Gorged on Gorges

(note: two posts published at once; read the Pyrenees one first)

Breakfast was included in the price of the Gite so I made the most of it.  We were given a few bread rolls and a dry brioche-thing – and the coffee and tea was on-tap so I had 3 huge mugs of coffee.  I was ready for anything.   The kind (everyone has been so good to us!) Gite owner phoned the campground-of-the-left-charger and checked to see it had been posted. Indeed it had been posted. We were one step closer to being reunited.

The Lonely Planet route took us from Millau through Gorge de la Dourbie and Gorges du Trevezel, then up over a pass towards Mt Aigoual. 

 It was a bit cool and windy and threatening to rain.  We were planning to stop for lunch at a small place called Camprieu.  It had been a reasonably gentle – but continuous – climb from Millau and my energy was sapping. With less than 5km to our lunch stop I was knackered. All I wanted was to get off my bike and eat a banana. But I kept telling myself “we’re nearly there!”  It got colder the higher we got.  I was envisioning having to find a sheltered spot and setting up the gas cooker to make us hot food to warm up.  Finally we arrived in the tiny town. There was a restaurant that looked barely open from the outside, but I saw a person inside and a light on.  We stepped inside. It was warm.  There were tables of people sitting quietly eating lunch and drinking glasses of wine; looking very warm, dry and civilised.  “Shall we have lunch here?” was pretty much a rhetorical question.

We sat down happily and looked at the Set Menu.  It pleasingly had only two choices (I can’t stand menus with multiple choices that just confuse and befuddle).  It was a choice of rabbit or beef. We both chose the rabbit.   Out came the first course which was warmed Camembert on a bed of lettuce.  That was demolished fairly quickly, along with the whole basket of bread in the middle of the table.  The next course arrived – the rabbit – and the waitress kindly replaced the bread without a word.  The rabbit was divine – I think it was the creamy sauce that made it.  Dessert was a choice of cheese or tart.  I chose the cheese and out came a huge platter of cheese – obviously you were supposed to eat what you liked then the rest was given to someone else.  It was a good thing I was full by this stage; otherwise it could have gotten embarrassing if I’d been unable to stop eating the cheese….

Feeling very warm and full and relaxed (we had a glass of wine with the meal) I really didn’t face stepping out into the cold – and now rainy – outside.  A group of cyclists arrived and my first thought was “mad people”.  

We eventually left the warmth of the restaurant and layered up with an extra layer of warm clothes for the descent into Meyrueis.   Any thought of continuing upward to Mt Aigoual had long since dissipated.

The post office was closed when we arrived in Meyrueis, and there was a public holiday (celebrating Ascension) the next day (Thursday) so we checked into the campground for two nights.  I like to chose a tent site close to the toilets - I can't be bothered walking long distances to get water and use the facilities and often we stay only one night.  The spot we chose in Meyrueis couldn't have been closer to the facilities and we felt a bit like being in a fishbowl as everyone walked right past. They probably thought we were a bit odd, especially when our tent was placed so close to the road despite the large piece of grass available (it was the flattest spot) and one morning we were practically sitting on the road to eat breakfast (it was the sunniest spot).

On Thursday we went for a day trip in the gorge.

  Meyrueis is situated near the famous Gorges du Tarn.   

I was feeling quite lethargic but was soon cured by a Magnum Double Chocolate followed rapidly by a steep switch-backed climb out of the gorge and up onto the Causse Mejean plateau.  We met an italian cycling couple in their 50's - they had stopped near the top to admire the view and the road snaking below us and the woman exclaimed "that was like having a baby!  I'm so happy I could die right now!"

On Friday morning just after nine I arrived at the post office in eager anticipation.  The post office lady was a bit scary and not very smiley.  "No" there was no parcel waiting for me.  In french she explained the daily post arrived around 11am.  We headed back to the campground and relaxed.  Julie read books and I perused maps; salivating over the upcoming legs of our trips, especially the Alps.   After 11am I returned to the post office and the abrupt answer was "no."   I showed her a business card from the camping and asked if she would phone there when it arrived  - "no!".  Oh.   Just before the post shop closed I couldn't help but pop by 'just in case' the package had arrived. The scary lady looked at me like I was a bit slow and said "no!" and some other words in french; something to do with the post arriving only once a day.  Saturday morning, after 11am I stepped into the post office to be greeted with a shake of the head and "no!".  Oh.  Now what?  The post offices would all be closed until Monday. We had to decide whether to hang around for the charger - which would hopefully arrive Monday but possibly not at all - or whether to continue cycling and request the post office forward it when it arrived.  It seemed to much uncertainty so we checked in for another 2 nights at the campground.  We got on the bikes for another day trip - by this stage it was after lunch so we didn't really have time for much more than doing the route we'd done on Friday but in reverse.  The gorge was so nice that seeing it from the other direction was great.  We came across a farmers market and bought a punnet of cherries for 2 euro - and demolished them on the spot.

On Sunday we did a longer day trip, a circuit of the rest of the gorge.  

The weather was fairly patchy with showers of rain on and off and it was frustrating back at the campground to not be able to use my computer and use the free wifi. There was no internet cafe in town.

On Monday I stepped back into the post office and Scary Post Lady smilingly handed me a package. She didn't ask for ID or anything.  I bounced  back to the campground. The package was wrapped extremely well with layers of packing tape, requiring a knife to open it.  It looked suspiciously thin to contain both charger and adaptors.  When I finally got into the package my charger was there - with camera battery safely inside - and carefully wrapped in squishy protective stuff.  But the adaptor was not there.   I now had my camera charger back: but couldn't use it.  And I still couldn't use my computer.  I felt like the way you feel when you stub your toe - twice.  The pain of the first time is enough, but the second stub makes you so angry!  I just couldn't believe the silly woman at the campground where I'd left the charger wouldn't include the adaptor it was attached to! Finding an adaptor in Europe to fit a New Zealand plug is not easy.  I even asked the campground manager in Meyrueis if they had any Australian or New Zealand guests I could borrow an adaptor from  - she said "not at the moment - but did you know all the Australians and New Zealanders we have come through here come on bicycles?"

I can’t say I’m all that enthralled with my new Thermarest – the first night seemed fine but after that it was like sleeping on a board.  I tried putting more air; then less air.   I kept waking with the same old problem that led me to buying Big Agnes – numb arms; sore legs; sore back; really sore elbow… One morning I woke with such a stiff back I had to get out of bed at 6:30 and go walking.  I wandered into Meyrueis and explored the little alleyways.  It’s nice being out that time of the morning.  The bakery opened at 7:30am and I just had to go in.  There was the most gorgeous looking slice I have seen.  It was called “Rouge” and it was a pastry base with raspberry jam spread over, with more pastry and slivered almonds on top.  I bought it for Julie and me to share, but I ate half of it on the way back to the campground.

I retrieved the banished Big Agnes mat from solitary confinement at the bottom of one of my pannier bags, inflated it, and placed it on top of the thermarest.   I then tied them together (to stop Big Agnes sliding off the Thermarest and annoying Julie all night) with 2 pairs of thermal longjohns - and so far it is working well!  The Big Agnes still self-deflates overnight; but not completely, so the combination works.  

  

We left Meyrueis, a record 5 nights after arriving, and cycled back along a road we were beginning to know really well.  It was a lovely scenic road up out of Meyrueis, overlooking the Gorge du Tarn - but we'd cycled it a number of times by this stage.  We crossed the Causses Mejean (plateau between the gorges) and then the switchbacked descent into Florac. 

 Having given up on ever getting my adaptor back (or at least, getting back any time soon) I was now on a mission to find an adaptor to get my computer running again.