FNRttC Friday Night Ride to the Coast Newhaven, Dieppe, Paris 22, 23, 24 May
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Andrew Br
Still part of the team !
- Location
- Chorlton Cum Hardy
.
I had decided to wimp out on the character building section of the ride at Gisors and do the 'Voie Verte de la Vallee d'Epte'. I had picked up the leaflet at Gisors a couple of years ago and had been fantasising of doing that and the Valle d'Eure back to Rouen ever since. It was a great ride but this is a warning to anyone who might decide to follow me.
First they have built a massive four lane road around Gisors which has obliterated the original start point. There were a lot of cycling related signs pointing in contradictory directions. But at last I found this pointing down a side road:
It started well with a quiet road and the Epte on the left but note that ex railway bridge:
At the junction there was a right looking like this:
It was labelled 'Avenue Verte - London to Paris'. Given that that I wasn't heading for Paris or London and the end point (Gasny) is almost the exact same distance from London and Paris as the start point (Gisors) it clearly wasn't the cycle route I was looking for. So I continued straight on down a track that very quickly ended in bog. I had to retrace my steps and decided to take Avenue Verte to the next road crossing where I could navigate my own way to Gasny. At that point I was very surprised to see a sign indicating that the Avenue Verte was indeed heading to Gasny 28km away!
Apparently from conversations gleaned with @User & @User13710 on the ferry home - the Avenue de Verte people not being able to follow the railway line (above) that crossed the Epte had put in a dog leg that used part of the Voie de Verte but had removed the old signage and replaced it with the new. I have suffered before with the French propensity to renumber roads at random but this was just plain silly. How hard is it to dual label?
Anyway got to Gasny for a beer or was it? Looked more like Great Malvern to me ...
First they have built a massive four lane road around Gisors which has obliterated the original start point. There were a lot of cycling related signs pointing in contradictory directions. But at last I found this pointing down a side road:
It started well with a quiet road and the Epte on the left but note that ex railway bridge:
At the junction there was a right looking like this:
It was labelled 'Avenue Verte - London to Paris'. Given that that I wasn't heading for Paris or London and the end point (Gasny) is almost the exact same distance from London and Paris as the start point (Gisors) it clearly wasn't the cycle route I was looking for. So I continued straight on down a track that very quickly ended in bog. I had to retrace my steps and decided to take Avenue Verte to the next road crossing where I could navigate my own way to Gasny. At that point I was very surprised to see a sign indicating that the Avenue Verte was indeed heading to Gasny 28km away!
Apparently from conversations gleaned with @User & @User13710 on the ferry home - the Avenue de Verte people not being able to follow the railway line (above) that crossed the Epte had put in a dog leg that used part of the Voie de Verte but had removed the old signage and replaced it with the new. I have suffered before with the French propensity to renumber roads at random but this was just plain silly. How hard is it to dual label?
Anyway got to Gasny for a beer or was it? Looked more like Great Malvern to me ...
Agent Hilda
The Babe
Agent Hilda Ride Report Islington May 2015
We had a difficult week last week not least because the Farage-ists at the top of the road insisted that Clarence mow the meadow we were cultivating. Clearly they don't give a fig about a) Other People That Live In The Street b) Revolutionary Communism or (most importantly) c) The Bees and Saving The Planet For Our Grandchild/Grandchildren (various to come).
So we started the ride in a rather gloomy frame of mind hoping that the world would hold out until we hit Paris and could have a jolly good glass of red.
On arrival at HPC we were met by Rachel who was reading a novel. I rather admire that. She carried a novel all the way to Newhaven. I don't know what it was but I wouldn't carry one page of a feature film script written by Terence Davies from our house to HPC never mind all the way to the coast. And he himself carrier of my stuff wouldn't either.
On the way to Newhaven we saw a skittering fawn, puddles, girls with high heels, Croydon, the back of his legs, Franks Panniers and much much more. I was surprised to see that having become sparrow like I am able to overtake Frank on the hills. Hah! You say, what did Frank have in his Panniers, you say, putting Agent H firmly back in her place. Yes I admit it he was carrying a tent, a saucepan, knives and forks, Delia Smiths Complete Cookery Course, a set of toasting forks, six bottles of Chablis and an Aga Oven.
We arrived in Newhaven and were met by beans eggs and chips and Stephen. Someone who shall remain nameless then skipped off without paying the bill. Luckily I just got bonus'ed up and could fork out the fiver to save the club embarrassment.
We crashed on the ferry drinking only water.
The next 26 miles of the journey was sublime. I reckon I smiled and sang a few songs. The pace was lovely and the weather warm and gorgeous. The people waved at us and I thought about Butter and All Its Delights. We stopped at our café were remembered by the Madame and had creamy cheese toasties. Lorry drivers juggernauted around the mini roundabout and waved at us. Crikey it was like we were The Famous Five!
Dinner, sleep, a wonderful breakfast, a bit of rain later and we were up off and away onto the best part of the ride, the first third to Paris. We saw plenty of wildlife and heard French Skylarks. I applied twice as new shorts were rubbing.
Breakfast no 2 was perfect and the butter lived up to its expectations.
The second third of the ride was slightly damper but I reckon the hills have got shorter. The cream worked (thanks Olaf) and we jollied our way along to a picnic spot in a bus shelter. Rachel and Stephen provided good carbs.
The third third of the ride was grilling. It rained somewhat and water ran down my back. We had punctures. I did two wees in public. The road went on and on and on and on. It took about 90 hours to get to our hotel and I was literally nearly killed by a white vehicle. All I could think was when are we going to get there? When?
Luckily for all there was gin and tonic at the hotel and I knocked one back pronto. With some peanuts.
Then we had lovely dinner in a lovely café and lovely red wine and lovely steak. I took photos which I cannot upload any way but sideways so you will have to see me to share. Olaf made me laugh. Adrian wore the most extraordinary shirt. The Honeymooners got locked out. He was knackered and we left before desert.
We tiptoed back to our room in the damp air.
We slept. Got up. Got a train to Dieppe with a mad cultist and his 14 wives (or some eccentric French walking group). Met Tim for lunch. Sat on a bench together. It was the best sitting on a bench looking at the boats ever.
It was some ride.
It was good to be home
Till the next time
Ever your dearly beloved
Agent H
We had a difficult week last week not least because the Farage-ists at the top of the road insisted that Clarence mow the meadow we were cultivating. Clearly they don't give a fig about a) Other People That Live In The Street b) Revolutionary Communism or (most importantly) c) The Bees and Saving The Planet For Our Grandchild/Grandchildren (various to come).
So we started the ride in a rather gloomy frame of mind hoping that the world would hold out until we hit Paris and could have a jolly good glass of red.
On arrival at HPC we were met by Rachel who was reading a novel. I rather admire that. She carried a novel all the way to Newhaven. I don't know what it was but I wouldn't carry one page of a feature film script written by Terence Davies from our house to HPC never mind all the way to the coast. And he himself carrier of my stuff wouldn't either.
On the way to Newhaven we saw a skittering fawn, puddles, girls with high heels, Croydon, the back of his legs, Franks Panniers and much much more. I was surprised to see that having become sparrow like I am able to overtake Frank on the hills. Hah! You say, what did Frank have in his Panniers, you say, putting Agent H firmly back in her place. Yes I admit it he was carrying a tent, a saucepan, knives and forks, Delia Smiths Complete Cookery Course, a set of toasting forks, six bottles of Chablis and an Aga Oven.
We arrived in Newhaven and were met by beans eggs and chips and Stephen. Someone who shall remain nameless then skipped off without paying the bill. Luckily I just got bonus'ed up and could fork out the fiver to save the club embarrassment.
We crashed on the ferry drinking only water.
The next 26 miles of the journey was sublime. I reckon I smiled and sang a few songs. The pace was lovely and the weather warm and gorgeous. The people waved at us and I thought about Butter and All Its Delights. We stopped at our café were remembered by the Madame and had creamy cheese toasties. Lorry drivers juggernauted around the mini roundabout and waved at us. Crikey it was like we were The Famous Five!
Dinner, sleep, a wonderful breakfast, a bit of rain later and we were up off and away onto the best part of the ride, the first third to Paris. We saw plenty of wildlife and heard French Skylarks. I applied twice as new shorts were rubbing.
Breakfast no 2 was perfect and the butter lived up to its expectations.
The second third of the ride was slightly damper but I reckon the hills have got shorter. The cream worked (thanks Olaf) and we jollied our way along to a picnic spot in a bus shelter. Rachel and Stephen provided good carbs.
The third third of the ride was grilling. It rained somewhat and water ran down my back. We had punctures. I did two wees in public. The road went on and on and on and on. It took about 90 hours to get to our hotel and I was literally nearly killed by a white vehicle. All I could think was when are we going to get there? When?
Luckily for all there was gin and tonic at the hotel and I knocked one back pronto. With some peanuts.
Then we had lovely dinner in a lovely café and lovely red wine and lovely steak. I took photos which I cannot upload any way but sideways so you will have to see me to share. Olaf made me laugh. Adrian wore the most extraordinary shirt. The Honeymooners got locked out. He was knackered and we left before desert.
We tiptoed back to our room in the damp air.
We slept. Got up. Got a train to Dieppe with a mad cultist and his 14 wives (or some eccentric French walking group). Met Tim for lunch. Sat on a bench together. It was the best sitting on a bench looking at the boats ever.
It was some ride.
It was good to be home
Till the next time
Ever your dearly beloved
Agent H
srw
It's a bit more complicated than that...
Well. That was interesting, and not quite the holiday we'd planned. I think by the end we were down to Plan G - and it wasn't entirely a comfortable, well-upholstered seat.
@rvw reports great things about the Newhaven ride - except that she needs more back strength to maintain the low position on her solo bike (or a shorter stem). Her previous solo record is, I think, 40 miles, so 65 or so including the headwinds was some acheivement. Meantime, I was stuck in a scuzzy B&B (actually quite clean and comfortable) with a Co-op sandwich. I discovered after going out in search of food that Newhaven does have a curry house - but everywhere else to eat was a dodgy-looking takeaway or a pub.
Getting out of Dieppe was interesting - for some reason we ignored "toutes directions" and headed for the town centre. After a scenic tour of a housing estate (it's more difficult to turn around in a car than on a bike) we eventually found the road for St-Saens and enjoyed the drive through woodland. And it was fantastic to be able to get on the Brommie.
We followed your route on day 2 in the car, which (after I caught up) let me have a bit of a pootle with the gang and the group of women. That hill out of Gisors in the rain was the undoing of me - it was a tough ride and I certainly wasn't at my best (I think things are improving now...)
After our final rendezvous I suspect you were nearly in Paris before we got out of the Pontoise agglo. We got stuck behind a carnival procession, and eventually were funneled right back the way we'd come. But the Abbaye in St-Saens was a great, quiet base for the night, and we had a pleasant meal in St-Saens' other restaurant (trad French at €19 for 3 courses of €25 for 4). I'm afraid the thought of a night in Paris, even with good company, was just going to be intolerable. It's at times like that that a disposable income and the ability to write off purchases - and a love of fluid plans - comes into its own.
We were back in Guildford by about 10:30 (third off the boat both ways!) and home by mid-morning. Sadly I then had some more work to do...
@rvw reports great things about the Newhaven ride - except that she needs more back strength to maintain the low position on her solo bike (or a shorter stem). Her previous solo record is, I think, 40 miles, so 65 or so including the headwinds was some acheivement. Meantime, I was stuck in a scuzzy B&B (actually quite clean and comfortable) with a Co-op sandwich. I discovered after going out in search of food that Newhaven does have a curry house - but everywhere else to eat was a dodgy-looking takeaway or a pub.
Getting out of Dieppe was interesting - for some reason we ignored "toutes directions" and headed for the town centre. After a scenic tour of a housing estate (it's more difficult to turn around in a car than on a bike) we eventually found the road for St-Saens and enjoyed the drive through woodland. And it was fantastic to be able to get on the Brommie.
We followed your route on day 2 in the car, which (after I caught up) let me have a bit of a pootle with the gang and the group of women. That hill out of Gisors in the rain was the undoing of me - it was a tough ride and I certainly wasn't at my best (I think things are improving now...)
After our final rendezvous I suspect you were nearly in Paris before we got out of the Pontoise agglo. We got stuck behind a carnival procession, and eventually were funneled right back the way we'd come. But the Abbaye in St-Saens was a great, quiet base for the night, and we had a pleasant meal in St-Saens' other restaurant (trad French at €19 for 3 courses of €25 for 4). I'm afraid the thought of a night in Paris, even with good company, was just going to be intolerable. It's at times like that that a disposable income and the ability to write off purchases - and a love of fluid plans - comes into its own.
We were back in Guildford by about 10:30 (third off the boat both ways!) and home by mid-morning. Sadly I then had some more work to do...
U
User10571
Guest
Epic words.
All of them.
U
User10571
Guest
I Know
As @srw said, this was my first long ride on a solo bike in a very long time, and riding the tandem is different in a number of respects! The back problem was the thing which really did for me in the last few miles, but I thoroughly enjoyed the night overall. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to do any riding on the French side, but at least my presence in the team car meant that @srw could get a few miles in.
Resolutions for the future: (a) I will be back! once I've re-trained my back to cope and (b) I will learn how to do hills properly. Thanks to everyone for keeping me going and waiting around when necessary!
Resolutions for the future: (a) I will be back! once I've re-trained my back to cope and (b) I will learn how to do hills properly. Thanks to everyone for keeping me going and waiting around when necessary!
mmmmartin
Random geezer
Might be an idea to invest £60 in a "bike fit" where you have the bike properly sized for you - basically the stem, saddle and bars are tweaked so they are exactly right for you. This needs only a small shift to be made much much better, for instance a couple of years ago I was having knee pain and lifted the saddle by 4 mm and the pain was gone in an instant. Also recently on my expedition bike the saddle was 10mm too low and I was much slower than i was used to, then I lifted it and my speed increased dramatically. My saddles are often lowered to the frame for prepping the bike at an airport for the flight, happens a few times a year, so I have now scraped a ring around the seatpost (using a hacksaw) so I know exactly where the saddle post goes. I am sure there are peeps on here who would recommend a decent shop for a bikefit session.
Getting properly fitted would be a good idea: being long-legged and short-bodied for my height is probably part of the issue, and maybe all it needs is an extra bit of height on the front to make me a little more upright and closer to what I am used to on the tandem. Saddle height I think is OK (no knee problems) and to be honest, the issue with hills is more brain than legs...
With friends like these...There is the more traditional approach (wearing lycra?) :
srw
It's a bit more complicated than that...
As a postscript, our host in St-Saens provided us with the 2011 tourist map of the village in English (sadly I can't find it online). It's a classic of the auto-translate genre. A couple of examples:
La Varenne, river fish excessively, which particularly careful management of its banks gives a special charm. Superb walks. The river begins in Saint-Martin-Osmonville to be confused downstream from Saint-Saens with Eaulne and Bethune before emptying into the sea at Dieppe. Not to be confused with "false river" diversion designed to operate here and there about fifteen mills spread through the valley that central trace the course of the river.
Gloriette looks a dovecote but has never been a shelter for storage of gardening tools. It dates from 1831, and DM monogram is that of its owner at the time.
Rue du Docteur Vassaux: no 27 former resience of Dr. Vassaux, personality and friend of the painter Matisse who goes there several times.
La Varenne, river fish excessively, which particularly careful management of its banks gives a special charm. Superb walks. The river begins in Saint-Martin-Osmonville to be confused downstream from Saint-Saens with Eaulne and Bethune before emptying into the sea at Dieppe. Not to be confused with "false river" diversion designed to operate here and there about fifteen mills spread through the valley that central trace the course of the river.
Gloriette looks a dovecote but has never been a shelter for storage of gardening tools. It dates from 1831, and DM monogram is that of its owner at the time.
Rue du Docteur Vassaux: no 27 former resience of Dr. Vassaux, personality and friend of the painter Matisse who goes there several times.
mmmmartin
Random geezer
Oh dear. I booked the hotels for the recce using google translate, and although that went ok, i recall that i have also forewarned two bistros - by letter as they seem not to do email - of our impending arrival on The Real Thing, using Google translate. Hey ho. It will be interesting to see how that turns out......
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