We arrived in the Aquitaine region, and back into a big city — Bordeaux — which always means a jarring shift after days or weeks riding through fields and countryside.
The noise, the crowds, the traffic, the air pollution, the construction racket, every centimetre of ground paved over — it always overwhelms us after time in the open. We'd gone from waking up to birdsong and the slow warmth of the sun on the tent fabric, to being jolted out of bed by building works next door.
Still, returning to civilisation has its compensations. In Bordeaux we rested for a couple of days, got a load of laundry done — well overdue — and had hot showers in the mornings.
We locked up the bikes and enjoyed the company of a young couple who introduced us to some of the finer points of French food — homemade foie gras, fresh oysters with lemon juice, wines from their family's vineyards.
Flore and Hadelin had cycled through Scotland the previous summer on a route quite similar to ours, which brought back good memories of the Highland scenery for all of us.
From Bordeaux to the coast by bike
We left Bordeaux heading for the coast where, in our innocence, we decided to take forest tracks to escape the dull main roads. Once again we found those tracks completely waterlogged, and spent a long time detouring around them, unable to push our loaded bikes through the mud and wet sand.
It was arriving in the Landes that we discovered the dunes of the French Atlantic coast — gorgeous sandy hills stretching all the way along the shoreline — along with excellent cycle routes that, this time, were actually dry and rideable.
Traditional dancing in the Landes
The cycle route known as La Vélodyssée is part of the EuroVelo network, and it's an absolute pleasure to ride. You glide through vast pine forests on a perfectly surfaced cycle path, leaving the roads and traffic completely behind.
Our most memorable Warmshowers experience happened along this stretch. An older couple took us in very warmly, but informed us that we were going to a dance with them.
Good guests don't refuse, so we agreed. The problem came when, after a brutal day in the saddle — up and over the dunes into a headwind — we arrived at their house with 10 minutes to shower and get ready for an intense night of dancing.
We hadn't accounted for the hour-and-a-bit drive to the village where the dance was held, or for the intensive crash course in traditional dances we were put through before being expected to perform until the early hours — no excuses accepted. Every time we tried to sit down for a few minutes' rest, someone would be over within seconds dragging us back onto the dance floor.
It was a curious and entertaining experience — but we ended up completely demolished. Ilze fell asleep in the car on the way back to our hosts' place. We had to be back on the bikes the following morning, in the rain, running on empty.
