Round the world with Glen: The "Frothing French Man"

May 14th 2006

Once again I find it difficult putting the previous weeks cycle into coherent sentences. Each day feels so big that time moves at a snails pace and my thoughts by the evening are only a colorful blur.

I should begin with a long standing British tradition, the weather, of which I am slowly learning to understand. The skies of London always seem shaped as letter boxes, searching to see a horizon through narrow streets. I now spend all day looking at huge skies . and I search them with eagle eyes for signs of rain. I have been plagued with the stuff since leaving Reims. At around 5 o’clock without fail I hear rumbles then all becomes dark as I race to set up my tent, which is still wet from the previous night. I have started talking to myself as I trundle along which I am finding most enjoyable. The whole affair becomes rather energetic when once again the rumblings begin. The constant drumming of rain whilst I lie in my tent has been a real annoyance.

Floods as I dip into valleys.

Only tonight, for the first time in a whole week am I able to sit outside as I quaff a glass of red wine (only 80p!)..... marvelous.

The lie of the land soon changed after leaving Reims. I was now traveling through the land of Champagne growers. As I am sure will happen often, my expectations of rolling hills strewn with vineyards, sun bleached soil and offers of free champagne tasting were sadly not met. In short it was miserable. The fields were a mushy pulp with a few straggles of somthing emerging from the soil, wrapped in sharp rusty wires. I could only just make out oncoming road signs through the screen of water dripping from my yellow cycling cap.(translate yellow to a more honest shade of brown) All thoughts of enjoying a champagne and porridge breakfast were truly squelched.

As an aside, I recently read of a lady who has toured many miles on her cycle. She recounted her morning ritual of porridge preparation with dousings of honey to finish. I have now become a porridge fan in earnest, and it is truly a great way to start the day. It is a heavy food but literally worth every gram in morning morale boostings. I have just finished the box brought from Shepherds Bush, does the rest of the world eat porridge?

Apart from the region of Champagne mush I have been blessed by days of truly glorious cycling. The subtle nuances and shifts in the land as I have traveled toward the alps has been everything I had hoped. It has all passed by at a now whopping 10 miles an hour average speed, just to repeat, YES! that is a double figure, a big one zero, average miles per hour.)...anyway to continue........

Of all the conscious reasons for embarking on this voyage, seeing these changes have fared highly on the list. It makes me very happy to be cycling through my first one.

All across France the rural nature of things has been continual, but within this, each day has seen nuances that only an overloaded wobbly cyclist would care to notice. I have spent whole days passing road side chip vans, hours examining the sadly obsessive garden windmill exhibits or watching the strange behavior of cattle as a cyclist passes them going moooooo (honestly they really do take notice) I have traveled so slowly it is impossible to miss the progression of things.
Tiny forest tracks and miles of canal tow paths have seen me cycle past as I peddle South East towards my first international border. Whole days could be spent without hearing a car. The most frantic things would become were cap raising, bonjour’ing anglers or passing canal boats. How things have changed since my morning commute through rush hour London traffic.
On numerous occasions during this tranquil tome cyclist would shimmy their lycra (spelling?) forms along side and offer route recommendations or simply ask where I am heading.

A nod to another haggle of cyclists

I spent most of an afternoon chuckling to myself about the man I named the “Frothing French man”. Aptly named as he was literally frothing at the mouth and expelling it all over me as we cycled along in duo.

With my failure to decipher his turbo French he went out of his way to show me the cycle path he was enthusing about........I was in car free land once again. I can only assume his frothing was generated from his huge enthusiasm.

Thank you “frothing french man” it was a great afternoons cycling.

It is still very strange to have a continual physical momentum in my life. This continual movement toward the East has me gripped with excitement every morning, none the less I hope it may soon become a little more familiar in its nature. Already there are moments during the mornings rituals that are begining to feel more normal as I attempt to settle into calmer more copable sense of things. (does that make any sense)

Switzerland now approaches..................

It started with the shapes of building roofs, then the windows too (sad observations I know but I have lots of time on my hands). On the second day small rolling hills which I was now exhaustively familiar had started to grow into what now surrounds me, huge vertical walls of forest. I cannot explain now but cycling through this change over the last 2 days has filled me with such excitement. There is a huge relief that the emotional expectations I had before leaving have already been hugely surpassed. BRAVO ! (And a relief after the disappointment regarding the land of champagne!) In general the largest smiles have been the surprises where there has been no expectation what so ever, indeed a lesson well learnt.................a few more below:

1. Don’t look at the top of a hill when peddling, it makes it steeper.

2. Eating 2 Mars bars in one sitting can be enjoyed, guilt free!

3. Bees can fly faster than 15mph.

4. Always put the loo role at the top of the pile inside a pannier.

5. The funny shaped gizmanoids on a Swiss army knife actually have a purpose and the tin opener really works.

6. Carrots taste much nicer when you have carried them 60 miles.

7. Ants have a sixth sense for honey.

On a closing note, everything does seem to be getting easier. The weight shedding process has paused for the moment and the bike is much lighter.

Although the temperature this evening is 22 degrees I have kept wintry warmthness in case the Alps prove to be as chilly as people have warned. Blimey am I really to start my ascent tomorrow morning?

As I look around me at the towering forests I remind myself of the expletives that came forth whilst getting to the top of that little mound known as Biggin Hill...... I am certainly glad of the 2 weeks cycling before reaching the Swiss border. My legs have a spring to them now and the bike is much lighter .................Isn’t it?..........