Day 62: Villeneuve to Vias

September 18, 2013

Our wild camp. We put up the fly in case of any leak overhead, but no tent.

In the morning light, the sea and the sand a marvellous sight, and to be all alone out there, taking deep gulps of fresh sea air was truly a highlight of this trip. After a night's sleep, and in that morni g light, the way onto the Rhone to Sete Canal became apparent to us.

With clear heads, it was easy to find the way forward. Note the convenient arch er3cted tomadd some dignity to our departure.

We love those flamingoes, but they always stand far away and are poormat posing for photos.

The canal is a little strange, because contrary to what I wrote yesterday, it does not share the spit of land that we slept on, but rather it is its own spit, running through relatively shallow waters on both sides. The tow path was gravel, but smooth enough. It was guarded by a sign showing a bicycle with a red circle around it. Grampies see red when shown this sign, and redefine it to mean "Go for it!"

After about 10 km on the canal path, we had successfully cut out about 20km of road, so saving 10 km. by the time we arrived opposite Frantignan. Frantignan is effectively Sete, if you are in a car, that is. In our case, though we could see Sete, we could not reach it. We judged the no shoulder big road too dangerous, and other roads went nowhere. We stopped to ask some construction workers, who were busy wrecking a small and possibly usuable road. One said try swimming, but his more serious coworker said we would have to return to Frantignan village and go from there. So that was 5 km backwards.

Another try at a classical fisherman photo

With so much attention paid to the flamingoes, we figured this egret deserved some space too.

Finally a French fisherman not content to just sit by the water. This fellow had a spear gun.

This is what a "bear claw" looks like here. The filling is chocolate.

Construction workers are good at screwing us up, but also can be asked "now what?".

We set off, and almost immediately Dodie spotted two touring cyclists heading the waynwe had come from. She hailed them, and that's how we came to meet Pete Jones from Sheffield, and Manfred Poser from Munich. Pete mentioned that he had a strange connection to Canada, as one of his neighbours had started in San Francisco and cycled across Canada. Dodie said "Do you mean Tim Hathaway? He stayed at our place." And yes, it was one and the same! So what are the chances that an English and a Canadian acquaintance of an Englishman who moved to Canada should meet in France?

Pete and Manfred were heading generally our way, and had just recently met each other, as well. We convinced them that a retreat to Frantignan, and so was formed, at least for a while, the four musketeers. Four cyclists are much more formidable in a roundabout, normally a very risky place. Also Dodie and Manfred are good route finders, so our joint routing power was at least doubled.

This armada sailed easily then into Frantignan, a typical town featuring a small central square lined with shops and a restaurant. The plan had beento find the tourist information, to see how to reach Sete, but Pete declared himself too starved to proceed. So we left him in front of a fruit store and went to search for the tourist information. We found it, but it seemed closed. France closes from 12 to 3, to rest up after the strenuous morning. Dodie tried the door, and aha, they had not locked it yet. The error one of the girls inside had made was to go to the washroom before and not after turning the lock. So we were in. But the girls said "There is no way to go from here to Sete by bicycle (so get out and let me go to my 3 hour lunch)." Of course, that did not fly with Dodie, whomcwn not be hustled when on a mission. So soon enough she had extracted the necessary information.

We returned to the square and had a nice picnic. We needed a baguette, but of course there is the mid-day closure custom. No matter, the town naturally has 5 bakeries within a block, and one was still open.

With our new information and excellent route finders, we soon not only made it to Sete, but swooped through it and onto the Sete to Agde bike path. I will have to look at my photos from the bike, passing through Sete, to tell you what I saw there!

As we cycled on toward Agde, we all pausd afew times to admire the wide sandy beach, and the lovely "Mediterranean" blue of the sea. The wind continued, either as a strong cross wind or as head wind, so our speeds were not great. Pete and Manfred were very patient, but as the Grampie speed dropped, first Manfred and then Pete pressed on at their own paces. We were glad to have met them, and of course will try to stay in touch.

Team members fighting through a roundabout

A look at the beach, between Sete and Agde

The bikeway to Agde petered out, but with the help of the GPS we got ourselves onto the route layed out in our Canal du Midi book. This passed through the centre of Agde, and while we did not strictly pass through the oldest of the old town, we saw nothing really spectacular.

When we reach the Canal du Midi we were glad, because in principle we could follow this necessarily flat route all the way to Toulouse. Only thing, the path was dirt, narrow, and bumpy. We bounced along for a short time, until a voice with a familiar Canadian accent called out "It's better up top there". This came from a group of Canadians, sitting on a boat anchored by the canal, rather elegantly drinking wine. Naturally some UQs followed, after which they concluded that we were "crazy". As we parted, they joyously called out "Better keep taking those pills!"

As it happens, the path was not better up there, and continued tough. We stopped some approaching local cyclists and they confirmed it was more or less rotten all the way. This adds to the charm, they said. Hmmmpph. We are looking for a way off of here!

Around then Dodie forward progress slowed to a crawl. Too much fighting wind and gravel, and her batteries were dead. Whe I likened this to when the camera goes dead, she summon3d th3 strength to snap at me. It was too weak to do much damage, though.

So the GPS got asked to take us to the nearest camping, and Dodie came along, slowly, slowly. When the first camping was closed and the second not really a camping but a vacation rental, Dodie's strength was really gone. Because we were at Vias, which is still on the Mediterranean, I still had three more campings in my pocket. It was luck that the next one was open, reasonable at 20 euros, and had a place for us plus a restaurant.

We changed our routine so that I whipped up the tent and Dodie's mattress and sleeping bag, so there would quickly be a place to stash her. However, in this time she recovered enough to come to the restaurant. Once there, and having downed one or two litres of water, she came back to life. She spoke animatedly about something, but I was glad just to look at the light returned to her eyes. Next time, I should carry spare batteries for her (or keep her out of the wind).

Aside from water, the restaurant had some meal choices for 12.90. I chose pizza as an appetizer, steak with fries and salad, and ice cream. Dodie chose salad, lasagna, and creme caramel. The portions were huge and the quality good. My pizza alone would have been plenty, same for Dodie's salad. We left really stuffed.

Aside from the elegant restaurant, this camping has a pool and lots of other amenities. A first is washrooms around an inner courtyard, with sculptures and a fountain. This night, any wild camp would have done for us, but now, I am looking forward to going to try out the washrooms! It's easy to please a cyclist.

The path by the Canal du Midi. We will figure a way off of it.

Fountain in the middle of the sanitary block at Vias

"Appetizers" at the Vias camping elegant restaurant.

Today's ride: 68 km (42 miles)
Total: 4,204 km (2,611 miles)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	1
Comment on this entry	Comment	0