain on the car park that I left when fettling the gears on my last visit.
A short walk into town for a couple of beers and some pasta ended up with me in long conversation with some German teachers who were on an exchange trip. Basically, in a very un-German-like way, they expressed the view that they didn’t care where their students were, just as long as they didn’t have to see them 'til the coach ride home at the weekend. Cheers to that!
Bizarrely, the wind changes direction by a complete 180 degrees tomorrow, so even the relatively short 67 miles to Nimes will be challenging - that’s if I decide I can be arsed to do it. Yeah, check out the new me - I might hang around a nougat museum, I might get a job as a German teacher, I might ride my bike…what’s it to you?
The bike is holding up very well under the circumstances. It’s a light and pretty thing designed for thrusting younger types to commute on at great speeds - not to carry the equivalent of a grand piano and a Dacia Duster on the rear pannier rack. Tomorrow I might show it some love in the form of air in tyres and oil on the chain. Although to be fair, the way it’s made my arse feel today, I might just lob it in the river.
Ah well, now the nightly quest to find something on the hotel TV that I can understand - or it’s another Wheeler Dealers episode dubbed in German for me. Hang on…I’ve had an idea!
Enjoying the 'local' cuisine.
Another selfie on the road.
A new home for the bike - maybe!?
