Week 17: Riding the Tour train Route: Ste. Marie-de-Campan – Tarbes – Rabastens – Lombez – Toulouse – Carcassonne – Quillan 430 kilometers The riders in the Tour de France had a day off on Monday, but we didn’t. After packing up, we rode 50 km to Rabastens, where we would watch a sprint section
Week 17: Riding the Tour train
Route: Ste. Marie-de-Campan – Tarbes – Rabastens – Lombez – Toulouse – Carcassonne – Quillan
430 kilometers
The riders in the Tour de France had a day off on Monday, but we didn’t.
After packing up, we rode 50 km to Rabastens, where we would watch a sprint
section of the race. Luckily, we found a campground close to town, but
unfortunately for us, all the stores were closed, and none of the bars or
restaurants were serving food. Bob invented “Flan Yogurt Surprise,” which
definitely won’t end up in any books about exquisite French cuisine.
The next morning, you wouldn’t have known that the Tour would soon be passing
through the town. A few hours before the riders were to come through, the
banners for the sprint section were set up and people started lining the
sidewalks. Bob hoisted me up on his shoulders so I could see past the media
photographer who drove up and stood in front of me just a few moments before
the racers came through.
The riders passed by in a matter of seconds, and as soon as they were gone,
everyone left to go back to their jobs or to their homes for lunch. The
banners and barricades were taken down immediately. Bob and I hopped on our
bikes to ride 20 km back to Tarbes so we could watch the rest of the race on
TV, which officially made me a cycling fan.
Later, we followed part of the course heading east towards Toulouse. Someone
had painted Lance’s name inside a heart over and over on the road for miles.
Toulouse turned out to be my favorite city in France so far. It was here
that I finally felt like I was back in the real France – the sidewalks were
littered with dog poop and I felt remarkably underdressed. But the city was
nice, filled with parks, great little shops and interesting bars and cafes.
From there, we followed a tow path along the Canal du Midi and rode out
to Carcassonne, a small walled town that looked incredible from a distance,
but wasn’t truly authentic because much had been restored or created in the
19th century.
In Quillan, we stayed at a quiet, grassy campground above the town. That
night, we watched the stars come out, listened to music from the festival
down the hill, and watched the fireworks at midnight.
Week 18: Sun, crowds and surrealism
Route: Quillan – Perpignan – Figueres, Spain – Valras – Nimes
432 kilometers
We had one of our best rides from Quillan to Perpignan. The route took us
along a river and through a small, beautiful gorge lined with trees,
vineyards and steep limestone cliffs.
In Perpignan, we saw a story in an English paper about the nearby polluted
beaches, so we escaped the heat by seeing a movie in an air conditioned
theater instead of swimming in the ocean.
Since we were only a short train ride from Figueres in Spain, we went down
to check out the Dali museum – it’s the one that has the giant eggs perched on the roof.
As if that wasn’t enough surrealism, we then had to contend with the crowds
while continuing our trip along the Mediterranean in France. The roads were
all busy, the campgrounds were packed to the brim, and cost double the
normal rate. After an extremely windy and somewhat miserable afternoon at a
beach, we turned inland towards Nimes.
Next up: Roman ruins in Provence.
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