Day 4 Biking: There Will Be Weather

Wednesday, May 8
Day 4: 35 km


7:20 am

A small motor boat heads out for a day of fishing. A barge piled with coal slips downstream. The Rhone is still a river of commerce. Our view at breakfast is the wide river and a treed shore, the ubiquitous white vans going by on a road opposite. A heron flies lower over the water, and some ducks. I don’t usually see Europe from this perspective.

Rhône freighter

3:50 pm

Back to the barge early today, and now we are underway, moving from Vallabrègues to Aramon, a little upstream and across the Rhone, positioning us for a ride to the Pont du Gard tomorrow. I’m tired.

Learned more about my fellow passengers last night, as we went around the circle and gave our names, ages, and where we were from. Some people shared stories and experiences. I hate talking about myself. Anyhow, our birthdates range from 1938 to 1978, quite an impressive span. We are from a wide variety of backgrounds, with the common ground being cycling. I am one of two or three on board who wouldn’t call themselves a cyclist. It’s a world I didn’t know existed, really.

Today’s riding included some climbing again, not mentioned on the itinerary, though not nearly as much as yesterday. We stopped to catch our breath (I speak for myself) at a little mill.

Le Moulin de Bretoule

Today it rained. Not a lot, but cloud and cold made it less than perfect for stopping off at the scheduled highlights. We visited the Abbaye Saint-Michel de Frigolet, famous for its liqueur, and huddled on a bench there to eat our baguette lunches.

Notre-Dame Basilica at Frigolet Abbey

On our final stop, a guide showed us the crumbled château in the riverside town of Boulbon, an historic monument. The highlight for me was the guide’s stories, told in beautifully slow, clear French that even I could understand before Carlos translated. We met the owner of the castle, mortaring some stairs as part of what looks to be a lifelong project, restoring this rubble to something like its former glory.

The chateau above Boulbon

Boulbon below the chateau

Our expressive local guide

Once back at the Caprice, the rain gained gusto, dumping buckets on the boat. We felt lucky about our timing. The chef had prepared a huge pot of mulled wine. We felt especially lucky.

At the end of a daily ride, people dash for the food and drink, and sit around in their sweaty best, chatting about the ride. Then they disperse to shower and change. Back up in the lounge, we disappear behind our devices. Some of us blog, others, who knows what. But it’s quiet; we’re tired and hungry. The wine appears, bottles we’ve claimed and stashed in the fridge. We are contented in our common space.