events

Souvigny was a lovely little place.  Cobbled streets, nice shops and the group of people I asked about a good place to eat were very friendly and funny.  We had the usual chat about recumbent bikes, a topic about which I was becoming increasingly fluent in french.

By the way, a traveller's tip, the best way to find a restaurant is firstly ask a woman, less influenced than a man by the attractiveness of the waitress.  Secondly you need someone who is a little portly, they must like food after all.  Thirdly they must be reasonably well dressed, but not too much so, they need to be able to afford to eat out but not be so well off they're into a whole other level of gastronomic indulgence.

So, the place they recommended was perfect.  The owner was very friendly, they let me put the bike around the back.  The owner/chef was a tattoed, pierced, goateed, fellow with a Harley Davison teeshirt.  Not quite what you might expect from the restaurant.  Which, as you can see from the photo was very nicely decorated, with little nicknacks around the place and freshly cut flowers on the tables.

My fellow diners largely wore florescent clothing, workmen having a rest from digging.  Having kir, or blanc cassis as they also called it, as an aperitif before eating, as I did, the dish of the day: gesiers with salad, cauliflower cheese and pork loin, fruits of the forest tart with light crispy pastry and and a ppr.  18€.  Just the kind of place and just the kind of thing workmen in England have for lunch. 

My powermonkey had stopped charging my phone and so it was another day with few photos.  I decided to take a detour to St Pourçain to try to buy a charger from the Orange shop that the owner of the restaurant had said was there.

Pity about the phone/camera since it meant I saw loads of good things and have no photo.  A fox for instance, which stepped out of the trees as I was going through a deep dark forest.  He turned, looked at me for an instant and bounded away.

Pity about the rain which, if anything, got heavier.  Pity I couldn't photograph, or even see that well, the presumably wonderful view of the river you get at Monétay sur Allier and the sweeping bends that take you down to it.  I actually stopped at the auberge there thinking I'd get a room and get warm and dry but it was closed and not due to open 'til 6.00 and since it was only 3.30 and I was too cold to stand still I carried on.  Finally made it to St Pourçain just as it stopped raining!

Got the tent up, the powermonkey on to charge and explored the town.  Bought a charger for my phone and swapped the powermonkey for the phone at the campsite reception so it could get charged too. 

Ate cured ham and bread for me tea and washed my undies, a little late, ready for the morrow.

Thurs 14th July. St Pourçain to Billom: 83km, avg 15.7km/hr, max 43.2km/hr, 5¼hrs riding 7½hrs total

This was the kind of thing that faced me every morning in France.  Life is tough: half a baguette, of course but then should it be pain aux amandes, flan, or ...

It was a particularly slow start, took an hour and left at 7.15am.  I put everything away in the wrong place and in the wrong order.  Nonetheless it was a sunny start, though my tent was soaked with both rain from the previous night and dew, relevant because it adds a few kilos to the weight.

Sun and quiet roads, in other words back to normal.  This was a flat long valley which would continue, though getting a little busier, all the way to Vichy.  But this first part was very pleasant.