Two Weeks in Provence - the Trike Tour So, How Far Did We Ride? For the Provence portion of the tour, we cycled 295 miles. In our other travel stories, I've been diligent about logging miles each day - and I did so during this trip, in pencil, in a little blue spiral bound notebook. That stinking little notebook. All my notes... in the backpack... on the plane home... got the pencil... where's the notebook?... 2 weeks later, found under the couch. Thus a haiku: Spiral bound Log of our trip Here, then gone. Damn Ambien
Sunday, August 26: Avignon - Orange, 29 miles
Breakfast, then a meeting with the rep from France Bike (we're a bit concerned about the directions provided, and have purchased our own maps to supplement the France Bike directions), and we're off. Despite having spent a couple of days walking around the city, it still takes a little while to pick our way out of town, but eventually we're across the Rhone and on our way. The terrain is mostly flat for the first few
miles and passes through vineyards
There's a nice downhill run out of Orange, which helps settle lunch, then we continue on through the countryside, which is rapidly approaching south Texas summer temperatures. Luckily, our hotel, L'Herbier d'Orange is air conditioned. Given the heat, we elect to do our sightseeing in our bike clothes.
![]() ![]() ![]() Monday, August 27: Orange to Vaison la Romaine, 29 miles
During our walk around town, we meet a 60-something group of German (or
maybe Dutch) men who had cycled Mont Ventoux, a 6000 foot climb.
Considering that today's temperature was 39 degrees C (102 deg F) - well,
they're better men than I. Dinner tonight features a Provencal regular - some type of multi-colored tureen (this is an option on virtually every 3 course prix fix menu) - but we're really enjoying the rose' wines of the Cote de Rhone. Tuesday, August 28: Vaison la Romaine to Isle sur Sorgue, 40 miles No photos for this day... must be image overload. When you're on a
bike, the slower speed gives you plenty of time to just sit
We stop at a wine co-op to buy a $5 bottle of Rose. They have a self serve station, where you bring your own bottles to fill your wine. The wine is priced by the liter. One of them is free (we didn't taste it, but how bad could it be? ). I love France! Regardless, we make good time today, arriving at our hotel for the next two nights (a Best Western - with two swimming pools) well before our luggage. Since the hotel is about a mile from the center of town, we hop back on the bike and check out the old town. The central city is surrounded by a canal featuring several waterwheels that were once used to power mills and other machinery. Today, the canal is Isle sur Sorgue's version of the River Walk. Jayne picks up another phone charger and we have lunch at a cafe overlooking the canal. Back at the hotel, still no luggage, despite calls to France Bike. Oh well, it's hot, we're sweaty, there are two swimming pools, and bike clothes work as swim wear. A dip in the pool, a couple of chapters in a cheap novel, and just about the time my shorts get dry, our luggage arrives. Tonight's dinner (included in our tour package) in the hotel restaurant is our choice from the standard 20 - euro 3-course (entree, main, dessert), that we supplement with a local rose'. Wednesday, August 29: A Day Trip to Gordes, 27 miles We'll climb a bit today on our visit to the town of Gordes - about 12
miles from Isle sur Sorgue. The first few The ride out of Gordes is loads of fun. With the upgraded brakes and lighter load, we can afford to let the trike pick up a bit more speed (we hit 42.5 mph on this run), so we cover a lot of ground quickly. Passing through a small village, we spot a small restaurant with it's front door open. There are only 6 or 7 tables, but it's cozy, and the waitress speaks fluent English. The plat du jour is excellent, and we linger over our roses for a while before continuing the return. Dinner at the hotel is essentially a reprise of last night. Lucky we're only here two nights - one more and we'd be out of options for dinner Thursday, August 30: Isle sur Sorge to Avignon, 28 miles The ride back to Avignon is relatively easy, despite continuous
misdirection courtesy of France Bike's cue sheet, and soon we're back in the
familiar
We'll use this stopover to prep for the next week of touring (laundry and more maps), and tour the Pope's palace. During the palace tour, we discover the need for another chore - our trusty Canon digital camera bites the dust, so a visit to the local FNAC (sort of a combo between Border's Books and Best Buy - without the large appliances) is in order. The Kodak is functional, but I miss the Canon. Friday and Saturday, August 31-September 1: Avignon Friday's dinner is on our own, so we decide to try something that is... not French. We had seen some Moroccan restaurants in the neighborhood, so decide to give one a try. The meal is OK, but the next morning, I wake up with GI distress, but I figure things will be better by the next day. For our Saturday day trip Jayne has arranged for a Wine Safari. Mike Rijken, a former chef and winery marketing director, picks us up at our hotel. We'll start with lunch near the vineyards, then Mike will take us on a tour that will encompass the vineyards and wineries of the central Cote du Rhone. With Mike's insider access, we get up close and personal at the Tavel cooperative, watching the delivery and crush of freshly harvested grapes, and get a sample of the first run of juice. Following the cooperative visit, Mike takes us to two small wineries where we get to meet the winemakers and taste a variety of wines. There's been a change in the weather. It's cooled off, with daytime temperatures now peaking around 80, and the wind has picked up. Well, "picked up" is a misnomer. In Texas, we'd call 50 mph winds blowing for days on end a Tropical Storm. In Provence, it's the Mistral. Mistral – the Winds that Drove Van Gogh to Madness The mistral are winds that blow from the north at 80-100 km (sustained) for 100 – 150 days a year in Provence. Winds so strong they rattle windows, slam doors, make buildings groan and drive the French away from their beloved outdoor squares and bistros. Winds that blow not only in the winter, as we believed, but all year around. Winds that blew us out of Provence. Why do the vineyards of the Cotes du Rhone look like a briar patch? The mistral forces vineyards to thrive without trellising. The wind would blow them over and after all, French vines must suffer to produce their superior wines! Why are there no church steeples for us to use as a compass from village to village? The mistral forces churches to be built without steeples. Wrought iron steeples are a local architectural detail, designed to withstand the wind, but not visible from 4-6 km as is the average steeple. Why are there no window boxes overflowing with flowers in Provence? The mistral forces window boxes with flowing flowers to be abandoned to the wind. How did we cycle into the mistral? Very slowly. Not quite as slow as a steep climb – but as unpleasant as cycling in the driving rain. Constant. Unrelenting. Miserable. After 30 miles cycling into a 50 mph headwind back to our base in Avignon, we decide to abandon Provence and the mistral for the remainder of our trip and head north to Burgandy with its trellised vines, tall church steeples, and window boxes overflowing with flowers… and no wind. Sunday, September 2: Avignon to Arles, 31 miles Sunday dawns with
One funny thing about this part of
France - you can be tooling along through the countryside, enjoying
the vineyards and orchards, then suddenly you run into a 2000 year
old Roman ruin, like this aqueduct.
The rest of the day is a bit blurry - I have no appetite, and am having chills and fever each evening. At dinner, one minute I'm chatting with Jayne after placing an order, the next, I'm coming to after fainting at the table. Jayne says there was discussion about calling an ambulance, but after a few minutes I'm able to wobble back to the hotel with a bit of assistance from Jayne. She puts me to bed and returns to the restaurant to finish dinner. The staff is concerned about me, and even sends some food for me (though I'm beyond eating). Monday and Tuesday, September 3-4: Arles to Saintes-Maries, 31 miles
There are two doctors in Saintes-Maries.
The hotel manager suggests I see Dr. Dinh Vo. Despite his
name, he looks like a typical Frenchman to me. Though his
English is limited, it's better than my French, and we're able to
communicate. After a discussion of symptoms and an exam, he
writes a prescription for some antibiotics and two other drugs.
After paying his 22 euro fee, we drop into one of the local
Our second day in Saintes-Maries is dedicated to rest and letting the medications do their job, though we do walk around a bit. The crowds have diminished significantly with the onset of the mistral, the petanque players have put away their balls, and even the topless sunbathers have given up. Wednesday, September 5: Saintes-Maries to Saint Gilles, 26 miles Though not 100%, I feel good enough to ride today, so we set off into the face of the mistral. With headwinds gusting up to 50 mph, we make slow progress, and accumulate a thick film of dirt and sand. My appetite has returned somewhat, so we stop in a village for a nice lunch, which helps a lot. Saint Gilles doesn't have much to offer. A church, a square, dinner at the hotel. We're off again into the mistral. Thursday, September 6: Saint Gilles to Pont de Garde, 28 miles
Friday, September 7: Pont de Garde to Avignon, 21 miles
Since we'll end our cycling tour at this point, our first task is to prepare for the remainder of the trip. Jayne takes care of laundry while I disassemble and pack the bike, doing my best to keep weight down. Due to ongoing issues with luggage delivery, Jayne has negotiated a deal with France Bike - they will coordinate a hotel for us in Montpellier, our departure city, and transfer the bike and other luggage at a substantial discount. Eventually, we're set, and will continue the remainder of our trip with only a small roller bag and a backpack. The only question remaining is, where to go?
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