Tour To France August 2007

Last year we started planning a weeks holiday touring in the Champagne region of France. Originally there were 5 bikes, and 10 people going, then Pauline joined the group, and lastly Les and Janice. This gave us our group of 7 bikes and 13 people.
3 weeks before we were due to leave, Pauline had her bike serviced by Joe, and fell off on the way home, a low speed drop really, but enough to break her wrist. Even though she was in severe pain, she managed to ride the bike home, now that takes some doing, so Pauline had to drop out, then there were 12.
Then 2 weeks before we were due to go, the devastating news that Barbara had died shocked us to the core.
We laid Barbara to rest on the Weds before the start of our trip, not the nicest way to prepare, and then there were 11.
John decided to still make the trip, Barb would have wanted him to, it was better being amongst friends at this time.

Saturday

So now the day of the trip is here, up at 6am, we all got to the meeting point and set off, in high spirits and very excited to be off at last.
Our first planned stop was at the Cambridge services, re-fuel, and off again.
I pulled out onto the A14, and looked in my mirror, only Jim and Moira behind me, carrying on slowly for a few miles still nothing, then decided to stop at the next services and wait. Eventually the others arrived, Les had forgotten to do up his crash helmet, and then started to go the wrong way onto the A14, ok no harm done.
By now the sun was very hot, and we got over the Queen Elizabeth bridge, heading into Kent, looking behind me, only Jim and Chris there this time. What now?
Pulled into the next services and waited, eventually everyone turned up, Megan was riding in full wet weather gear, and had almost passed out in the heat, after a drink and a bit of clothing loosening we set off again.
The channel was as calm as could be, and we got to Dunkerque in glorious sunshine, and 30 degrees, boy was it hot.
After a sat-nav induced 25 mile detour, we got to the camp site, clothes all packed so it was down to shreddies, and get settled in.
After blowing up Les & Jan's air bed, it was found to be 2 feet bigger than the tent, good job it bent in the middle.
It was at this point, John,"Two-Tents", Simpson first realised that a big part of his tent was missing. Fortunately it was the inner tent, "I will be alright", he said, famous last words, every gnat in Dunkerque called round that night for a free bite. Best look for another one soon then, eh Two-Tents.
That night was great, bbq, beer, wine, chilled and relaxed, we had made it.

Sunday

Late up, we set off south, the day just got hotter, lovely empty roads, bliss, but just too hot to be riding in.
After a cold beer stop, which we think is where Jane left her waistcoat, we decided to stop in a town called Laon, the municipal site is a great camp site, well worth a stop at.
During the evening, John met a lovely Dutch couple, by the time we turned up, he had already finished a bottle of wine, and by the end we all had a fantastic night.

Monday

Next morning we set off sight-seeing in the town, no coats, it was a fine day, funny how you can always find plenty of parking spaces in France, we parked next to an old church and started to explore.
It's a fascinating old town, 2 big medieval churches, and a crazy cable car sized train ride down from the old town to the town square at the bottom.
We went into a cafe for drinks, cafe au lait please, and tea's, black coffee and tea arrived, we do not have any milk the waitress explained, can I have a capucino, asks Jane, sorry no milk, what kind of cafe is this?
So across the road, superb sandwiches and cakes and then back up in the runaway train. Then the rain started. After dodging in and out of doorways for about an hour, we made it back to the bikes, got some bin liners and rode back to the camp site.
Suitably kitted up we set off for the shops, all except for Ged and Megan, nudge nudge, wink wink.
During this trip I made the single most important purchase of the whole trip, two tarpaulin sheets and a ball of string. Thankfully there are a lot of trees on the camp sites, and very good roof supports they make too.
We now had a communial seating area, perfect, until the gnats woke up, and thought they needed it more than we did, it was the Shindig all over again, only this time Jane got all the bites.

Tuesday

Next day, hot and sunny, off we go then, nice days ride south, sat-nav guided, we managed to miss just about every turn off on the way.
After some long winding roads, John, who was leading, stopped sharply, at what looked like the middle of a field to me, and turned right.
When I caught up, the others had all set off after him, and yes it was a dirt track in the middle of a field. I thought this has to go to a farm yard, and set off too.
There was an old railway crossing at the other end of the field, four foot high grass and half the track missing, was a bit of a clue that it no longer worked, and the road stopped at a grave yard.
John said the sat-nav had this as a road, not so sure myself, anyway we had arrived at the town of Dienville, our destination
It was still sunny, and very hot, the tents still dripping from the morning, took minutes to dry out, this is it, sunny days, warm lake, made it.
As Chris unpacked, he found that the off side pannier had been resting on his exhaust. This had caused the pannier to burn away, and set fire to all his new clothes, brand new, still in the cellophane.
"Been wondering what the burning smell was", seemed to be said by more than one of us.
We eat at a restaurant in the port that night, when I say port, well, lets say there were a few boats moored up. As it got dark, Wendy, who was sat under a big light, got dive bombed by hundreds of moths who were too busy blowing on their feet to fly.
Not as funny for her, I am sure.

Wednesday

Bright, not really sunny, we set off to Troyes. On the way it rained, not much, but a quick? stop for waterproofs, and onwards again
This proved to be the worst day of our holiday, just a bit of light rain made the roads a bit greasy, not that this is being used as an excuse, but on the crest of a small hill, at a fork in the road, we managed to stuff more bikes than the usual one onto the same piece of road.
As I was riding last man, we saw the drama unfold at lightning speed in front of us.
John seemed to start to turn off onto the right fork in the road, Chris, realised a bit late what he was doing and braked very hard, sliding on the slippery road, and then hitting the gravel, mucho brown trouser time, before coming safely to a stop. Jim managed to stop safely, and then Les came by, he hit the loose stuff, shot into the barrier, bounced off, then hit John, bounced off him and hit the barrier again.
At this point his Dragstar took off, I found myself looking at the underside of the bike, as it flipped in mid air, it was a really frightening thing to sit through.
I came to a stop behind Jim, Ged went past and stopped a little further along the road.
John's bike was on it's side, Les's was in the road, Janice was on the grass, Les flat out with blood coming from his chin, and John struggling to get to his feet, it seemed like carnage.
As often is the case, things are not always as bad as they at first seem, Johns ankle proved to be badly bruised and not broken, Jan's knees bruised and sore ribs, were uncomfortable but not too serious. Then there was Les.
Landing face down in gravel, especially wearing an open face helmet, is always risky, and gravel rash on the chin is not nice. Luckily one of the drivers first on the scene, was a nurse, and she tended to Les, who's first question was, "Is my bike alright?", my hero.
The next thing Les said to Janice was, "They will definately call me non-stick now, won't they?", sorry Les but, too right we will.
It wasn't that bad, the crash bars took almost all of the impacts, if you do not have them, get some, they are fantastic. After some pulling and twisting the bike proved to be rideable.
John's bike took a fair old whack on the side, a few scratches, and a pannier with an extra hole or two then there was the screen, John had tried to eat it as Les arrived, nasty bang just under the nose, sore but not as sore as his ankle.
After directing traffic for a while, the ambulance arrived, then the police. Now they want forms filling in, typical, no English then. Oh well, after some going round the block a couple of times, we eventually got the forms filled in, note to self, LEARN MORE FRENCH!!!
John followed the ambulance to the hospital, Chris and Wendy stayed with the bike, the rest of us went back to the camp site.
Jim came back with me, and we picked up the bike, and headed for the hospital. This was a long day, hospitals move slowly, so we set off for Lidl, to get some meat and salad for tonights tea.
Leaving our coats, because it was quite a warm day, we started walking. Five minutes later, it started to rain. We pressed on, it's not much. Then it rained harder, get under these trees. Then harder, it's coming right through the trees, lets get under that door way.
Well I have seen some rain in my time, especially this year, but never anything like this. The parapet over the door, was at best a foot wide, and we were soaked above our knees by the rain bouncing off the pavement.
Wendy had decided to tough it out under the tree, bit like standing in a shower really, then it thundered, and she screamed and ran over to us, "I am not standing under a tree in a thunderstorm", she said.
Don't know if it was the thunder, or the excess of rich food and drink, but, Jim "Iron-Lung" Salmon, was trapped between a couple with less than perfumed aromas a pretty constant threat. It's fun when you have a captive audience.
After about 45 minutes the rain slowed down, we never did make it to the shop.
The ride back was fairly slow, and very windy, but dry. No food, off to the docks again then.
We met this family from Middlesborough, try the three piano's, they said, so we set off only about half a mile, that's a long way when your ankle feels like it's broken, poor John.
Only to find the bloody place closed. Back to the port then. On the way back we met the family again, "It was shut", we said, funny that, was when we went, they said.
Later back at the tents, we had a good night drink. Was it the release at the end of a trying day? or maybe the lure of a litre of pernod. I don't know, but I got blind, passed out, on my knees, calling for the relatives, sick, drunk.
Les said he never saw anyone go to sleep so quickly. I guess I was snoring about a foot before I hit the ground. I am not proud of it, and Chris is never pouring my drinks again, not even if he has got his glasses on.

Thursday

Second worst day of the holiday. It rained, and rained and then rained some more.
We played table tennis, football, cards, and watched the raging flood waters around France on the news. By 3pm. the tents were standing in an inch of water, and no let up in sight.
We wimped out, and took a gite for the night, no point in packing up wet through in the morning. This was a smart move, by the time we had packed up all the gear, we were soaked and knackered.
Hot showers, beds to sleep in, apart from me that is, I got the kitchen floor, and a proper house fully kitted out, bliss, and only cost us and extra 7 euros each, bargain.
Jim and I went to the local shop in search of tea, we bought all the frozen fish we could carry, chips, baked beans, bread, and anything else we thought we could eat. The girls then cooked up a fantastic meal, while the guys slept on the three piece suite, can't thank you enough ladies. We had two sittings, us first while the girls made sure we eat eveything, and then their turn, while we went back to sleep.

Friday

Still raining, bikes all packed ready to go, the usual audience watching us, only now Les cannot find his keys.
Everything off, then my bike won't start, can we get a jump start please?
After a good search, with Chris acting as brolly dolly, the keys turned up in Les's pocket, setting off an hour and a half later, we were all saying thank you to him, for the rain had stopped, never to blight us again.
After negotiating a roundabout with the most diesel I have ever seen on a road all round it, the journey to the coast was pretty much a breeze.
That is until we came to leave the motorway nearing Calais, as we slowed I found I could not see for smoke, looking down the bike was covered in oil. All the engine, my legs, Jan's legs, the luggage, the rear wheel, everything, what the hell is going on. Time for a bit of a strip down and, thanks to Chris for the bolt, a roadside repair job.
Then on to Dunkerque, where the Formule 1 was waiting. After a good meal, and a 3 minute, 20 euro each way taxi ride (How Much?), Jane John Jan, and I spent a happy couple of hours finishing off the last of the booze.

Saturday

Homeward bound. The port was 2 miles from the hotel, good job really, as I still could not see for burning oil. We met a group of Belgian bikers, on their way to England for a drink, must be great to be able to do that, different kind of ride out.
These guys were proper bikers, they had four pints before we got to England, smashing people.
As we came out of the port, we managed to lose Ged and Jim, can't be too easy can it, didn't see them again until Stanstead services.
Sunny again, lovely ride home from there, lovely. Jim's bike has developed a rattle, phew, only a loose cover.
All home, safe, and for the most part sound.
Where are we going next year?
Don't know, but I sure as hell would be priviledged to do with you all again, if you will have me that is.

Terry
Slideshow
Pictures