As we were suppose to make Les Ponts-de-Ce the day before, we got up early to make up the ground. Alas after chugging up a hill, at the top, it was decided the route didn't look right, so we turned back around. Now back at the campsite, we found a cycle route that went down to the river we needed to go along. This seemed nice, pleasant and no road traffic, but as with all things it wasn't going to go our way. And after a short while we found the path turned from asphalt to gravel-cum-mud. Ah. So this wasn't the way either. So back up the hill we had already done. Now successfully navigating our way to Ponts-de-ce, we found it would have been good to make this town. It was situated on an eyot, and had a large traditional market. With no time for sentiments, we cracked on through Ponts-de-ce, trying desperately not to accidentally follow a slip-road down on to the motorway (after what happened the day before!).
At the town of Beaulieu-sur-layon, hunger caught up with us and a cheeky stop at a Spar shop with the standard can of coke, baguette, cheese and ham the order of the day. Sitting in a bus-shelter, we watched the sky turning increasingly black. Due to this we saw it best to move on fairly quickly as the clouds would stay "behind" us if we could go faster than them.
Now luckily before we set off from the campsite we had written down a few obscure place names as just-in-case my map showing only large towns and cities wasn't going to be sufficient. And guess what those place names were hugely useful as my map was becoming more of a hindrance than a helpful navigational tool! The roads between Beaulieu-sur-layon and Vilhiers were fantastic, with few cars and chamfered corners twisting and meandering through harmonious vineyards, making it a very gratifying cycle.
After going through Vilhiers, the roads straightened and ish flattened out, so we put the pedal to the metal (the shoe to the pedal? not quite the same) and bombed along, moving in and out of each others slipstreams making great progress. At Argenton-les-vallees, I suppose its kind of in the name, it went down into a deep valley and steeply back out. Now decidedly famished and having promises on billboards of an upcoming MaccyD, our tummies rumbled and we tried to get to Bressuire as quickly as possible. Grrr the billboards eventually told us where the MaccyD was and it certainly wasn't in Bressuire, so just had to hope these French townsfolk weren't all on sabbaticals.
Well the billboards were back, showing promise of cornucopia in Bressuire. So we hastily cycled down some steep slopes to a hypermarket. And you've probably guessed it - ham, cheese and baguette - which we ate standing around in some large grubby carpark. There was a cafe inside, but apparently French people eat at aberrant times so he could only offer us some hogwash. As the food excursion took us on a bit of a detour, we had to guess where we came from/ the direction we needed to go in order to get back en route. Trying to memorise a map just outside the hypermarket. The only road I could and still can remember was Rue de Bel-Air, because it reminded me of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.. sorry strange sidetrack I know!
As fas as I can remember we had a fairly decent cycle to Coulonges-sur-l'Autize, where we came across a load of little brats on their hairdryer scooters and then the worst campsite known to man. I won't describe it because it makes me unhappy, but I would go as far as saying it was the equivalent to purgatory. So a phone call to Dear Pater, told us there was a campsite in Coulon. So talking to Andy I said we could go to another campsite, which I told him was just up the road. When he asked how far "just up the road" is it, I thought it best to lie and said it was about 10km. It was actually over 20km, but it was the end of the day, the sun was setting and we had cycled pretty hard. So the lie was needed to encourage us to just go for it. After about 5km there was a sign to where we were going which read something like 18km, Andy saw this and didn't look too impressed! But we were still cycling well and even overtook a vehicle, ok it was a tractor, but still.
Finally we got to Coulon and rocked up to the campsite which was signposted. But we had just missed the opening hours as it closed at 7, and we were there just after. But again a call to papa revealed we had gone to the wrong campsite, and there was still another 2km to the other campsite! So we ponderously cycled to this campsite and was treated to some great scenery. The area was like a green Venice, with lovely clean still canals, with willow trees hanging over and little punting boats moored along the banks. This was the most expensive campsite we went to about 25 euros, but we had made good progress so I suppose it was worth it and we didn't have to stay with the imps and gremlins of the other campsite.
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