France 2007 Day 4

I didn't stop long in Clermont ferand but I took this picture of a giant wind-vane assembled on a roundabout.

This was the first roundabout on my way in to St Pourcain. I guess the Tour de France will pass this way. Anyway ... despite this part being a little tatty, it turned out to be a very pleasant town as the subsequent photo shows.



The map showed a viewpoint at Vaux so I decided to stop and have a break. I couldn't find the village .. all there was was road! Devoid of traffic, so I sat and snacked while I was there.

I may have spoiled the view by standing in the way of it.

Waitrose / Sainsbury.. eat your heart out. This is a store resaurant .. The Leclerk in Moulin. And the food was good, too.

Moulin town centre...

One ... from the back ... you'll notice the white spires (I didn't... DOH!)

The other, from the front... You'll notice the spires aren't white. I didn't at the time.

Twin twin-peaks (I couldn't resist the play on words). This is Moulin, obviously has two churches from this distance.

The river, and bridge ... it's a red bridge at Moulin... a sort of "Moulin Rouge Pont" ... Come on, keep up.

Do I have to tell you where I am?

Can you tell what it is yet?

So, how out of context is this? It's in Guerigny ... Just North of Nevers.

I just thought it looked good - it's at a place called Chateuneuf-Val de Bargis - so I just took the photo.

Of course, I didn't see the full name on the sign so I thought it might be the Chateuneuf du Pap. I rode about thirty miles to find it wasn't. DOH!

More out of context ... An Irish Kebab house in France. WHAT? This was at a place called Varzy if you want to try it. Reputedly the best Irish Kebab house in the region.

Actually Varzy proved to be a pretty little village away from the main road.

The next few photo's are of Clemecy... No context needed at this point.

France 2007 Day 3

I set off. My aim to reach Clermont Ferand. The weather was a little better but I needed to get away from the Campanile hotel... While the staff were helpful and friendly the place was dingy and I needed to find somewhere to lift my spirits. Clermont Ferand is well known and I hoped to find something there.

The weather got steadily worse with temperatures dropping. My chosen route was to be through a tunnel where I hoped to shelter and gain some temporary respite. It was not to be. The tunnel was closed for roadworks and I had to go over the mountain pass. I watched the temperature gauge slowly descend to 3 degrees. I was wearing sodden summer gloves and my feet were soaked through. I took one photograph all day. This at Le Loiran. 4,000 feet above sea level and still at 3 degrees C. And I needed a pee (duly taken into a deserted ski resort gravel bed).



A little while later I saw a cafe with bikes outside. I stopped for a coffee - possibly the best decision of the week. There I befriended a scottish couple, Phil and Shona. What a great couple they were. I asked if I could follow them to Clermont, which the were happy for me to do. As we descended off the mountain the sun came out and the roads dried. I didn't. I was still soaked through.. but at least I was warmer. Phil found some good roads and we enjoyed a brisk ride.

We booked in to an Etap hotel (who have, I have since discovered, charged me for two nights. Refund pending), freshened up and went for a stroll and had a pleasant meal at a local restaurant. Phil. If you read this, get in touch. I still owe you some money for the meal.

The next photo's are from day 4 when, at last, you'll notice that the sun has come out. They're here to show the possible consequences of riding while exhausted. I was fortunate that there was nothing coming the other way as I slid down the road...




PS. If anyone has a spare RH crankcase cover for a 1998 Honda VFR800Fi

France 2007 Day 2

Bellac - to get to this part of the town needed careful navigation through the small, narrow back-streets. Or, in my case, a random sequence of turns.


Streets such as this one..


And why don't we have places with names like this?


Mind ... I think they'd be better off washing their dishes instead of fly-tipping. I think this may be Limoges ...


in the middle of nowhere ... a community hall / hut where I stopped to grab a bite to eat. You'll notice that the weather is somewhat inclement and had been, on and off, for the last two hours. It was about to get worse.


I prepared for temperatures down to 15 degrees centigrade and mostly showers. During the next three hours the temperature went down to around 9 degrees and the rain was, as they say, persistent. You'll also notice the trees bending from the wind. Neither my gloves nor my boots were more than shower proof - my Frank Thomas Aqua pack even leaked, leaving me with damp leathers. Slowly, cver-so-slowly I became cold, miserable and exhausted. With predictable results.

So, I made it to Aurillac about 5.30pm: tired and, frankly, pissed off ...

I found a Campanile hotel booked myself in and sat in a hot bath to rejuvenate myself. An hour later, feeling little better but, at least, warm, (although the rain was still lashing down) I walked to the restaurant and grabbed a bite to eat. There I found the staff helpful and, heaven sent, able to converse in English. A real fillip.

France 2007 Day 1

The church at La Somme





Can anyone tell me what this is? This particular one was just outside Sees but they seemed to be all over* France in various shapes and sizes. Very odd.

Adele sent me this explaination...

"Your mystery shed is a Duck baiting pit, or 'Theatre de Canard'. Very rare these days actually, your route must have been quite unusual to take in many at all. The ducks are rounded up from the open side and set too in the pond, afficianados leaning on the rail and enjoying a calvados traditionally (more likely a beer these days) whilst placing their bets."

*I saw, perhaps, half a dozen so drew the conclusion that they were more common than perhaps they are.

The river at Le Mans



Montreuil-Bellay .. A beautiful town.





And so on to Poitier for a night's sleep

Grafham Water

I spotted this as I rode up the Kimbolton Road out of Bedford and Grafham Water. It appears to be Kimbolton Castle - and magificent it looks.

Here's the rub. It's a school!



A litle further down the road is Grafham Water



Here's the bike in the car park














And here's me ...












I managed to wedge the camera up on the back of the bike (see where it's parked above) and used the time delay. I must remember to remove my neck-tube in future.















It was quite breezy - lots of people messing about in boats. It did look fun

Grafham Water has a number of places where you can stop and park-up. This is another spot.

Really quite picturesque!

Ely Cathedral ... From afar. It looked so good as I approached that I did a u-turn (feet up - show-off!) and returned to a suitable vantage point. Shame the photo doesn't do it justice.

A clean bike is a ...

Well, last week I gave the bike a pretty thorough cleaning in anticipation of my excursion to foreign climes (well, France, Germany and maybe through in a couple of other nearby EU countries for good measure). The bike needs some maintenance first, though. The head bearings were starting to feel a bit "clicky" so may need replacing, a 24,000 mile service is due and i'd like the brakes to be checked. The chain's making an odd noise when I wheel it (backwards) into the garage after a hard ride, so that may need some attention. Finally, a new rear tyre is needed.

Boring bit. Pirelli Corsas on the Viffer have been great. The Bridgestones used to cause weave once as they approached the end of their life. Not the Pirelli's. More of the same, please Mr Pirelli (well, Paul at Hevingham Tyres, to be more accurate).

A day out - 1/4/2007

On Friday I checked the weather forecast ... It promised a dry day. I checked that we had no alternative arrangements. We had none so I did a quick search on the internet for a suitable event or destination.

Mallory Park was flagged ... as was WSB at Donnington. No contest, really. 50,000 people watching superstars, or a few hundred watching keen amateurs trying their hardest just for the fun of it. Mallory Park it was then.

A scan of the map suggested that direct route out of Norfolk and onto Sleaford would leave me with some interesting roads from Sleaford, through Bourne, Melton Mowbray, Loughborough and then a short hop to Hinckley.

The aim was to be out of the house by 9am ... That was shortly to be revised to be a 10am start.

I'm not really that familar with the Lincolnshire roads and when I got to the Junction that pointed to Grantham it started to dawn on me that i'd been enjoying the ride (lots of overtakes!!!) so much that i'd missed the Sleaford turning. Turning left towards Grantham seemed the obvious thing to do ... and lookout for a signpost for Bourne. A couple of miles down the road and there it was ... an easy bear-left and perfectly pleasant B road stretched out ahead of me. I followed this for a while when it came to an abrupt end ... I had been warned about a mile earlier .. "Road Closed" it said ... The car ahead turned right, following the diversion signs, so I followed. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I began to realise I was thirsty and a little peckish so stopped at the village stores (you'll note that the tiem on my camera is a little off - Norwich to Rippingale is not possible in four minutes. Well , not on a VFR800 ...)




Having decided that the route should be reasonably random ... when I say decided, it was very much a sub-conscious decision. I forgot to pack a map. So, several detours later, I found myself in a village in Leicestershire .. or maybe Northamptonshire ... asking for directions to Melton Mowbray.

Now, it's an interesting point about asking for directions. one lesson I should have learnt by now is never, ever, ask two elderly males for directions. Much discussion ensued in a dialect that I, with my earplugs in and crash helmet on, struggled to follow. The occaisonal phrase penetrated ... generally along the lines of "ah, but down tha' road there be dragons ... best avoid tha' way" or somesuch. Several hours later, so it seemed, I was given the instruction to continue along the road I was travelling and I would arrive at Stamford, a right turn there would see me on my way to Oakham (with a multitude of other lesser-known villages in between) from where I could find my way to Melton Mowbray ... Well, sure enough I found Stamford (which the aforementioned gentlemen described a route to avoid - which I did), and headed off to Oakham ... and magnificent views across Rutland Water. At Okham, I realised that at the rate I was heading eastwards I would reach Mallory Park at about midnight, so I followed a sign to the A47 and sought a more direct route.

I arrived at Mallory Park at 1.35, admired the very well maintained VFR750 that I parked next to, paid my £12 entry and watched the end of a race from near the hairpin. Lunch was announced.



I grabbed a bite to eat and wandered around the track and found a grassy knoll on which to sit, well away from the crowds (basically, anywhere but the pits was well away from crowds!). lay down and, with only the buzzing from the motocross track to disturb the peace, did absolutely nothing for the next twenty minutes. Bliss.

The next race started, then stopped (red flag), restarted and finished. Repeat for the next couple of races. A nearby spectator - ten yards away - told me it had been like that all day. Every race being red flagged.




At the Esses



Leaving the Esses




On all sorts of machinery ...




And some were slower (that's not a criticism ... All credit due for getting out on track and taking part)

Then came the sidecar race.



I've never stopped to watch one before. They're excellent entertainment. The passengers are as mad as your hat ... and, to my trained eye, many appeared to be women. This race went without incident.

I took my time, circling the track - seeing the abomination that it the chicane at Gerrards (the club racers don't use it - they don't need slowing down!) and moving on to watch the off-roaders practice session. I must go see more of that. Very entertaining - especially the joker who decided that he'd smother me in dirt as I tried to take his picture.

Gerrards ... and a hint of the chicane







And, finally. I wonder why they call this fantasy island ...