Mobirise

Girona, por favor

Lockdown is over, Europe is open, petrol is never going to be even this affordable again (thanks Vlad). Time to go and play some golf in the sun.

I've been reading Dan Walsh's "These are the Days That Must Happen to You", most of which I am grateful never to have had to experience. But it's an interesting writing style, rather than a continuous narrative; single paragraphs of small moments, sometimes linked, sometimes polemical.

Thought I'd give it a go, so here are some of the bits that stuck in my mind.

Mobirise

Riding along the Loire to Amboise.
Because it's stopped raining, not too cold, and Leonardo da Vinci is buried in the Chateau du Clos Luce. 

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The walled city of Carcassone.
Petit and bijou, quite pricey but lovingly and sympathetically rebuilt in the last 150 years. The castle isn't overdone and the ramparts can be walked but only before sundown. Find a garden terrace to watch the sunset.

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Snow on the Pyrenees.
Riding in the sunshine along the sliver of land between the saltwater lagoon and the Mediterranean just above Perpignan and looking back inland. Not even remotely sorry I came this way.

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La Vie en Rose.
Parked up for a picnic lunch at St Cyprien beach. No wine but living the dream.

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The Franco-Spanish border 
Deserted concrete buildings, blocked up and blocked out with NY-style graffiti tags. The D914 is a blast from to Coullioure to Llanca along the coast, all twists and turns with awesome Med views and lots of unspoilt seaside villages.

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And this is what it was all about. The Sport of Kings

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PGA Catalunya

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Sunshine, wine, tapas and The Masters

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A man is only as good as his friends

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Amusing placenames.
Posting this picture with a suitably profane caption and watching my audience divide themselves into the ones who got it and the ones who didn't. FFS.

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A lenticular cloud near Valence. 
Hanging like a fluffy flying saucer, exactly as it looked in A Cloud A Day 

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What a difference a week makes.
On the way out, rain, congested traffic and a four hour delay while they fished a stranded freight train out of the Chunnel, into more rain all the way to Paris.
On the way back, a dedicated motorcycle lane and a private crossing in less than an hour from check-in to sunshine on the M20. Go figure. 

motorcycle emptiness

france is desolate. no pedestrians, closed shops, shutters, dark windows, doors covered in stickers, no signs announcing status. uninviting facade. still open (some of them)

modern living

tattoo shops on every street
eiffel tower on roundabout at Sains en Gohele (nearby Statue of Liberty)
a burger and glass of wine in paris costs the same as a hotel night elsewhere

train graffiti


riding caveats

rain gear; on early, off when roads dry

trous en formation (we are digging holes or holes in road surface, or both), circulation alternee: lots of road working

main towns get closer together; an hour or more in the south and 15-20 mins in the north

historical notes

paris well preserved, no high rise, all of a time because no rebuilding needed after WWII

N France remembers: cemeteries and Market Gardeners logo


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