Well, our trip has finally started – we left Dover on Bank Holiday Monday and arrived an hour and a half later in Calais to commence  our first leg down through France.

Leaving Dover

We planned to stop at around Troyes (halfway down-ish on the right) but hadn’t booked any campsite – partly because that is our new laissez-faire, go with the flow attitude, and partly because it’s the end of the holidays and all the campsites will be empty……. or not, as the case may be.  We arrived in Mesnil St Pere to find it heaving with people all enjoying the late summer heatwave of 28 degrees and lounging on the lakeside beach and staying in the lakeside campsite. Luckily they had 3 spaces left so we chose one of those and enjoyed our first night with a BBQ and a bottle of champagne.

Today we decided to go for a bike ride,  having seen on the map a cycle path all the way to Troyes.

Wondering why I’ve agreed to a 80km return trip….

When we asked at reception how to get to the path she told us that it involved riding on the main N16 road which was very dangerous and the only other way was to go a round about route which meant it was 40km each way.  So we set off for a local ride instead, yet somehow kept going and still ended up riding all the way to Troyes! We were glad we did as it’s a beautiful town with loads of ancient timbered houses leaning in all directions.

Troyes centre ville

After lunch and some wandering around we set off back on our 40km return trip, only for Paul to have a puncture shortly afterwards. He mended this, but because it was on the inner side of the tube it stated to leak after a few minutes. Anyway, long story short, after several puncture repair patches and some duct tape the puncture was fixed but the valve on the tube came loose and wouldn’t hold the air. And we didn’t have the right spanner to get the wheel off the bike to replace it.

The 20 remaining km of our return trip looked like it was going to be a very long walk, so we left the cycleway and started to walk along the (very dangerous) main road. Which is where the lovely Olivier came in, as he stopped his car to offer us a lift, and then refused to drop us at the next village to catch the bus but insisted on driving us all the way back to the campsite.  He asked why we hadn’t just thumbed a lift and said that he always stops if he sees someone. I think he also liked the chance to practice his English as he had lived in in the UK in Ledbury for a few months when his wife worked there.

If he hadn’t rescued us I think we’d still be walking back now, so thank you Olivier!