I got there. Many months later, with a couple of farming interludes and time in Turkey, I finally finished cycling from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea.
I started in springtime, the sunflowers not yet opened, and ended with them crispy, ready to be harvested for oils. That was actually quite depressing, really. No-one ever shows you pictures of dead and burnt sunflowers. They're supposed to be happy, heads aloft waiting for bees to land on them.
From Toulouse to Agde, I was back along the Canal du Midi. Much less travelled by cyclists and hikers than you'd think, except close to big cities, the canal is a beautiful, quiet, and very tranquil experience. The closer I got to the coast, the more impressive the structures, massive lock structures, bridges, tunnels, systems to pull water into the canal, many built during the 17th century.
I had a three-day break in Carcassonne, because I managed to stumble my way into their yearly fete. There was dancing in the streets to be had, and I was going to be part of it. Unfortunately, I took no photos of that--too busy dancing.
At some points along the way there are small cafes, usually at the ecluses (locks) . . . there is one near Castelnaudary that has a tarte au citron to die for. Two euros, it was a bright point in my day.
But I like my campground meals just as much. Look at this hearty breakfast!
Arriving at the ocean, I beat a massive storm by about 10 minutes. So half of my tent set-up was done in pouring, soaking rain. However, two Englishmen ran over with their hammers (the ground was awfully hard for my foot-method of putting my tent pegs into the ground. Tent set up, I was beckoned under the awnings of the tents of these two men and their families. From central England, these two friends are actually neighbours back at home. Given a glass of red wine and a chair, I sat talking with the families, as I saw hail stones as big as a one-cent piece pelt my tent. So, instead of spending the evening by myself and getting an early night (I had grand hopes of getting up early to meet the sunrise) I ended up doing word finds with Isablle (5) answering questions of Jake (9) and chatting with the rest of the family. There had been talk of Trivial Pursuits, but alas, no luck for me this time.
In the morning, I turned off my alarm, and slept through until 7:30 . . . late enough to miss the dawn, but the beach was still beautiful when I made it down there around 8am. Feet in the water, I had made it.
Despite clouds remaining still slightly ominous, I had to put the end parenthesis on my journey across the country . . . having jumped into the Atlantic Sea when I first arrived in Biarritz, it was time to jump in in the Mediterranean. The water was absolutely lovely, surprisingly warm and I splashed around like a kid before biking back to tear down my tent and get back on the road--this time to Montpellier, to see if I would like to live there for the next period of time I have to spend in France. And that remains to be seen, but it's an adventure nonetheless!
(Before and after shots from jumping into the sea).
I started in springtime, the sunflowers not yet opened, and ended with them crispy, ready to be harvested for oils. That was actually quite depressing, really. No-one ever shows you pictures of dead and burnt sunflowers. They're supposed to be happy, heads aloft waiting for bees to land on them.
From Toulouse to Agde, I was back along the Canal du Midi. Much less travelled by cyclists and hikers than you'd think, except close to big cities, the canal is a beautiful, quiet, and very tranquil experience. The closer I got to the coast, the more impressive the structures, massive lock structures, bridges, tunnels, systems to pull water into the canal, many built during the 17th century.
I had a three-day break in Carcassonne, because I managed to stumble my way into their yearly fete. There was dancing in the streets to be had, and I was going to be part of it. Unfortunately, I took no photos of that--too busy dancing.
At some points along the way there are small cafes, usually at the ecluses (locks) . . . there is one near Castelnaudary that has a tarte au citron to die for. Two euros, it was a bright point in my day.
But I like my campground meals just as much. Look at this hearty breakfast!
Arriving at the ocean, I beat a massive storm by about 10 minutes. So half of my tent set-up was done in pouring, soaking rain. However, two Englishmen ran over with their hammers (the ground was awfully hard for my foot-method of putting my tent pegs into the ground. Tent set up, I was beckoned under the awnings of the tents of these two men and their families. From central England, these two friends are actually neighbours back at home. Given a glass of red wine and a chair, I sat talking with the families, as I saw hail stones as big as a one-cent piece pelt my tent. So, instead of spending the evening by myself and getting an early night (I had grand hopes of getting up early to meet the sunrise) I ended up doing word finds with Isablle (5) answering questions of Jake (9) and chatting with the rest of the family. There had been talk of Trivial Pursuits, but alas, no luck for me this time.
In the morning, I turned off my alarm, and slept through until 7:30 . . . late enough to miss the dawn, but the beach was still beautiful when I made it down there around 8am. Feet in the water, I had made it.
Despite clouds remaining still slightly ominous, I had to put the end parenthesis on my journey across the country . . . having jumped into the Atlantic Sea when I first arrived in Biarritz, it was time to jump in in the Mediterranean. The water was absolutely lovely, surprisingly warm and I splashed around like a kid before biking back to tear down my tent and get back on the road--this time to Montpellier, to see if I would like to live there for the next period of time I have to spend in France. And that remains to be seen, but it's an adventure nonetheless!
(Before and after shots from jumping into the sea).
THIS IS SO AWESOME! Mazel Tov!
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