The last 24 hours have been hectic, in fact, Hellish!! But in a strangely enjoyable, endurance, sort of way.
Starting out from Clapham junction at 15:00…getting to Portsmouth at 17:00.
Looking relatively happy, but actually stressed out my mind, which does come easy to me. Followed by a 12 hour, through the night, ferry from Portsmouth to St Malo. On the Bretagne, flag ship of the Brittany ferry fleet.
It had a helipad! Which calmed me somewhat – enough anyway to enjoy a really nice glass of Tourraine Sauvignon Blanc as the sun set over a somewhat flattered Portsmouth.
A great ship, lots going on, in the main part entertainment, very reminiscent of Butlins, but with the added danger of being in the middle of the busiest waterway in the world, in the pitch black. Saying that, you could hear our ship coming a mile off!! Quick tip – it is actually possible to get a good nights sleep on the carpeted floor of the seating cabin in your sleeping bag… I left mine with TZ and so didn’t!
After arriving in St Malo I had to catch 3 trains to get to Pornic. French trains are very geared up for bikes, so pretty simple, but a great deal of waiting around and then lumping TZ from train to platform and so on. By 15:30 we had mad it to Pornic and started our 15 miles, at least that’s what it should have been, to the campsite in St Brevin. I feel I am doing Rennes and Pornic an injustice, as they both looked lovely, but I was passing through in a daze so didn’t get any good shots of anything.
I say it should have been 15 miles – but Garmin is basically shit here – sending me across actual beach – which given the weight of TZ and I would have ended in sandy, drowning, tears. On that note, here is TZ by the Atlantic. This is St Brevins L’Ocean = a kind of French Bognor from what I could tell.
By around 17:30 we made it to our campsite, from where I write this. And in a cruel act of symmetry it turns out my campsite is both like Butlins, and Bognor. Blurred lines, and Euro trance blasting out at 22:30 with masses of French 13 year olds running wild, and their hormones by the sounds of it!!
Finally, we did get out briefly for some dinner and to scope the start of the Euro Velo 6 route. The food was awesome, even from a run of the mill bar thing. And here is the starting point:
So 26 hours of travelling, and I don’t start until tomorrow.
Rave on Camping de Mindin. Psy!!