To Entraygues-sur-Truyère

October 23, 2022

One of the first "European traditions" I remember from visits here twenty or more years ago was that breakfast was always included in the price of the room. Now, it seems more and more common that breakfast is an add-on cost, which can vary from €6-20, or more. It is convenient to have breakfast at my lodging, so I usually pay and am satisfied if the selection includes muesli, cheese, some meats and perhaps an egg to go along with the usual yogurt and breads. Somewhat tangentially related are my recent discussions with fellow touring cyclists as to whether it is ethical to pilfer items from the breakfast buffet and sock them away for a picnic lunch. I often do –somewhat surreptitiously, but have sometimes asked when I'm staying at a smaller inn. Invariably they say it’s fine, and a few times they have even gone back to the kitchen and prepared me a sandwich, free of charge.

This morning’s buffet line at a Logis Hotel du France, one of the larger French hotel chains, was closely guarded by a friendly but efficient hotel worker who checked everyone in with their room number. I wrapped a hard-boiled egg and a sandwich in my used napkin, but felt hesitant to brazenly walk past the attendant with the evidence in hand. So, I just asked her if it was okay to take breakfast buffet items for my lunch. Not only did she allow it, she went back to the kitchen and wrapped my items in plastic, even adding small packets of salt. And she was delighted to do so. I'm not sure that her views are widely held, but it went a long way toward easing my burden of Catholic guilt.

My securely wrapped picnic lunch, complete with two blue packets of salt

I set off from Saint-Geniez-d'Olt without giving the town it’s proper due, nor learning about the secret of the marmot. The sky was overcast and there was a bit of chill in the air, it really felt like fall. The route took me quickly up and away from the Lot River, on small tree-lined roads resplendent in their fall foliage – I was reminded of my days spent in the hill towns of Western Massachusetts. As I climbed higher, the trees opened to views of distant meadows, hillside pastures, and small hamlets. It was a tranquil morning, one that lent itself to contemplation on my life choices and good fortune.

The severely cut back trees stood like alien soldiers in a field - I found the one in the foreground to be a bit reminiscent of Jar Jar Binks

Back down near the river, I came upon a pasture of donkeys, all grouped at the far end of the field. Of course I stopped, and was reaching for my camera when Juliette detoured from her walk to discuss cycle touring and route mapping. We had a most agreeable chat, and by the time she ambled off several of the donkeys had crossed the pasture to check us out. One girl was quite curious, but after establishing that I had no goodies to share, she resorted to munching grass. As she turned away, a young donkey emerged from behind, one hidden so well that unless you counted legs you would have no idea there were two donkeys rather than one. I was instantly smitten by this shy young thing, especially when she poked her nose through the fence, imploring me for an apple. Alas I had none, or so I thought.

I detoured from the route to explore the twin “E-towns” of Espalion and Estaing, two charming towns on the Lot River. I was on the hunt for a coffee in Espalion, and finding an open bakery I couldn’t resist adding an almond croissant, which I enjoyed while sharing a park bench in the town center with an elderly gentleman. After a short stroll along the riverfront and the Old Bridge, I continued downriver for an even quicker look at Estaing, passing by one of the hotels I’d tried to book for tonight. In fact, I had not found an available room for tonight in either of the two E-towns, so I pushed on to Entraygues-sur-Truyère (another E-town on the Lot!).

Do you see one donkey or two? Hint: count the legs.

Oh No!! A Mr. Bill stone house trapped in a rock wall

Pont-Vieux, the Old Bridge in Espalion, is a three-span bridge that is slightly curved

The curve of Pont-Vieux is more evident from this angle

Along the Lot between Espalion and Estaing

Estaing is dominated by Château Estaing, a 15th century residence that is now owned by the former French president Valéry Giscard d'Estaing and members of his family

The last ten miles went quickly, following the river through a narrow region of the valley know as Gorges du Lot. I arrived in Entraygues about an hour before check-in time, and tried calling to see if I might be able to arrive early but there was no answer. It was a steep climb up to chambre d’hôte and not wanting to make the climb up unnecessarily, I opted to wait at a nearby restaurant where I mistakenly ordered their house version of tiramisu. Oops! I still hadn’t eaten my sandwich from this morning, but rather than do the sensible thing, I devoured the tiramisu. It was tasty.

Cycling through the Gorges du Lot is nice, but a bit tame after the Tarn Gorge

I took the round-about, less steep way up the hill to my chambre d’hôte, arriving about ten minutes before the 4 pm check-in time. I was warmly greeted by my host Sandra, who showed me the overnight rooms for Vivien George and myself – she in the storage bay while I had the Magellan room in the large house. I had arranged to have dinner at the chambre d’hôte, and when I went downstairs at the appointed time I was delighted to learn that I would be sharing the meal with Sandra and her husband, Xavier. Sandra explained that because the French normally eat their big Sunday meal at noon, our evening meal would be simple – which was fine for me as I was still a bit full from my late afternoon indulgence.

It was a most pleasant evening, full of delicious food, interesting conversation, and the joy of forming real connections with folks you've just met. There was a lot of talk of bikes, and cycling, and of cyclists who had passed through on the way from St Malo to Nice - Entraygues-sur-Truyère is a stage stop on the route described in France en Velo. The conversation was mostly in French and I was following along pretty well when Sandra started talking about some Americans from Oregon who sold their home and now spent all their time touring around Europe. Then Xavier mentioned that they rode small bikes with tiny tires. Grasping to fully understand, I exclaimed that I might know them. Sandra got out her guest book and said “The Andersons” – yep, unbeknownst to me, Scott and Rachael also stayed here on their way up the Lot a couple of weeks ago. Amazing!

Heart

Comment

Link

Today's ride: 36 miles (58 km)
Total: 3,430 miles (5,520 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	11
Comment on this entry	Comment	2

Scott AndersonOK, I guess one of us needs to look this up. Here’s the scoop:

It is said that in Saint Geniez d'Olt, at the end of the 15th century, lived a sinner whose children had captured a marmot. On a stormy afternoon, the little animal flees frightened. The two children went in search of him, as a violent storm broke out, drowning the valley under a real flood. On their return, several houses, including theirs, had been taken away. Their lives had been spared thanks to the escape of the marmot. They were called the "Marmots. This name was subsequently given to all the inhabitants of Saint Gêniez d'Olt. A statue telling the history of the Marmots is located on the old bridge in the heart of the city.
Reply to this comment
1 year ago

Rachael AndersonI’m so glad you got to stay at the same place we did! It was such a beautiful setting.
Reply to this comment
1 year ago