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Bike Touring Journals by Neil Anderson and Sharon Anderson

Bicycle touring journals

November 11 Friday Bicycle touring France from Puy Leveque France to Gabarret France

"Allez! Allez! Allez!" I shouted (one of the few French words I've learned), as a curled-tusk boar scrambled across the highway directly in front of us amid loud gun blasts. The boar's sharp hoofs clawed frantically as it came up the bank and scrambled onto the asphalt surface in front of our fully loaded touring bicycles. I looked to the side of the road and noticed nine camouflaged hunters with loaded boom sticks. "Bonjour" I sing out and pedal merrily on my way.

Today, being November 11, Armistice Day, is a holiday -- so the French are allowed to hunt. Ange told us that hunting is only allowed on Sundays and holidays (although, as we approach silently on our loaded touring bikes, I've noticed hunters on other days up in the hills).

There are hunting reserves along the roads -- there are acres preserved for hunting. One side of the road will have signs posted that it is a hunting area; the other side of the road has No hunting signs posted. I thought a person and dog would go there, and when the dog flushed out a pheasant, the guy would shoot it. But, no. They go out and hunt in packs of a dozen with their dogs and huge bazookas.

When I started counting as I cycled past, there were nine hunters lined up fifteen feet apart along the ditch of the road, rifles aimed into the reserve. The dogs were in there sniffing and barking. I had no idea there were wild boars around here. And don't mistakenly venture into these areas on a Sunday. No camping permitted. Spiced up that pig's life -- no boring day for him. Just bringing home the bacon, honey.

Last night, as we camped in our little bicycle touring tent in the stadium, music played out of a speaker until 1 AM. The same polka tune over and over. Even with my earplugs stuffed in, I couldn't drown it out.

Then, at 5 AM, a bunch of cars arrived to deliver things to the concession stand. They turned around right in front of our tent with their lights shining bright. Needless to say we got an early start. It was raining before we even got packed up and everything loaded on our touring bikes.

It rained all morning. Around 2 PM, we cycled to the edge of the clouds and the clouds looked more normal, rather than an endless fog bank.

While cycling through Velleneuve sur Lot we happened to arrive during the 11 o'clock Armistice Day Parade. Marching, drummers, flybys, presentations.

We cycled across the Lot river and continued west on D922, D109, and then D656. These D, or Departmental Roads, are excellent for cycle touring. Little traffic and great scenery.

We're near forests again. Some grape and apple orchards. We saw a lemon tree, oh so pretty. The vegetation is more tropical here. It is bushier and more dense; ferns and palms.

We ate three leftover, stale, hard, crusty, jaw-wrenching baguettes that I bought at a patisserie yesterday. figuring that today, being a holiday, everything would be closed. Wrong. Only the bakery where we bought our baguettes was closed -- all the other ones were open this morning. Even the supermarket. Bicycle tours in foreign countries can be so educational.

Finding the toilets, or water closets, has been an adventure. Sometimes they are under stairs or built into walls beneath churches. They are usually near a post office or Marie. Some are right out front. Today we discovered one in an open building space with a 75-foot high ceiling. There was a front on the building, complete with a double door built to take an onslaught of a battering ram and two stone side walls. The back side of the building was completely open. The toilets were on one side. A stage on the other. In another town, where men were playing Pétanque in the town centre and women were visiting in the park, the toilets were attached to an electrical building. Next to the toilets was the water we were looking for. It was another three wall building with a huge trough in it -- public bathing? -- it sure looked like it. There was space along the sides of the trough to sit. Around the edges were railings to hang towels.

We decided to check out a camping ground tonight, if possible. Since it's a Friday night, the stadium may be a party area ... and the woods certainly didn't appear safe today.

We cycled to a campground in Gabarret. It even has hot showers! -- the best we've had so far. Cold tonight -- clear. Last night was too warm. Allez! Allez! Allez!

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