A Journeys End

Rest Easy Dad….

After leaving my hosts Andy and Claire in Poole I headed to the ferry port which was only 4 kms away. I got there just in time ….i had awoken early to load up and of course….ran out of time. Anyways, got on board and the ferry left on time. I had dosed up with seasickness tablets so I was delighted not to throw up, as I’m prone to doing! It’s an odd ferry to St Malo, as you disembark in Guernsey and re-embark on a different ferry to St Malo…same company, different ferry. So I duly disembarked, got my boarding pass for the next ferry and waited where I was directed to wait, then shown back ….to the ferry I had just left! I explained my predicament to the stewardess who realised their mistake…..otherwise I’d have been heading to Jersey! As it was I eventually got on the right ferry which only took 2 hours to get to St Malo.

St Malo is an ancient walled town with wonderful french architecture and shops in a car free centre-ville. My hosts were right inside the walled part of town in a stunning block of flats on the main boulevard. We had a great evening meal and chat – a young couple running their own agricultural machinery business.

On Saturday I headed to Ploermel, a route of 113k along canal paths, tracks and disused railway lines. It was a stunning ride, but most critical of all…the new rack and panniers held tight and there was zero shimmy….i was able to get back to smashing it downhill!

One thing you learn/remember cycling in France is that there is simply no one around! Village after village was deserted! Shops only open for short times and there are few cafes, tho I did find two that I ordered ‘cafe grande’ in (ask for coffee and you get a tiny teaspoon cup!). But you need to think ahead as often there can be 30k with no food or water! There was a trick I learnt from my last trip here….if you’re out of water, find a graveyard and there’s always a tap….and so I put that to the test and sure enough….a tap! I struggled a few times with the distance today, being the longest I’ve ridden in months, but whilst it was undulating it was doable and best of all was a tail wind. I arrived at my camp hosts around 5 and had a delightful evening chatting to them…both teachers….and their three children. I was so stuffed when I got there tho, and my back/hips were really complaining! The challenge is that after a ride I need to get a warm shower, a hot drink and food, and put the tent up….by which time I’ve failed to stretch! Plus there is often nowhere to stretch, so it’s pretty challenging to manage the pain.

The next few days took on the familiar feel of a long distance tour – pack the bags, throw the leg over the bike, and ride! Each night I had a chance to stay with a Warm Shower host which was excellent- tho it takes some effort to engage after a long ride; the hosts want to chat and all I wanted to do was rest! On my second night I arrived to a house full of kids and adults enjoying their holiday time and my room was just off the lounge with no door! It was going to be a long night, but thankfully the visitors left around 7. I stayed with another couple who appeared not to eat or drink, as nothing appeared to welcome me or feed me, and the place was in a forest miles from any shops (which were probably shut anyway!) I had asked if I needed to bring food and was told ‘no need’….i guess if you don’t eat yourself having food isn’t top of your list! Eventually around 9:30 a small vegetarian dish arrived! I went to bed hungry! At another place I arrived at the agreed time but the host was working from home, so briefly said hello and went back to his work and left me in the garage for an hour and a half! I used the time to clean Bob and stretch! And another host had 13 bikes in their shed and proceeded to take the time to explain each one despite me desperately wanting a shower! But it’s all part of the ‘exchange’ in Warm Showers. I had been on the road nearly two weeks before I needed to book a room, which as you can image saves so much money over the course of a trip – my daily expenses were around 20 euro a day which isn’t too bad in Europe!

The cycling here is truly wonderful- just endless trails and tracks, small country roads and picturesque villages to amble through. The French ‘do’ cycling so well, with dedicated bike lanes and signage everywhere. Getting through Brittany is always a challenge as you’re on the pedals all day – you’re either going up or down….there are no flat roads here! And overall the weather was great- overcast or sunny , freezing in the morning but warm by midday.

As I progressed south I learnt that dad had taken a drastic turn for the worse. He had become very unwell and was removed to his room, where his condition deteriorated rapidly and very unexpectedly. Whilst his dementia has been very evident his vital signs were stubbornly good, so there was nothing to suggest that he would crash so quickly. But crash he did, in spectacular fashion. He stopped eating, he couldn’t take his medication and basically disintegrated in the space of 5 days. It was distressing. On the 26th dad passed away. It was a bitter-sweet moment- relief, yes, but shock too, that it happened so quickly after the slow burn of his progressive illness. I headed back to St Malo over the coming days, doing big distances to get to a ferry to get back. They were lonely and deeply sad days on the bike. The legs turned over the Ks but my head and heart were elsewhere. It probably was lovely scenery but I couldn’t tell you as I saw nothing. I made it to a ferry sailing to Portsmouth which positioned me with a final 95k back up to dad’s home town.

On my last day of riding I went north in the pouring rain and head wind. It seemed quite fitting. The route took me through muddy trails and tracks, having to push my bike up steep bridleways. Then I got a puncture, then another, and was thoroughly miserable for an hour….but i had a chat to myself, got Bob sorted and made the final 50k push.

I’m going to be here a few weeks preparing for the funeral, then I’ll head north, then across to Ireland. Whatever happens next will have to wait. I need time to decompress, find myself a place called ‘home’ and then consider what life holds next. Whatever it might be, I’m sure it’ll involve Bob!! I have loved being back on the road. I’ve stayed with some amazing families and have absorbed the French countryside, and their acceptance of cyclists!

I’ll write again when Bob and I head north. Till then, be safe, live life to the full. Laugh. And tell people who matter, that they truly matter to you!