I recently got back from a weekend cycling around Epernay - the Champagne region in northern France.
The quickest and easiest way there is by train - I'm about 30 minutes from St Pancras. I duly rocked up on Friday with my smallest rackpack filled with not much at all, and my Brompton. I've carried a disassembled - and - bagged carbon bike before, and I was in no rush to repeat the task.
Eurostar was as swift as it usually is, and two-odd hours later I was at Paris Gare du Nord.
Here's the good bit. I needed to get to the Gare de l'Est, a ten minute walk away. Five minutes later, I've ridden there.
Since I had a while to wait for a train to Epernay, I decided a little rehydration was in order.
I then wandered round and had a look at the trains. A distinctly old-fashioned looking loco, next to a TGV.
Suitably refreshed, I found the train, which then pretty much followed the Marne river valley up to Epernay. The Campanile isn't a wonderful hotel, but it was inexpensive, comfortable, and could get me fed and lubricated at 9:30.
And the wardrobes would take my gear. All of it. Including a bike
Saturday was warm with clear blue sky, and a distinct risk of a suntan. Breakfasted and packed, I hit the road. That nights hotel was half a mile down the road, if I turned right.
I turned left.
After a few hundred yards, it became clear that I was following a signed 'touristic route' which makes for simple navigation. Dizy to Avenay to Louvois, all I really had to do was avoid tractors and keep the wheels out of the grape vines.
At Louvois, I peeled off the main road (which wasn't as main as all that) and got onto a little one heading towards Verzy, on the north-east corner of the Montagne de Riems. Halfway along, I came across the Ferme de Vertuelle - a preserved farm. They had some delightful old bikes
and a few old Citroens.
If you're in that part of France, drop in. The beer was nice and cold too. I just wished they'd had a cold drink that wasn't beer.
After a long climb through the woods, I'd gained a lot of altitude for northern France. Little did I know I was about to lose half of it. In one kilometer, descending to Verzy. I can confirm that Brommies are surprisingly stable at 37 mph.
Which is more than I was by this stage. It was hot - very hot. The beer, while welcome at the time, was kicking in, and I hadn't found anywhere for lunch. It was the last weekend of the French summer break, so lots of places were shut. In short, things were not as good as they could be.
Verzy to Verzenay to Mailly. The road went up and down - sharp downs, with hairpin bends at the bottom, then steep, short climbs. Impossible to get a rhythm going, madness to carry any speed through the bends, just climbing, descending, over and over, getting hotter all the while.
By now, I could see the motorway and parallel main road, away across the plain.
Surely they must have shops or restaurants over there?
Indeed they did. Drinking a succession of Oranginas under a tree, I took stock.
It was getting bloody hot.
My suncream was melting, merging with sweat and stinging my eyes.
I was suffering on the climbs. This wasn't so much fun any more.
My original plan of cycling right the way round the Montagne de Reims was quietly abandoned.
I went to Decathlon instead.
Having cooled down a lot in the air-con, I checked the map. I needed a train back to Epernay.
I could go into the centre of Reims for it, or I could get it at Rilly-la-Montagne.
Handy Hint.
Somewhere called Rilly la Montagne is not going to be in the middle of a flat plain.
The clue is very much in the name. This was going to be a hot ride.
My navigation was not helped by some minor alterations that had happened since my map was printed, in the shape of a TGV line and a dirty great new motorway.
After a fair few wrong turns, I got to the train station just in time to miss a train. Fortunately the shop had just opened, so I waited for the next train, armed with cold drinks. On the train, and back to Epernay, then a mile ride to the Logis I'd booked earlier. At least unpacking didn't take long.
That nights meal went down very well. A glass of fizz, a selection of cold meat and salad, steak with leeks, shallots and frites, half-a-dozen local cheeses and a half litre of unspecified red. A desert buffet that positively invited you to have a small bit of each.
40 miles done - my longest ride yet on the Brommie, and far-and-away the hilliest
I slept well that night.
Sunday. Dawn didn't so much break, as drag itself up and then collapse in the corner for a bit.
Cloudy, a bit grey and showery. My plan for today was to go along the Marne valley towards Paris, roughly following the train line that I'd got on Friday. Follow the D1, get the train. Simples.
The vintage on this side of the hill was in full swing.Judging by the smell, the fermentation was doing equally well. Remember the sweetish, sourish, yeasty smell of home brew?
Imagine that on an industrial scale, in every single village.
After 26 k, I'd got to Dormans, and found a brasserie. Food options were a little limited, but the Tartine Savoyard was good.
Cheese, ham and potatoes on toast, salad on the side, and a lot of water. No beer.
Having eaten, I checked the time - 1:00 pm.
My fixed point was being at the Gare du Nord at 8:00 pm - 7 hours away.
I could get the train here, at 1645, or at Chateau Thierry, 25 km down the road, at 1700.
Either got me to Paris with time to spare.
I pedalled onwards. The riding was much easier today - the hills were less steep and less frequent. The scenery gradually changed as I went along - the valley sides were less steep, so there were fewer vines, more arable farming. They'd gone altogether by Chateau Thierry, where my day-dreamy progress was rudely interrupted by a triathlon. I managed to navigate this to find the train station, where I found no trains. The replacement bus would take my bike, and it left in ten minutes. I'd expected to have over two hours to kill. Result!!
Five pm, and I'm back at the Gare de L'Est. 3 hours before I need check in for the Eurostar, so I may as well go for a ride.
I found a large arch that needed a few FNRttC people.
And what I'd love to build if only I had 1500 tonnes of Meccano.
After a swift menu du jour at the Gare du Nord, I settled back in seat 51 on Eurostar, and checked the computer.
85 miles, at an average of 10 mph.
I've done longer weekends, and faster ones.
But not carrying luggage.
And not on my Brompton.
The quickest and easiest way there is by train - I'm about 30 minutes from St Pancras. I duly rocked up on Friday with my smallest rackpack filled with not much at all, and my Brompton. I've carried a disassembled - and - bagged carbon bike before, and I was in no rush to repeat the task.
Eurostar was as swift as it usually is, and two-odd hours later I was at Paris Gare du Nord.
Here's the good bit. I needed to get to the Gare de l'Est, a ten minute walk away. Five minutes later, I've ridden there.
Since I had a while to wait for a train to Epernay, I decided a little rehydration was in order.
I then wandered round and had a look at the trains. A distinctly old-fashioned looking loco, next to a TGV.
Suitably refreshed, I found the train, which then pretty much followed the Marne river valley up to Epernay. The Campanile isn't a wonderful hotel, but it was inexpensive, comfortable, and could get me fed and lubricated at 9:30.
And the wardrobes would take my gear. All of it. Including a bike
Saturday was warm with clear blue sky, and a distinct risk of a suntan. Breakfasted and packed, I hit the road. That nights hotel was half a mile down the road, if I turned right.
I turned left.
After a few hundred yards, it became clear that I was following a signed 'touristic route' which makes for simple navigation. Dizy to Avenay to Louvois, all I really had to do was avoid tractors and keep the wheels out of the grape vines.
At Louvois, I peeled off the main road (which wasn't as main as all that) and got onto a little one heading towards Verzy, on the north-east corner of the Montagne de Riems. Halfway along, I came across the Ferme de Vertuelle - a preserved farm. They had some delightful old bikes
and a few old Citroens.
If you're in that part of France, drop in. The beer was nice and cold too. I just wished they'd had a cold drink that wasn't beer.
After a long climb through the woods, I'd gained a lot of altitude for northern France. Little did I know I was about to lose half of it. In one kilometer, descending to Verzy. I can confirm that Brommies are surprisingly stable at 37 mph.
Which is more than I was by this stage. It was hot - very hot. The beer, while welcome at the time, was kicking in, and I hadn't found anywhere for lunch. It was the last weekend of the French summer break, so lots of places were shut. In short, things were not as good as they could be.
Verzy to Verzenay to Mailly. The road went up and down - sharp downs, with hairpin bends at the bottom, then steep, short climbs. Impossible to get a rhythm going, madness to carry any speed through the bends, just climbing, descending, over and over, getting hotter all the while.
By now, I could see the motorway and parallel main road, away across the plain.
Surely they must have shops or restaurants over there?
Indeed they did. Drinking a succession of Oranginas under a tree, I took stock.
It was getting bloody hot.
My suncream was melting, merging with sweat and stinging my eyes.
I was suffering on the climbs. This wasn't so much fun any more.
My original plan of cycling right the way round the Montagne de Reims was quietly abandoned.
I went to Decathlon instead.
Having cooled down a lot in the air-con, I checked the map. I needed a train back to Epernay.
I could go into the centre of Reims for it, or I could get it at Rilly-la-Montagne.
Handy Hint.
Somewhere called Rilly la Montagne is not going to be in the middle of a flat plain.
The clue is very much in the name. This was going to be a hot ride.
My navigation was not helped by some minor alterations that had happened since my map was printed, in the shape of a TGV line and a dirty great new motorway.
After a fair few wrong turns, I got to the train station just in time to miss a train. Fortunately the shop had just opened, so I waited for the next train, armed with cold drinks. On the train, and back to Epernay, then a mile ride to the Logis I'd booked earlier. At least unpacking didn't take long.
That nights meal went down very well. A glass of fizz, a selection of cold meat and salad, steak with leeks, shallots and frites, half-a-dozen local cheeses and a half litre of unspecified red. A desert buffet that positively invited you to have a small bit of each.
40 miles done - my longest ride yet on the Brommie, and far-and-away the hilliest
I slept well that night.
Sunday. Dawn didn't so much break, as drag itself up and then collapse in the corner for a bit.
Cloudy, a bit grey and showery. My plan for today was to go along the Marne valley towards Paris, roughly following the train line that I'd got on Friday. Follow the D1, get the train. Simples.
The vintage on this side of the hill was in full swing.Judging by the smell, the fermentation was doing equally well. Remember the sweetish, sourish, yeasty smell of home brew?
Imagine that on an industrial scale, in every single village.
After 26 k, I'd got to Dormans, and found a brasserie. Food options were a little limited, but the Tartine Savoyard was good.
Cheese, ham and potatoes on toast, salad on the side, and a lot of water. No beer.
Having eaten, I checked the time - 1:00 pm.
My fixed point was being at the Gare du Nord at 8:00 pm - 7 hours away.
I could get the train here, at 1645, or at Chateau Thierry, 25 km down the road, at 1700.
Either got me to Paris with time to spare.
I pedalled onwards. The riding was much easier today - the hills were less steep and less frequent. The scenery gradually changed as I went along - the valley sides were less steep, so there were fewer vines, more arable farming. They'd gone altogether by Chateau Thierry, where my day-dreamy progress was rudely interrupted by a triathlon. I managed to navigate this to find the train station, where I found no trains. The replacement bus would take my bike, and it left in ten minutes. I'd expected to have over two hours to kill. Result!!
Five pm, and I'm back at the Gare de L'Est. 3 hours before I need check in for the Eurostar, so I may as well go for a ride.
I found a large arch that needed a few FNRttC people.
And what I'd love to build if only I had 1500 tonnes of Meccano.
After a swift menu du jour at the Gare du Nord, I settled back in seat 51 on Eurostar, and checked the computer.
85 miles, at an average of 10 mph.
I've done longer weekends, and faster ones.
But not carrying luggage.
And not on my Brompton.