We were 5 nights in Perpignan and 6 days in which we didn’t push a pedal in anger. But we were back on the bikes today, well new bikes anyway.
I have enjoyed being in France to test out my long forgotten high school French skills. Five years of studying French should not go to waste, unlike algebra, trigonometry and chemistry. My attempts at speaking French have been met by people variously launching into English, speaking French at unintelligible speeds and laughing. The highlight was undoubtedly when I went to the French police station to report the theft of our bicycles and managed to bumble my way through the interview. Although, it may not have been such a highlight for the patient gendarme who interviewed me. The lowlight was when the hotel staff were speaking French to me then, having heard me murder their beautiful language for days on end, turned to Cassy and started speaking French to her. As if she is the French speaking one. We had only been staying there five days.
Perpignan is a beautiful old town dotted with castles and churches and bisected by a canal. The castles are always closed. However, after our two day planned visit with Cassy’s sister over the weekend, we began to yearn for the road again, or more accurately the cycle path. We were held up by the bicycle shop being closed on Monday and then waiting for the replacement trailer hitches for our bikes to arrive by Express Post. By the fifth day in town having seen the sites and eaten at all the good restaurants we were ready to go. Conspiracy theories about the bike theft began flying around the hotel room. Was it because the bikes were German that they were stolen in France? Did I “lose” them so I could go bike shopping again? Did Cassy make arrangements with the Perpignan underworld so that she could buy a black bike? The truth will never be known.
When we bought our trailers I first interacted with my Dutch friend Peter Blaansjar at Radical Designs because we had trouble completing the payment transaction. We formed a special bond – both being Blanchard’s of a sort. Well he is now my BFF after receiving my distress email highlighting our urgent need for replacement trailer hitches and sending out the replacements before we had paid for them. Good man!
The trailer hitches arrived this morning and we raced them over to the bicycle shop to be fitted to the bikes we had chosen yesterday. Then it was the back to the hotel to pack and check out. Then back to the bike shop to pay for and collect our new bikes. Then back to the hotel with our bikes to collect our trailers. And then back to the bike shop twice to fix minor glitches - but then we were on the road.
It was not far from Perpignan to the beach and we were on bike paths and trails most of the way. The hardest part was finding the way out of Perpignan with its winding, backtracking streets. The beach cycling was lovely as usual and it was not long before we were cruising the beaches looking for a campsite. We found one at Port Leucate about 6pm after 40km in the saddle of our new bikes. Cassy is quite chuffed with her new black steed, I like the feel of my bike and we both love the fabulous seats which are far more comfortable than our old ones.
I have enjoyed being in France to test out my long forgotten high school French skills. Five years of studying French should not go to waste, unlike algebra, trigonometry and chemistry. My attempts at speaking French have been met by people variously launching into English, speaking French at unintelligible speeds and laughing. The highlight was undoubtedly when I went to the French police station to report the theft of our bicycles and managed to bumble my way through the interview. Although, it may not have been such a highlight for the patient gendarme who interviewed me. The lowlight was when the hotel staff were speaking French to me then, having heard me murder their beautiful language for days on end, turned to Cassy and started speaking French to her. As if she is the French speaking one. We had only been staying there five days.
Perpignan is a beautiful old town dotted with castles and churches and bisected by a canal. The castles are always closed. However, after our two day planned visit with Cassy’s sister over the weekend, we began to yearn for the road again, or more accurately the cycle path. We were held up by the bicycle shop being closed on Monday and then waiting for the replacement trailer hitches for our bikes to arrive by Express Post. By the fifth day in town having seen the sites and eaten at all the good restaurants we were ready to go. Conspiracy theories about the bike theft began flying around the hotel room. Was it because the bikes were German that they were stolen in France? Did I “lose” them so I could go bike shopping again? Did Cassy make arrangements with the Perpignan underworld so that she could buy a black bike? The truth will never be known.
When we bought our trailers I first interacted with my Dutch friend Peter Blaansjar at Radical Designs because we had trouble completing the payment transaction. We formed a special bond – both being Blanchard’s of a sort. Well he is now my BFF after receiving my distress email highlighting our urgent need for replacement trailer hitches and sending out the replacements before we had paid for them. Good man!
The trailer hitches arrived this morning and we raced them over to the bicycle shop to be fitted to the bikes we had chosen yesterday. Then it was the back to the hotel to pack and check out. Then back to the bike shop to pay for and collect our new bikes. Then back to the hotel with our bikes to collect our trailers. And then back to the bike shop twice to fix minor glitches - but then we were on the road.
It was not far from Perpignan to the beach and we were on bike paths and trails most of the way. The hardest part was finding the way out of Perpignan with its winding, backtracking streets. The beach cycling was lovely as usual and it was not long before we were cruising the beaches looking for a campsite. We found one at Port Leucate about 6pm after 40km in the saddle of our new bikes. Cassy is quite chuffed with her new black steed, I like the feel of my bike and we both love the fabulous seats which are far more comfortable than our old ones.
