Pushing the Season - To Toulouse

November 21 - 26

We left the Les Cloutets farm with mixed emotions. It was a rich, fulfilling stay, but we anticipated some great riding to Toulouse and were getting excited to see friends and family back in Canada, including Chris and Erin's new baby. The day started grey and grew brighter as we descended from the farm to Raines-les-Bain, turning into a classically beautiful autumn day in southern France. The roads were lovely, a little narrow and busy in spots, but we had grown to trust the French drivers and had a great day. The views over the course of the day were lovely with the distance Pyrenees glistening to our left and the rolling farmland to our right. As the sun starting dropping, the temperature did too, reminding us that winter is just around the corner. We lucked out finding a motel right along our route, complete with an outdoor patio table and chairs for our last night of cooking out on the trip (or so we hoped!).

The second day brought a dour forecast of rain and cold. We sped off, after a leisurely pain aux chocolat or two!, rejoining the Canal du Midi. In this section, the canal is well developed. The plane trees lined both banks of the canal and we passed many canal house boats and a few lovely towns. We are in good shape, and particularly on these flats, we can go all day without tiring. The rain held off until just outside Toulouse - not bad for what could have been a miserable day. The rain was cold and we were happy that the trail brought us right to a series of small hotels. We quickly did some hotel shopping and didn't waste any time tucking in to our warm room.

We enjoyed cycling and walking around Toulouse. The short film festival was on and we could even understand most of what was going on. Toulouse is a university town with its share of culture and character, a great place to depart from! We boxed up our bikes two days before our flight. The community bike shop was only two doors away, so if we had been shy on tools it would have been no problem.

We had a bit of a time lugging our bikes in boxes plus all the panniers and backpacks across the street to the train/bus station. We handily caught the bus to the airport - wonderful service! After tripping on my hiking shoes while carrying all our boxes and crashing to the ground (that's Sue), turning our 7 bags of panniers and bags into two (the old Russian doll trick came in handy when they wanted to charge per item!) and otherwise impressing people with our incredibly awkward luggage, we boarded the plane to London, England.

Pyrenees Permaculture Farming

November 9-20, southern France:

Jesse and Andy at the farm

View from the farm

Ian feeding mulberry leaves to the sheep - a delicacy according to them!

Another view at the farm

Jack with the sheep

Shots from our day trip cycling from the farm

Jessie and Andy picked us up in Limoux and whisked us off in their older VW bus high onto the hilltops. In exchange for room and board, we were volunteering on their farm for 10 days, as part of an international movement called Worldwide Working on Organic Farms, or WWoofing. Their farm has a flock of some 100 sheep, a half dozen chickens, a large garden, an orchard of various apples and other fruit, plus a forest filled with chestnut, oak and wild mushrooms. Andy and Jessie use permaculture practices which extend beyond organic to consider systems and an integration with natural cycles. They also look after other gardens and teach permaculture workshops. Both are quite talented in other ways, too, with Jessie being an accomplished artist and children's author (and cook, to our delight!) and Andy an avid guitarist who inspired his kids to play and form their own band.

As the nights were cold, we settled into a small suite shared with a young Dutch Wwoofer, Maikka. Most days the sunshine created lots of warmth, but there were some cooler days when the fog or rain rolled in. Our views were dramatic out across the valley to high ridges with tilted limestone rock, higher evergreens and lower golden chestnut forests, a hilltop town perched among the clouds, and the Pyrenees peaks in the distance, constantly shifting their mantle of snow with the weather. In the foreground, the farm was a rich tapestry of renovated yellow brick buildings surrounded by a few outbuildings and gently sloping green fields. Their smart border collie followed us around, looking for excitement (when he wasn't herding the chickens or keeping an eye on the sheep), while a huge and surprisingly white Pyrenees Mountain Dog hung out with and guarded his "pack" of sheep.

Mornings would unfold slowly, with late breakfasts, lunches and dinners enjoyed around a large table next to the warming wood cooking stove. Delicious meals included farm garden produce, lots of garlic, often wild chestnuts and mushrooms, occasional lamb, farm apple cider, and red wine and honey from neighbours. Dinners would often linger over fun discussions and some guitar jam sessions. When the schedule or rain slowed things down, we both enjoyed diving into the pages of the numerous manuals and books on offer. The chance to speak, and read, English helped us relax and share more with our hosts.

Each day brought its own projects: planting peas, onions and garlic in the garden; mulching around fruit trees; clearing and building fences; trimming branches, brambles and mulberry for sheep fodder; feeding chickens, sheep and dogs; bundling and carting off lambs for sale; collecting eggs; building a grey-water treatment pond; and splitting and stacking loads of firewood to prepare for winter. Over our ten days, we learned lots about permaculture, the payments and paperwork challenges of farming in France, and the joys and tastes of rural life and self-sufficiency.

One Sunday Jessie brought us along to the morning market in nearby Cuiza. It was filled with local food products as well as a mix of clothes, music and crafts. On our second last day, we put our biked back in action and made a 60 km circuit through the surrounding hills, following very quiet roads past ancient towns, ruined Cathar castles perched on crags high above the valley (to protect them from Catholic Crusades), among majestic forests, by fields and farms, along an impressive gorge with impossible roads carved through it, and through dramatic (and descending!) valleys.

We felt a real comraderie with Jessie and Andy. Thus we were sad to wrap up our time with them and leave their idyllic locale. We cleaned up our pad, bid our adieus, and then pointed our bikes steeply downhill - 2 km to the valley road, past the Roman thermal baths at Rennes-les-Bains (a continuing draw for nearby hippies), and then 15 km on to Cuiza through the stunning Aude River valley.

France - High on Return

France, October 28 - November 9:

Heading south from the French Alps at Briancon, the highest town in Europe (1321 m)

The valley views south of Tallard

Medieval town of Sisteron at a narrowing of the valley walls

Cold ride in the rain entering Provence, just south of Forcolquier

Roussillon, Provence - famous for the local ochre coloured soils

Provence colours

Gordes - lost in the mist

View from Gordes - another cycling destination in the clouds!

Pont du Gard near Avignon with friends and gracious hosts Gaston and Martine

Heading to Arles from Avignon - awesome riding!

Up to Beax-en-Provence

The Mediterrean at the Camargue wetlands

No trail...

Yes a trail - you win some, you lose some!

Sete, France

Canal du Midi with plane trees lining the banks

Great train from Agde to Carcasonne

Castle in Carcassonne

Ride south from Carcasonne to farm in the mid-Pyrenees - one of our best rides of the voyage!

We had the ride of our lives. In 4 days we biked from the Haut Alpes around Briancon down to Avignon in Provence. When we arrived in Briancon, the French trains were all on strike. Like many other industries in the country, they were protesting the raising of the retirement age from 60 to 62. The weather was brilliant and warm, unusually so for this time of year.

Again, the scenery and weather beckoned us on to our bikes and we headed down through the alps to Mont Dauphin. The ride was spectacular with new snow-capped mountain views around each bend -- and it was mostly downhill! Had the road been quieter with less trucks, it would have been even better, but the paved shoulder was in good condition and gave us ample space to ride comfortably with the traffic. We found a welcoming, warm hotel (we knew the warmth would fade quickly at dusk) with a restaurant in Mount Dauphin, at the foot of the medieval promontory town that was catching the late afternoon sun.

From Mont Dauphin, where we noticed frost on the cars in the morning, we headed further south and west, with stunning landscapes fueling our riding, past the sinuous Lake Serre-Poncon, down to the town of Tallard. Here we hunted a long time for accommodation, finally finding a little hotel along the outskirts of town by the highway. Our lucky weather streak continued until the next afternoon when a misty rain started off and on. In the meantime, the mountains softened to hills and the valley broadened. The riding was glorious as we followed a quiet road down the valley all day, with vistas across to hill towns and ridges. We passed hundreds and hundreds of apple trees and lots of other fruit trees, too, and a busy roadside market. Around noon, we came upon the stunning village of Sisteron perched precariously on a ridge over a river, with rock walls pinching in from both sides. We wandered narrow lanes, caught the market for lunch, and were proud to see 2010 Tour de France banners hung in town (although I think they were heading up the vallcy, not down like us)! Near the end of the day, as it started to rain in earnest, we found a room at a deer farm near the town of Forcalquier (farms commonly have a few hotel-type rooms in France, which is one way to help diversify and enhane their incomes) . We welcomed the dinner served at their restaurant, having riden 90 km that day, one of our longer rides.

Facing a weather forecast of solid rain, wind and a high of 14, we decided to make a quick 45 km dash along gorgeous, quiet roads to the town of Apt, where we knew there was at least one hotel we could stay in. The scenery was great, the descents welcome, but the rain did not let up all day. It poured, then poured some more. Arriving in Apt, we were quite cold and thoroughly soaked, one of the few times in our entire trip. We found exactly what we needed, a sweet, warm hotel that even had a bath. We spent the afternoon warming up and drying out. The town was lovely, but with the weather, we only made a quick nip out for dinner with a borrowed umbrella.

On November 1, we arrived in Cheval Blanc, near Avignon, to stay for a few days with another cycling couple we had met twice in Normandy in June. The ride to Cheval Blanc was terrific. We travelled along more scenic, quiet roads via the attractive towns of Roussillon, Gordes and Menerbes. In the Roussillon area, the soil is light yellow blending to bright red and orange, and ochre mining was a big part of the economy before fossil fuels replaced them in the rubber manufacturing process. The cliffs and town bricks and artwork all reflected these colours. The views of classic Provencal fields of lavender and grapes were delightful on our climb up to the perched hilltop town of Gordes, although the fog obscured the vistas from the top. Stonework without mortar, found in fences, field huts and houses, is a specialty here. A quick climb up to Menerbes and through a string of towns leading around the prominent Little Luberon ridge took us on to Cheval Blanc.

Our friends, Martine and Gaston, made us feel welcome in their lovely, historic home that is attached to the original mill in the area. They took us to some of the local sites, including Fontaine-de-Vaucluse where a river gushes out of a hill and its deeper source remains a mystery. We also explored historic Avignon and then the Pont du Gard, a high three-tiered ancient Roman aqueduct over the Gard River. It was great to hang our hat in one place for a few days and our French improved each day we were there. Both Martine and Gaston tell a lot of stories and have a lot to share, so we had to work hard to keep up in French!

With great cycling tips in hand, we bid adieu to Gaston and Martine and headed for Arles, famous for its great Roman amphitheatre and theatre. The first 15 km of the ride was a little busy, but after that, we hit some gorgeous quiet roads, once again revelling in sunshine and beautiful scenery. We wound our way through the pine-covered angular white Alpilles hills, so called because they are like a miniature version of the Alps. We saw many cyclists on this warm fall day but, not surprisingly, we seemed to lose most of them when we headed up the steep hill to Beaux, a medieval town with splendid views all the way to the Mediterranean Sea. We saw more evidence of ancient Roman aqueducts as we continued on to Arles. Once in town, the roads seemed to be a bit of a tangled mess and we ended up in an entourage of fellow tourists searching for the youth hostel, which we eventually found.

From Arles, the cycling became quite flat, which we hadn't experienced in some time! We headed to the Mediterranean at Stes-Marie de la Mer, on the edge of the great Camargue wetlands at the mouth of the Rhone River. At a local museum, we learned much about the production of rice and wine here, and the culture around specialized horses used to round up cattle. Nearby, there is a large bird sanctuary with flamingos (we saw 500+ up close), black ibis, black stork, coot, purple gallinule, egrets, and recuperating birds including several owls. We camped for the first time in a while and had a little party with a few other long-term travellers around a barbecue. We were still the only tent campers though... we are defininely pushing the season!

Indeed, on our next night at Le Grand Travers, we had to sneak into an RV-only park and camp somewhat surepticiously, packing up early and heading off along the windy coast to Agde and the start of the Canal du Midi. On the way, we passed through the town of Sete where Ian and and his high school friend Tim had travelled some 30 years ago. With memories of Ian and Tim struggling with their tent due to the strong gusts off the sea, we pedalled along the coast into the merciless wind. Again, we are reminded that flat riding is not always easy riding. We got a "blast" watching windsurfers and kite boarders screaming along the surface of the protected waters just east of Sete. With a change in the weather on the horizon again, we biked along the Canal du Midi trail (which varied considerably in its surface for the first 10 km, and sometimes extended through salt ponds with more flamingos) to Beziers. The rain is cold in November and we needed to move along to start our WWOOFing farm adventure, so we hopped the train and soon arrived in Carcassone. We still got soaked in the pouring rain just getting to the hostel, but it was a shortish ride, so we soon thawed and dried out.

We toured the old part of Carcasonne with its massive walls, towers and medieval streets in the morning and then had a fabulous ride south through the vineyards to the town of Limoux. Our farm family, Andy and Jessie Darlingon, picked us up there and we made the trek to their organic farm in the foothills of the Pyrenees.

Ups and Downs in Italy

Italy, October 8 - 28:

View from cathedral tower in Florence

Medieval street in Assisi, Umbria. Note the campsite is a little higher up than this with the same view.

Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi

Feast for the eyes in Castigliani del Lago, Tuscany

Montepulciano, Tuscany

Ian picking olives at farm we camped at just outside of Pienza

On route from Sienna to Florence

Day of dreams - ride from Sienna to Florence

Mediterranean coast at Levanto, just north of Cinque Terre

Welcome to Slow Food in Turin

Sidewalk archades of Turin

Ancient Roman ruins and aquaduct in Susa

Susa Valley

Italian Alps near French border

On October 8th, we followed a terrific, paved trail past Koper, Slovenia to the Italian border where, in cycling terms, we were dumped. Hello, Italy! Your cousins next door have a so-called peace trail to your border and, at that point, it then turns into an overgrown mud pit! Well, we found our way out from the path and followed some helpful local cyclists along busy streets, including through a poorly lit tunnel, into the chaos of motorcycles, little 3-wheel trucks and cars, traversing the portlands of the city without a map, in search of the train station.

Before we found our destination, we were assisted by a woman in a car who indicated that we needed to turn around from the freeway access lane we were on, a cycling couple, a cheerful older man who clapped Ian on the back as he gave directions at a corner, a nun whose blown cap we chased after, and giggling teenagers trying out their English. We chatted in broken Italian with a woman while Sue fixed a flat (from that dim tunnel), and we then escaped the industrial portlands and emerged into the magnificent architecture of the downtown waterfront. There, we encountered an enormous yachting festival, with yachting folks from all over Europe. We were a little out of place amidst the matching sailing gear and well-polished boats, and a tourism guy quickly spotted us. He came over and informed us that all the rooms in the city and for miles around were full due to this festival. Being too late to take the train much distance and arrive at a decent time to find accommodations elsewhere, he suggested we bike 20 km further north to a campground. Sue was not enthused as the light was disappearing already. We headed in the direction of the camping, pedalling fast. Some 5 km down the road, Ian spotted a hostel sign. Thinking that these yachting types were not likely to choose this type of accommodation, we checked it out. They had one of the best hostels in Europe just waiting for us! With a balcony, our own room, windows overlooking the Med (only 10 m away!), and a royal castle and national park within view, we had it made in the growing shade. Although the ride through Trieste was loud and busy and long, we had already met many friendly locals, and despite the poor riding conditions, we were enjoying the lively, warm, effervescent Italian people already.

But northeastern Italy wasn't our place to linger, despite some tantalizing possibilities. To get to our next cycling tour, we planned to travel west and south to Assisi in Umbria by taking 4 different trains and arriving at a reasonable late afternoon hour. However, we had a later overnight stop in Florence after Sue's bike was abandoned at the train platform in Venice, fully loaded with all our camping gear and bike tools, and food! The train simply took off with the bike there and us inside loading Ian's bike. Their trains are super long. Ian had to march quickly through the entire train to find a staff person, who arranged for us to get off at the next stop and for the bike to arrive on the next train. It was a bit of a delay and hassle, but we were pleased to have the bike back and all the gear on it! We later learned that this is not unusual and that bike tour leaders tell people to lean their bike against the train so they don't take off before the bikes are loaded. Of course, it would be much faster to load the bikes if their trains had wider doors, low floor technology (no stairs, like the German trains), some indication of which end of the train would have bike facilities, and available conductors to advise passengers ...

We found a large hostel with great (but busy) facilities, and shared travel notes with a cycling South African couple. Florence was so busy with tourists, even at this point in the season, that you couldn't get tickets without reserving ahead to some of the major attractions. Instead, we wandered the ancient streets and took in the spectacular architecture and major churches of Florence, a city well worth its renown but one that seems to be overrun by outsiders.

After a day among the Florence sights, we continued on to Assisi, a medieval town perched on a prominent hill in the province of Umbria. It was great - once you got up there! This was our first taste of the hills of Italy that we would be getting to know better as we cycled through the countryside from Assisi back to Florence. Most of the route is in Tuscany and the towns are on high hill tops, defensively overlooking the valleys. The camping was great at Assisi and the on-site restaurant, which many Italian campsites have, was fantastic. The traditional kitchen and eating area had a large open fire for cooking, and the roast chicken, soup and greens were delicious. Of course, St. Francis hails from Assisi and the large cathedral dedicated to him had interesting wall paintings depicting his life story. His simple cave retreat nearby, the pilgrims following his country meanderings (including a German Buddhist monk whom Ian met), and the numerous chapels and churches across the region and beyond pay tribute to the teachings of this humble man and his close connections with nature.

Our first day riding out from Assisi was disappointing. We started early, recognizing the shorter days, but Sue had two flats within the first 5 km. Then, we took a long time ascending the road into the town of Perugia, which turned out to be teeming with traffic as the town was preparing for an international scale chocolate festival. Behind schedule, we couldn't stay much longer than to scarf down some pizza ... and get into the spirit with chocolate, of course. Our way out of Perugia was a maze of roads with innumerable traffic circles pointing to the expressways for Rome and Florence with hardly a mention of nearby towns. By now, our cycling instincts were well honed, and we managed to find our way out of the maze without taking a wrong turn and only asking once for directions. But, the supposedly quiet road seemed to have become quite a highway since our guidebook was written and we were disappointed with the quality of the riding. The end of the day found us checking out closed campsites on Lake Trasimeno (with lovely islands and bordering wetlands and hills), so we grabbed a hotel room and cooked over our one-burner stove on the balcony. We were the only guests, so we were grateful that the warm hotel was open.

From here, the riding improved as we cycled around the lake to the medieval town of Castiglioni Del Lago. The town has a lovely setting on a hill overlooking the lake, and an ambiance with artisanal food shops just waiting to meet our food pack. From there, we enjoyed sunshine and quiet riding to the long, busy hill up to the town of Montepulciano. We marvelled at the medieval streets on foot, tasted their renowned wine, then descended a ridge and valley to an organic farm with agriturismo. Podere Il Casale, on the outskirts of the hill town of Pienza, offers camping and a large heated room where wonderful dinners are served up every night for their volunteers and paying guests. The nights are cold and dark for cooking now, so a warm, lit room filled with hot food each night is a real treat! With a welcoming setup and interesting companions, we decided to stay a few days. One day, we toured some of the higher Tuscan towns by bike without our baggage, including an ancient thermal bath town (Bqgno Vignoni) , Mount Amiata's heights, views, and twisty climbs and descents, and the edge of famed Montalcino. It turned out to be an incredibly scenic but tough 80 km ride. We recovered the next couple of days, picking olives, chasing sheep and celebrating a Swiss girl's birthday in fine style. The goat and sheep cheeses, plus wine and olive oil, are well known from this farm and we can confirm that they and the hosts' dinners are quite delicious!

Our next destination was north towards Siena. The riding and scenery were terrific, and even the hills were not too daunting. However, signs for 20% grades, both up and down, made us wonder! Pienza is known for central square planning by a Pope; one ancient town en route celebrated truffles , another its lofty abbey, while we enjoyed the sunny views across valleys towards high-walled and -towered villages (such as San Gimignano). The Tuscan countryside was aglow in muted yellow, orange and rusty tones, with deep furrowed fields and sentinel cypresses lining lanes leading to siena-coloured stone farmhouses. It started to pour just as we arrived in Siena and by the time we reached the campground, we were soaked. For the first time in a long time, we met touring cyclists; one couple was from Australia and the other from Maine USA. We spent a couple nights sharing stories and plans. The ride north on to Florence was great and the weather was shining in our favour again. We felt so lucky to see the famous Tuscan landscape with such clear skies and we ate up the quiet roads we followed (until about 5 km from the city). The Italian roads can be very busy and it is tight in towns with their medieval narrow lanes, but in the north we find the drivers respectful and patient with cyclists. We have heard that this attitude does not always prevail in southern Italy.

This time, we stayed at the campground overlooking Florence, lit up below us in the evening. We managed to make our way down to the train station between bouts of rain in the morning where we boarded a train to Levanto, a small town on the Mediterranian adjacent to the famous Cinque Terre region. Given our plans, we only had one day in Levanto, but we made the most of it. We found a campsite in town (not surprisingly, we were the only ones camping there) and went for a gorgeous walk along the coast, enjoying the sunset views alon g the coast, then seafood dinner out. We felt another short burst of summer in the warmth of the afternoon sun, but as soon as it dipped below the horizon, we were reminded that fall had arrived.

We arrived by train in Turin, northern Italy, after an early morning rise and scenic ride along the coast to Genoa and then a turn inland and north. We settled into our somewhat dingy hostel, sharing a room with 4 other people, one of the only rooms below 100 euros a night that we could find. We were in town for the biennial Terra Madre event, a 3 day conference where people from all over the world meet to share ideas and experiences that improve community food systems and sustainability. The workshops were stimulating, as were the practical sessions that helped train the senses to better taste, smell and savour our food, complete with elaborate wine tastings! We both went to the huge Slow Food emporium where you could taste and buy locally- and sustainably-produced specialty foods from around the world. Every region in Italy was particularly well represented and we enjoyed hours eating, drinking and chatting with the food providers.

After Terra Madre, we toured around the city of Turin. Sue, in particular, was taken with the city, its arcades, squares and riverside walks (despite some heavy rain). Our local coffee bar had great coffee and croissants to supplement our breakfasts! From here, we had planned to take the train into Provence, France and then do some volunteer farming further west in the southern French region of Aude. We did recall our not-so-great train experiences in France and Italy to this point.

Then we noticed an enticing mountain valley with a flat quiet road leading to the border, as well as a stellar weather forecast. That was all we needed to persuade us to bike west into the Susa Valley from Turin, heading straight towards towering white mountains glistening in the sunshine. We stayed at an awesome B & B in Susa, a delightful town replete with Roman ruins and surrounded by mountains. We went hiking for a day to garner great views up and down the valley. We then continued up (OK, it was fairly flat to Susa at least!) to Aulz where, after some convincing of the driver, we scored a shuttle bus over the high Alps pass some 20 km west into Briancon, France. The vistas were perfectly clear and the mountains were stunning with new fallen snow on the ground at the higher elevations. What a trip we are on!