Loire Valley cycle ride proves a test of stamina

THE pace of life on the Loire Valley is slow. In Roman times, the canals and rivers were a major transport lane – a busy, bustling broadway. Today the Loire Valley is a pleasure playground for bike riders.

It’s not quite the Tour de France, but it is an exhilarating challenge through the Loire Valley green hills and along lonely country roads. There is nothing ordinary about this cycling journey, it is an unforgettable trip, something to tick off your “Things to do before you die” list.

I explored the Loire Valley, with my wife and friends Peter and Regina, as part of a UTracks bike and barge tour that started when we were collected by bus in Paris on the first Saturday of June.

On our six-day journey from Cour-les-Barres to Rogny-les-sept-Ecluses we cycled more than 300km.

Some of it was gut-wrenchingly tough. Thankfully, most of it was flat. The sun shone. It rained; it was cold; and it was hot.

But for the most part it was a chance to make memories, and of course eat and drink, in a most sublime location. I can still smell the fresh baguettes of the small-town bakeries. Those baguettes go well with the locally produced sausage from the morning market.

At night we would wine, dine and sleep on the barge Anna Maria IV, and share our pain and tales with 20 people from seven countries. When you are cycling along the canals, you can’t help but just break out in a broad smile. The French countryside does that to you. This is exactly how I imagined rural France to be. The artist used every shade of green in his colour palette to create this part of the world.

Here you are surrounded by history. There are medieval castles on the hills, century-old vineyards either side of you, it’s warm but not too hot and every now and then there is a cafe selling pastries, coffee and French wine at prices that encourage you to have a second or third glass.

The cycle trip was harder than I thought, but perhaps I hadn’t done the appropriate training beforehand. The barge is small, which forces the group together. There’s no internet. No television. You share breakfasts and dinner as a group and spend evenings in conversation on the deck while waiting for the sun to go down at 10pm.

The perfect end to the day.

Here’s a day-by-day guide to what you can expect once you reach the barge.

Day one

Bike pants, or not? That is the question.

I have one pair of padded pants and six days to ride. Our barge is berthed in the tiny French village of Cour-les-Barres. It’s 8am and really the first chance to size up the opposition (fellow cyclists).

There’s 16 of us ready to take up today’s challenge – a 55km ride from Cour-les-Barres to Forchambault, Nevers, Apremont and back. Half the group is clad in tightly fitting lycra leaving nothing to the imagination. In the end I opt for the baggy shorts and T-shirt, saving the padded pants for when my backside really requires extra cushioning.

The age range is somewhere between 44 (that’s my wife) and 70 (a Canadian couple from Vancouver Island).

We had been told that the Loire Valley is flat. Not true.

The Loire Valley mountains are not quite Dolly Parton-esque, but to say it was more Keira Knightley-flat is definitely not correct either. Our guide Jan-Anna says we will encounter three kinds of hills over the next week – the smiling variety, friendly and mean.

Jan-Anna is a quirky character. Some would say an acquired taste. There’s one thing you can’t doubt though he has a heart of gold, and is willing to help anyone. The ride to Foechambault is an easy 10km with only one smiling hill. Every Sunday is market day here. It’s a big day out for the locals and the smell of roasting chicken, pork and rabbit wafts through the air. The market is heaving, friends exchanging air-cheek kisses before sitting at the bar at 10.30am for their first drink of the day. My kind of town. This is exactly how I imagined the French countryside to be. I am already searching for a real estate agent.

The next part of the ride is up our first mean hill, and it causes a few problems for Jan-Anna.
Half the group makes it up the hill. The other half makes it up, but 30 minutes later. The 70-year-old woman from Canada is not looking good. It is a warmish June day and her cheeks are bright red, she is on the verge of heat stroke.

By the time we reach Nevers, the city of the history of arts, the group has split. I’m in the lead group, but breathing deeply. By the end of the day, I’m buggered. There’s no other word for it. My bum hurts, my legs ache but I’m feeling like Lance Armstrong after win number seven. Triumphant. AT least I was drug free – that is until the bar opens.

The final mean hill leads us back to the barge. We devour dinner, with extra chips. Better keeps the carbs up. Five days to go. I think I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.

Day two

It’s raining as the barge enters its second lock for the morning.

The riders, we are down to 12 today, squeeze into wet-weather gear and wave the barge farewell as it travels on to Menetreol where we will reconnect in the afternoon. The Canadian lady hasn’t made it out of her room.

Her husband looks way too pleased when he announces that he will stay on the barge to keep her company. The New Zealand couple, Cyril and Anne, also opt to stay onboard. I would have thought a rainy day would have been just like home for a couple of Kiwis, but apparently not.
The ride today is easier. We are mainly on cycle paths for 45km and really there’s not much need to even change gears.

We visit two wineries, a farm that makes delightful goat cheese and La Charite-sur-Loire one of the stopping points for pilgrims on the Santiago de Compostela. Towns like this pre-date Australia so the sense of history is overwhelming. Most towns that we visit on this trip have central tourism offices that offer free walking guide books that arm you with the information your need to fully explore the area.

Importantly, they also have clean toilets and internet connections.

Day three

This was meltdown day for Jan-Anna.

Thirteen of us left Menetreol up the hill, which some would describe as a mountain, to Sancerre, the capital of this world-famous wine-making region. Sancerre’s wine traditions date back to the 12th century. Today it produces some of France’s best sauvignon blancs.

The view of the Loire from the top of Sancerre is well worth the effort though. In 1572-73, Sancerre was the site of a siege during the Wars of Religion. Our next stop was the small family-owned winery of Philippe Raimbault and this is where the trouble began. We arrived just at the end of lunchtime and our French-speaking host generously gave up her time to show us various parts of the winemaking production.

She was also equally as generous in allowing us to taste four different wines.
To be honest, I didn’t really like any of the wines but bought a bottle of the Les Godons white to be polite.

No one else in the group, except Jan-Anna bought anything, prompting him to unleash a wave of muffled abuse that lasted for hours, and almost 25km back to the boat in Beaulieu-sur-Loire, which lies at the cross point of several regions: Le Berry, Sologne, Puisaye and Burgundy.

He told everyone that if he took them to a winery, and there was no tasting charge, that it was simply good manners to buy a bottle of wine.

Apart from the abuse, he said little else for the day except to call us all a “bunch of idiots” when we missed a turn he had failed to tell anyone about.

In the space of a 60km ride, Jan-Anna had managed to turn most of the group against him. He later acknowledged that he had been embarrassed by our behaviour, but that he should not have spoken his mind.

Thank goodness the beef bourguignon was sensational that night.

Day four

By now the main group was down to 12 riders. Our friendly Canadians, with the help of Jan-Anna were plotting a different course to avoid the hills. This I thought, was an excellent strategy.

For the rest of us, despite the frosty relationship, we headed off on what was the easiest ride of the week a 40km, mostly-flat journey from Beaulieu-sur-Loire to Chatillon-sur-Loire, Saint Brisson and Briare.

The aqueduct in Briare, our final destination for the day, was partly built by Gustave Eiffel between 1890 and 1894. It is a 662m link of the Loire Lateral Canal to the Briare Canal and it is the longest of its type in Europe. Jan-Anna did his best during the day to smooth things over and everything was once again on track.

Day five

Riding more than 200km in four days had taken its toll. Only two cyclists joined Jan-Anna when he left the barge to ride from Briare to Rogny-les-sept-Ecluses, via Ouzouer-sur-Trezee, about 70km. This was a good day to stay on the barge, as it passed through 17 locks and some picture-book French countryside. This is the end of the line for the barge so this will be our base for the last two nights on board.

For a Loire Valley bike and barge tour you actually get very little time on the barge when it is sailing so today was a great chance to relax and rest some tired legs. The Anna Maria IV is 38m long and 5.05m wide. At times it only just fits through the locks.

Day six

Last day on the bikes and the last day in the Loire Valley. By now I have a gel seat on my bike, padded pants on my bum, and it still aches. Thirteen of us head off this morning for Chatillon-Coligny, a town of about 2000 people. The ride today is 58km, with an afternoon visit to the Chateau de La Bussiere, nicknamed the fishermen castle because of its amazing collection of art relating to freshwater fishing.

The next morning we packed and headed back to Paris, but not before another drama unfolded. My mate Peter had lost his and his wife’s passports. He’d actually left them on the bus that brought us down from Paris. In one of the best cases of customer care I have seen, the ship’s captain Martijn took Peter on a three-hour journey to collect the passports. He didn’t have to. It was Peter’s fault. Had he not though, it would have cost Peter hundreds of euros in taxi fares to get the passports back.

That was certainly above and beyond customer-care expectations, but it did fit with the way we had been treated on board for the week. I asked everyone on board the obvious question: Would you do this kind of trip again? With one exception, the answer was yes. High praise, indeed. I might try Holland next time though. I’m sure that’s a flat country.

What the guests had to say

Peter Youll, Sydney
The crew were very obliging and competent nothing was too much trouble.

Beverley Zabow, Israel
The room has all the essentials, but no luxuries. I managed to sleep very well after a day’s riding but I had to do a gymnastic move to get into the bunk. My husband is too tall for the shower.

Cyril Allen, New Zealand
The food was bloody wonderful. It’s a meal, it’s not a tiny thing like you get in a restaurant. It was a basic three-course meal, and it was good.

Peter Smith, Gold Coast
The ride has been up to my expectations. The Loire Valley towns and villages we passed through were beautiful and picturesque. We had to go on a few main roads which was annoying but unpreventable. Overall, the ride has been excellent.

Cushioning effect

I now understand why bike riders wear the gear they do. Bike seats are not comfortable and they are certainly not made for big blokes like me. You will need bike pants to do this trip. You’ll also need a helmet and gloves. I went down the Icebreaker route and put together a brand co-ordinated outfit.

My bike cadence shorts cost $179.95 but in reality I would have paid twice that.

I didn’t wear them on two days (they needed to be washed) and the difference was amazing. The New Zealand-made Icebreaker gear is made from merino wool and really does, as it boasts, keep you cool on hot days and warm on cold days.

They are also marketed as smelling better it’s something to do with the merino but it does resist odour. After six or seven hours riding neither my wife nor I (pictured) were smelly. I also had a long-sleeve Tech T Lite M Stealth undershirt and a circuit jersey ($199.95). One thing I like about this brand is that you can, if you want to, find out from which sheep (farm really) the wool came.