France by bike and by van

We've been keeping busy, in between sessions of lying low through wet autumn weather (November being statistically the rainiest month here). When the weather's fair, we get out on the bike and are gradually extending our range as the cycling fitness levels improve.

Our latest run took us up to about 45 miles round trip to the mouth of the Gironde, at Royan.

Autumn leaves in Les Arces 

Royan was badly flattened in the later stages of the Second World War and extensively rebuilt through the 1950s, including the main church, Notre Dame de Royan, which was constructed to a radically new design, begun in 1955 and finished in 1958. The building looks a bit odd from the outside, but the space within is quite remarkably arresting and can accommodate around 2000 people.

The concrete Notre Dame de Royan

Plain without, stunning within 

Digging the beach at Royan

Crazy mud berths at Les Monards

A surprise jaunt to Belgium cropped up when we were given a commission to pick up a big (BIG) van-load of stuff near Brussels and bring it back to Mortagne. We had to make the journey up in one 10-hour go, which was fairly tough, with the crossing of Paris falling smack in rush hour, but once the van was loaded up we were free to do a bit of touring on the way back down and stopped several nights.

Belgian interlude: the park at Tervuren

Gent: Who says Belgium is boring?

Arras town hall, almost entirely rebuilt after WWI

The inner basin at Honfleur, Normandy

Honfleur street

Armistice Day in Normandy

War grave at Pont l'Eveque

The Chateau at Bazouges, Loir Valley

Look back in Angers, at the 12th century cathedral

13th century stained glass windows, Angers Cathedral

Pleasant as the trip was, we were pretty tired by the time we got back and still agree that touring by boat is the best!

Feline sleepover, back on board

Rambling about the Charente-Maritime

The white chaton, currently under our cat-sitting care

The rain did let up eventually and we've had some beautiful autumn weather to go exploring and to get the vessel snugged down for winter. All the sails are washed, dried and put away, ditto all the lines. Inside the heater is seeing daily use now, but luckily the colder weather has knocked down the mosquitoes. The other good thing about the cool weather is that we have refrigeration again (i.e. the forward cabin, which we now keep closed off from the cosy saloon) and can buy and store cheese and keep the beer at a more palatable temperature. Condensation is the one fly in the ointment, but leaving the hatch wide open overnight keeps it to a minimum.

Poitou donkeys, the local breed

Cycling along the riverside plains, we find a mini ecosystem in its small drainage channels: kingfishers, crayfish and even muskrats! The muskrats are not native so we were very surprised to see several of them merrily swimming along. The birdwatching is very good among the marshes and reed beds of the estuary, hundreds of herons, waders and warblers.

Wish this cafe were still in business, at the original prices

We've upped the ante on our cycling tours, doubling our distance from 30 km to 60 km on a tour to the pretty mediaeval town of Pons, which happens to be on the Chemin St Jacques (French for the Camino de Santiago de Compostela) so we are still on the pilgrim route.

The Donjon in Pons (it rhymes in French)

The pilgrims' hospice, Pons

The small country roads are ideal cycling terrain, but the sign-posting is a bit haphazard and we've had a few involuntary detours. The countryside is very pleasant, mainly arable, dominated by vineyards and dotted with cute villages and hamlets centred around picturesque churches.

Detail of the church in St Germain du Seudre

The French (the rural ones, at least) seem to be preserving more of an unhurried pace of life and who can blame them? Shops still have rather limited opening hours, for example, and tradesmen seem to take a lot longer than in northern Europe. The flour mill had to wait seven months for seven of its windows to be double-glazed and reinstalled. But then if they can maintain this lifestyle in the face of global competition, maybe they're on to something.

Right now the wind is howling through the harbour with gusts of up to 45 knots, but we are nice and snug in our sheltered berth. Tomorrow, winds of 35 knots, gusting 50, are forecast. Looks like another restful day in store.