The perfect ten

June 5, 2025

Our shortest day

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Last night I'd gone out for pizza, and then collapsed back at base with a few additional supermarket calories. After a good night's sleep, I got up and prepared for the last of the longer rides I'd kicked things off with. 86 miles, to be precise... which was odd in that it felt like a rest day, seeing a route plan that wasn't up in the nineties. Also, it would be easier in the sense that this was due to be the flattest day to date. All we needed now was good roads and good food.

On which note: I think I may now be getting the hang of these continental breakfasts. Where the English ones are all about protein, I think in France you just need to max out on your simple carbohydrates. In other words, as many sugary things as possible. And if any of you are dentists, I apologise.

Lots of toasted bread with a thick covering of sweet fig jam, and then fruit compote, dried fruit and nuts, and a yoghurt. I shared the breakfast table with the one other resident who'd opted for the food option also: and when he left, I snaffled his untouched nut mixture too. And then I adjourned upstairs, to shower and scrub at my teeth.

Scene of the crime: my breakfast location. It was a lovely house and the owner had already gone to work, leaving us to sort ourselves out.

There's not too much to say about chunks of the day, and I've not captured lots of countryside pictures as a result. Throughout, the roads were pretty amazing. When they're this smooth, I swear it takes about 10% off the journey time. Also, they were largely deserted. Even the busier ones had limited traffic, right until the point of reaching major settlements. And lastly: flat. The hills were so shallow that I'd passed the halfway stage before my satnav warned me that climb one of four was up ahead. A 0.2 mile 3% gradient, for the record. And all of the four 'climbs' were completed by about 60 miles. I'm not a natural cyclist's build, and it's pretty rare for me to reach anything holding the title of "summit" at a speed of 15mph. But Raven and I managed it today.

Another great thing was that the french villages appeared to have resumed their cheery levels of business as usual. Perhaps day one just took me through a sparser area than I'd realised; today, there were shops and signs of life in just about every town I passed through. Not that there were dozens of these settlements, but every one seemed to have that sense of communal self-sufficiency. Part of me had wondered whether COVID and the cost of living crisis had maybe closed down a swathe of smaller french shops, but if so, today showed no evidence of it.

Flat, flat, flat. It was like the french had visited Somerset and built themselves a larger replica.

Having consumed my week's calorie intake by way of jam, I wasn't feeling particularly hungry, but I'd learned my lesson about getting food and supplies whenever possible. So it was about 1115 when I pulled in at the village of l'Hébergement, braking violently as a bakery came into view.

It looked promising. I grabbed a sandwich for lunch, later, to stash in my bag. I asked them nicely to refill my drinking bottles, which they did. And then I saw it. The perfect looking flan. I nearly ordered two.

I'm actually thinking I might get this picture blown up and framed to go in the lounge at home. If you want to do the same, I've no objections. Copyright waived.

There was a market in full swing just off the main street, and I sat down in the middle of it and took out the flan, in the manner of Charlie Bucket unwrapping a bar of chocolate. And until Cycle Blaze sorts scratch and sniff, or Silicon Valley works out how to provide taste samples via mobile, I can't really tell you much more. Except that this was it, the perfect ten. Whatever else happens I can now go home happy; and though I was momentarily torn, I don't think moving to l'Hébergement for the flan alone is entirely wise. Worthy of brief consideration, but no.

The market. It didn't look as though it would merit too much browsing, and with my luggage limitations, every new purchase after a sandwich requires me to throw something else in the bin.

Lunch was around one, unpacking my sandwich in a deserted village square on the route, and then I set out for an afternoon coffee at Luçon, since there was time to kill before check-in at the hotel. It rained, for a while, and I had to get the goretex out despite the prevailing mugginess. We were also starting to encounter more wind, blowing up up from the south-southwest as we dropped down south-southeast. Neither of these things really slowed our progress, what with the wonderful road surfaces and the forgiving geography, and Raven was barrelling forward at a good 15-20 mph pretty much everywhere outside of the built up areas.

The town hall at Luçon. Classic french architecture, and so beautifully maintained. I sat opposite it for coffee. Raven leaned against a hedge of fragrant jasmine. She deserved a break from sweaty cyclist for a while.

The church - or maybe cathedral? - at Luçon. It was also adjacent to our café.

From here, there were about another 25 miles to go, and the route planner suggested we'd polish those off in about an hour amd a half. I was sceptical, but it was right. The last section was through a lowland marshy area, all straight, and with no roundabouts or lights to slow us down. The headwind was more pronounced here, on the open ground, and although a fair few trucks thundered past us, we had our own section of adjacent carriageway and were pulled along in their wake.

Not the most interesting bit of cycling, but it felt like a good training run. I was very glad not to get any mechanical issues here though. Some sections of the map can leave you conscious of just how remote you are.

And at just about four o'clock on the dot, we arrived at our hotel. It's perfect. I wandered on foot into town, to get some dinner and check out a couple of things for tomorrow. It'll be an early start. But just for a minute, I'm revelling in the moment. It's been a beautiful day of riding, through so many picturesque places, and I really can't think of anything that would have made it better. Three days in, and 275 miles down.

It's been a great tour, and I'm so looking forward to the next bit.

Our hotel, Just a three star, but really rather lovely. Raven's got private parking under cover in the secure yard, and I've got a view that looks out directly onto a bakery. All in all, a perfect way to end the day's cycling.

Scores on the doors: and also, let's rejoice at achieving three for three on the flan front. Thank goodness for the calorie burning on tour!

Heading towards the old port... you can see the number of cyclists. I'm sure there's a connection between that and the ubiquitous cycle lanes.

That white boat? If all goes to plan, we'll be aboard it tomorrow. Tune in to find out more.

Down by the waterfront, where I had pizza and beer to celebrate. And an impromptu rain shower forced us all to flee from our terrace seats, indoors. Still, I'm hoping this means there'll be less up there for tomorrow. The current forecast is indifferent.

Today's ride: 86 miles (138 km)
Total: 276 miles (444 km)

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