Celle Ligure – Riva

97.6km

Typically, when I’m cycling I’m either thinking about how much my legs hurt or thinking about where to go.

I chose the coastal route today because I thought it’d be easy on the legs.

Despite the (fantastico) tunnels there were still a lot of hills in the way. I guess I should have expected it when the mountains seem to come straight out of the sea.

Navigation on a coastal route should be easy, just keep the sea to your right. Works fine until someone puts a city in the way…

I was so proud of myself for finding a cycle lane that seemed to be following the coast through Genova. I was less proud of the cycle lane when it stopped abruptly and I was spat out onto what felt like a motorway.

We took advantage of ending up in the city centre to appreciate some architecture… and recover from the trauma with some coffee.

Mr Garmin and I actually teamed up to do a fantastico job of exiting the city. I just turned him into compass and headed east. It turned out well not giving Mr Garmin a voice so neither of us had to shout at each other. I wonder if I replaced Mr Garmin with a compass my simple brain would be happier.

I wonder if Olive would affect the compass seeing as she’s made of iron?

Life’s deep and difficult questions being debated for hours on end.

Another question – are palm trees actually just giant pineapples? I saw the inside of one and they look the same. I only didn’t taste it because it was too much of a detour off the road.

The other issue I’ve addressed today is the Italian drivers reputation. As I see it they drive like I cycle – command the road, stop unexpectedly to take pictures or go to the supermarket and communicate with horns where I communicate with a bell. Don’t want to speak too soon but they don’t seem too bad… or no worse than English drivers anyway.

I was having such a leisurely time I left finding camp a bit late. And it got later every time I stopped to watch the sunset. I’ve ended up on a beach and am just hoping the tide doesn’t come this high… Wish me luck!

Nice – Imperia

99.94km

Dear Monsieur Eurovelo,

I sometimes don’t know where I stand with you. One moment we’re best friends then BOOM – you hit me with a mountain, straight out of the sea. Maybe when you’re next route planning take a field trip to Nice, enjoy the wonderful sea breeze then see how you feel lugging a fully laiden bike up that col. It may be beautiful but maybe not designed for the long distance cycle tourist.

I literally could not have been happier on my segregated cycle way pootling through Nice, sharing the sea views with the lovely locals out for their morning run.

I was so happy with the quality of the cycleway that I thought: “Let’s stay with Mr Eurovelo for the morning and see if he can show us the way to Italy.”As soon as we rounded the headland the cycleway disappeared. I know I should have seen the warning signs that this relationship wasn’t going to end well.

Up and up we climbed, into the moody mountains.

What a rollercoaster. Back at the coast I spied Monaco from afar and decided against it, two countries is enough for one day. Looks like a cycling nightmare.

Without Laura I was at a loss to identify the boats – is there even any difference between superyacht, cruise liner and shipping containers?

I can honestly say I never thought I’d make it to Italy with that hill in the way. I had to make an emergency boulangerie stop when I saw the border in case they don’t have pastries in Italy.

Italy has made a fantastic first impression for cycling infrastructure. It turns out I’ve spent the afternoon on a greenway. I think greenways should take over the world because that’d be the way to make more people cycle. It puts French cycle lanes to shame!

Entirely independent cycle roads on the seafront with their own incredible tunnels filled with locals and tourists alike – toddlers in cargo bikes, kids on tandems, little old ladies with their shopping, mamils, whole families on pedal driven car things, the list goes on!

I felt a little guilty passing the colourful seaside towns but when there was a way to bypass the busy roads as easy as that I couldn’t help myself.

Slightly disappointing campsite choice put a downer on the afternoon. What is it with camspites that don’t have grass? The lady genuinely didn’t think I’d need to peg my tent down because “it’s not windy here”. Clearly I’m more clued up on the storm forecast overnight than her…

The thing that brightened my evening is that I bought the biggest aubergine in the world.

St-Vallier-de-Thiey – Nice (rest day)

30km

Naturally when there is barely any distance to travel and 16hours to kill before Laura’s flight my body clock chimes it’s bells as early as ever. Luckily today there was no dragons breath with the cold – we must be getting close to the coast.

The mountains had one last spectacle for us before we dropped dropped down. Showing us all their glory, peaking out through the clouds. It was sad to see them go.

I wonder if I have tired myself out a bit because we managed to sit for hours on the seafront and I barely even fidgeted. Now that must be a first!

Laura spent her time (as she does whenever there’s a nearby body of water) commenting on, judging and photographing the boats. She sits there and tuts at their incompetence then sends pictures to all her clever sailing friends. Anything to keep the little one happy. My artistic photographic talent might not show it but there’s a tall ship coming out of the harbour here

I think Nice made it too easy for her though. There is literally a cycle lane that goes into the airport building. None of the motorway dashing I had to contend with when I arrived in Spain. The polar opposite.

Trigance – St-Vallier-de-Thiey

73.4Km

Just as Laura’s time on the mega adventure draws to a close she is settling in. Today I have been impressed by 3 aspects of her attitude:

1. She embraced the cycling spirit. We were travelling up a valley mid morning and it was so peaceful and beautiful. We cycled about an hour barely exchanging a word of conversation, just experiencing the life in the lee of these mighty, majestic mountains.
2. She agreed that the hours spent in the granny gear, crawling up the mountains at snails pace were worth it for the incredible swooping descents through the forests.
3. Lastly, and most importantly, she’s started referring to distances and times of day depending on the upcoming food opportunities. Today she didn’t even comment on kilometres travelled. She talked only about distance to second breakfast, distance to coffee and distance to “that town on the top of that hill that we could have lunch at”. A woman after my own heart.

I think in a lot of ways today was an improvement on yesterday. Yesterday had the most impressive and awe inspiring views imaginable. Today had hidden valleys, hilltop villages and panoramic views over hills and valleys as far as the eye can see.

We also had the gorge du Siagne all to ourselves, winding our way along quiet country lanes.

Like every day it had it’s ups and downs, no pun intended. I stress ate my way through half a tub of peanut butter (after searching southern Europe for it for a month I found some today!) to make it through a thunderstorm. Laura’s leaving tomorrow and I had a meltdown about how much harder it is alone and how I can’t do it. I then ate a lot of custard to feel better. Getting any ideas about my coping mechanisms?

Marseille – Gréoux-le-Bains

91km

The joy that Jehanne, our host, brought to our lives continued and reached new levels. Laura had warned her about Meg’s problem with not being able to sleep once the Sun’s up so she had laid out breakfast in advance! What a hero.

She set us off with directions to escape the city. It’s days like today that remind me why I avoid the cities. After a gruelling, busy, crawl through the traffic we did escape though.

As soon as we hit the quiet roads Olive started singing (it was all uphill and the low gears seem to squeak) and Laura started to appreciate why I wanted to escape to the hills. The above picture is Olive trying to run away up the next hill rather than posing nicely for the picture.

After much debate Laura’s bike has been named Marie. Marie loves the mountains. She flies up and glides down like a graceful, silent eagle. She also loves listening to us singing “how do you solve a problem like Maria”. She’s only Marie not Maria because it’s France.

The scenery was glorious today. Just stunning. My highlights were the triple decker sandwich for lunch and the bread bin at the campsite; you can see where my priorities lie…

I think Laura’s was the dip she took in the river Verdon (crazy kid, it’s still freezing!)

Galician – Martigues

118km

Potentially the biggest challenge of the morning today was waking up in a snail party. I don’t think I’ve ever pitched a tent in a snail bed before. They were literally everywhere.

Once we’d escaped their nest though we were doing anything but snails pace. We absolutely flew along canals and windy roads with the wind on our backs, oh what joy!

We managed to put the brakes on long enough in Arles for an explore to find a roman amphitheatre.

Then we hit the canals again. Oh how we rejoiced at French cycling infrastructure! And incredible wildlife – who knew there were flamingos in France! Not forgetting the swans, herons, eagles and thousands of swallows.

All was going swimmingly until we thought the day had finished. We arrived at our campsite to find it was closed. Grumpy man chased us off site saying there was another site nearby. After much hunting we found an other side but it was a building site rather than a campsite. Either being renovated or not yet built… firmly closed.

You know things were serious and Meg was tired by the fact I got the stove out by the side of the road and made emergency pasta. We also found what seemed to be a 24h boulangerie and Laura had emergency quiche

If it hadn’t been for the stormy finish it would have been a perfect day. As I keep reminding Laura “we like a challenge” but maybe challenges could be fewer and further between.