Flow Vélo 8 : One Hundred?

La Flow Vélo from St. Simeux to Chez Maillet (around Angoulême)

The last few days of our holidays came all too quickly. We’d reserved them for exciting activities like painting our peeling window shutters. But after two weeks of trekking up 3000-metre peaks, it would have been a waste of our hard-earned fitness to stay at home. Far better to finish our holidays in style.

Without further ado I pulled out all the equipment I’d packed away and we set off to complete the gap in our exploration of the Flow Vélo upstream of Cognac: the urban part around Angoulême. There was no need to catch a train to get to Saint-Simeux, the last point we’d reached back in July. We were fit. We would cycle from home and not stop until we’d tasted the beer from the Rainette micro-brewery in Chazelles – which was closed last time we passed by.

I reckoned it was a 70km ride: 40km to Angoulême and about 30 from there to Chazelles. We could do it in a day and sleep at the campsite in Chazelles. Then on Day 2 we could do a day trip to discover the Scandibérique cycleway north of the Flow Vélo, and on Day 3 we’d return home. It would be a gentle finish to this year’s sporty holidays.

We started at 8:30am on a Saturday and sped along the riverside track from Cognac to Saint-Simeux, a distance of 36km.

This is the most picturesque part of the Flow Vélo for me. We passed the Jarnac castles, an idyllic bathing spot near Bassac (see the photo opposite), the pretty hamlet of Juac, the Romanesque bridge at Angeac-Charente and then followed the railway line to the outdoor recreational park in Châteauneuf.

You’ll find the details of this section in parts 4 and 7 of my Flow Vélo posts.

The village of Saint-Simeux is 4km further along the track from Châteauneuf. Last time we were here I’d seen signs to a campsite handily close to the Pub Gabariers (which holds regular rock concerts) and wanted to check it out. So we ignored the Flow Vélo signs telling us to cross the bridge and instead followed the track towards the Mosnac lock, 1km further along the left bank of the River Charente. We had a lovely view of Saint-Simeux from here.

We found the Nomade campsite (Tel: 06 02 30 17 48) – which is basically a garden with a bar, where you can pitch your tent. There’s also a sign to say that the owner can repair your bicycle. Nobody was there when we passed. When we asked around, we heard it costs 5€ a night but that there are no facilities (toilets, shower).

A little further along the track we found a site called the Géoferme. This new establishment couples an educational farm with a food truck serving organic food. Unfortunately, we were too early for a meal.

The Flow Vélo from Saint-Simeux to Sireuil is a 7km stretch of road, which I didn’t find particularly interesting. Sireuil is a long village (with a bakery and shop) and at the far end is the Nizour campsite, where we stayed on our cycling trip back in 2019.

Just after the campsite is the Sireuil bridge and quay, where the Flow Vélo returns to the riverbank. There’s a bar (Le Cabanon), public toilets and washing machines as well as a bread dispenser. And this sculpture.

When we cycyled to Angoulême in 2019 there was a stretch of rough ground after Sireuil: a nightmare with our makeshift trailer. I’m delighted to report that this is now a beautifully smooth track.

Our next stop was one I’d eagerly anticipated: in the village of Trois Palis, the chocolate-maker Letuffe has its workshop and boutique. They sell a whole range of products, from chocolate to teapots, including artisanal ice-creams. Guess what I bought?

It’s easy to miss this place. When you arrive at the medieval church, go straight on instead of turning right into the Rue Ancienne d’Angoulême. The boutique is about 100m on your left.

After passing under the railway line, we arrived at the Fleurac lock, where there’s a little snack bar with a big garden – and a friendly goat called Belle. Having done 54km, it was time for a break so we had lunch and a siesta on the island beside the lock.

Fleurac marks the start of an older cycleway – La Coulée Verte – that takes you along the river and through Angoulême to the lake at St Yrieix. As you can see in this photo, it’s a shady path, one of our favourite parts of the Flow Vélo.

At Fléac, we crossed a road and passed a guinguette where you can hire canoes. This is definitely the stretch for taking breaks, because a little further on you’ll find another snack bar, La Coulée Douce, at the Thouérat lock. This one is notable for its inflatable furniture in the garden.

With 61km on the clock, we passed under the Angoulême ring road, and a couple of kilometres later we arrived at St Cybard, where the Flow Vélo takes a boardwalk under a bridge (I advise you to dismount here and walk for 50 metres).

Just after this we arrived at the Chais Magelis, home to the Comics Museum. There are toilets in the entrance here and food trucks on the esplanade.

By now, I was beginning to realise that my estimate of a 70km ride to Chazelles was a little optimistic. It’s only 44km from Cognac to Angoulême… by road. Following the loops in the river makes the route a lot longer. However, we felt fit and only had 3 days before returning to work, so we decided to push on.

The Flow Vélo route around Greater Angoulême was a true delight. It takes you past the Houmeau port, where you have a great view of the town (I took this photo on the return trip, hence the dark sky).

After l’Houmeau, the Flow Vélo leaves the Coulée Verte before arriving at the lake. From here, we cycled along quiet streets, little alleys and riverside parks for a distance of 20km: from Gond-Pontouvre, past the Roffit cemetery (stop here for water AND toilets); around the Isle d’Espagnace industrial estate (where we got a little lost but had a great chat with a couple on a tandem); through Ruelle-sur-Touvre and Magnac-sur-Touvre, where we joined the beautiful Touvre river (I fell in love with this waterway during our cycling trip in 2019), and finally to the famous Touvre Source.

It’s worth stopping to visit the Touvre source, which is the second biggest source in France. There are actually four sources in the same area, of which the most recent appeared in 1755 after an earthquake in Lisbon. Although it’s only 12km long, this amazing little river doubles the current in the River Charente. There’s also a great legend about how the source appeared – a mix between Rapunzel and Romeo & Juliet.

It’s worth stopping to rest at the Touvre source because there’s a nasty surprise awaiting you afterwards. Until now, the route had been flat, with a few little slopes to cross bridges. But the two-kilometre-long hill up to the Bois-Blanc forest was a shock, especially with 80km on the clock. We’d never cycled so far in one day – and our bikes were loaded with camping equipment.

Luckily, from the top of the hill, the Flow Vélo continued downhill all the way to Brouterie, where it joined the former railway, the Coulée d’Oc. This tarmacked cycleway – which includes an exciting tunnel passage where you’re completely in the dark – took us past Chez Maillet and along the final 15km of our ride to Chazelles. I’ve detailed the section from Chez Maillet to Nontron in Part 6 of my Flow Vélo posts.

It was 6:30pm when we arrived in Chazelles, with 93km on the clock. We’d achieved our objective but we were too tired to drink a beer.

That’s a joke. Of course we weren’t too tired for beer!

We headed straight for the Rainette brewery, housed in a former mill, and collapsed at a table with our blonde and blanche beers. The brewery is only open from Wednesdays to Saturdays, 4-9pm, so we had to make the most of this unique opportunity to try the beer – which was delicious. I was aghast to see that the pretty Bandiat river had completely dried up.

After refreshments and buying food for dinner from the local shops in Chazelles, we trundled the 1.5km from the village to Le Buron campsite. I’d booked a pitch for the night and was impressed by the owner’s consideration on the phone as he warned me that a group had booked and that there may be queues for the showers.

The campsite is beautiful, spacious parkland. William, the owner, is friendly and the ambiance is one of the true camping spirit, rather than a commercial venture.

There are no individual pitches, just different areas of the huge park. He provides personal tables and chairs for each camper; the shower block is small but clean and airy; and there’s an undercover area with a big table so it’s easy to meet other campers.

As a bonus, there weren’t even any moquitoes.

At 12€ per person, it’s not too expensive, given the service and the quality of the setting. I loved it.

Due to a night filled with songs emanating from the other side of the campsite, where a women’s rugby team were having an annual reunion, we were tired the next morning. But the whole reason for coming here was to discover the Scandibérique cycleway that heads north from the village of Marthon, a little further along the Flow Vélo.

I won’t bother you with details here. Suffice to say that we cycled 65km up and down the Dordogne hills, to Montbron, Eymouthiers, Chambon and the gorgeous little village of Ecuras. I didn’t much like the Scandibérique route, which took bigger roads than the lanes we prefer. We finished by choosing our own route for the return to Chazelles.

The next day, we packed up our belongings and headed home.

My husband was determined to hit the 100km mark. Was this why he suggested a detour to visit the centre of Angoulême?

In any case, we huffed and puffed up the route suggested in my Flow Vélo guide, and reached the top of the hill on which Angoulême’s historic centre is perched. It was a bank holiday and there was very little traffic. I was actually delighted to idle around the streets on my bike, especially as it meant we were able to admire the plethora of street art.

Angoulême is famous for its comics festival, and much of the street art was done by famous artists. I must do the tourist office’s guided visit of the murals one of these days.

My favourite illustration was a life-size comic strip trompe-l’oeil painted on a long wall. I’ve included it below, in the form of a slideshow, with a translation below each image. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

• 

• 

• 

  “So? Can you see anything?”

• 

  “Yes… Look!”

• 

  “Hmm… it’s what I feared.” “What? Another interior world?”

• 

  “Worse than that! It’s reality.”

• 

The detour around Angoulême, when added to a couple more small detours on our return journey, took us to 99.5km upon our arrival home. But we were too tired to cycle around the village to add the last 500 metres necessary to take us to one hundred.

And that’s not a joke!

Exhausted after our 260km trip over 3 days, we collapsed on our sofa and let our daughters feed us – and serve us a well deserved beer. We were in perfect shape to start work the next day!

Thank you for reading this long blog post. I hope it hasn’t exhausted you as much as the trip exhausted me! Perhaps we’ll reach 100 km next time.

Flow Vélo 7 : Thank God for Cemeteries

La Flow Vélo from Bassac to St. Simeux

Our forays along the Flow Vélo cycleway during the spring made cycling seem such a natural form of transport that we decided to go further during our summer holidays.

The ideal opportunity came when a friend invited us to a weekend party at his new home near Niort.

We checked the map: Niort was only 70km away.

Given our hardened buttocks and vast experience of cycling, we decided to go there by bike.

I won’t detail the trip, since it didn’t take us along the Flow Vélo – instead, we drew a line from A to B on our map and then deviated east and west, following our compasses (which didn’t always agree with each other – but that’s another story) along lanes and tracks. We felt as if we were in a different region and it was always a shock to see signposts bearing familiar names.

So many places caught our attention that we ended up doing 120km to get to our destination. We cycled through the woods around St Bris des Bois; followed the Boutonne Valley bike route; and discovered the wonderful village of Dampierre-sur-Boutonne with its friendly campsite, the village bar and the amazing (new) boutique run by 25 local artists.

After a couple of days’ rest at home (i.e. washing clothes, treating wounds and adjusting equipment), we set off again, this time to discover the section of the Scandibérique cycleway south of the River Charente. To get there, we cycled the Flow Vélo from Cognac to Saint-Simeux, a part of which I will detail below.

We left the Flow Vélo at Châteauneuf and followed the Scandibérique signs southwards, which took us to Barbezieux and along La Galope Chopine cycleway to Baignes (where we camped) and which continues to Clérac. From Bagines, which has a fantastic Moroccan restaurant (L’Arganier), we cycled along one of the nine circuits of the South Charente to discover the woody landscapes around Oriolles, Boisbreteau, Guizengard and Chevanceaux. The guide for these circuits is available at the local tourist offices / Baignes campsite.

It was hot during our trips: 40°C one day and above 30°C all the time. But I didn’t suffer from the heat at all. Why not? For two reasons.

Firstly, because I cycled with my knickers on my head.

Don’t laugh. And don’t expect a photo. The reason I stooped to such indelicacy was because my helmet has aeration slots in it, which expose my head to sunstroke. By lining my helmet with my knickers (clean ones, I hastily assure you) – and combined with the second major discovery we made, I was able to keep cool.

The second discovery was one that all cyclists and walkers in France should be told.

We only had a limited supply of water and soon ran out. Luckily, we arrived at a village before the bottles were completely empty and stopped at the first house. Just as I was taking off my knickers (the ones on my head) in preparation to knock at the door and ask for a refill, my husband had an idea.

Opposite the house was the village cemetery. Inside cemeteries, the graves are decorated by colourful plants. The plants need water. Bingo! Yes, you’ll find that every cemetery in France has a tap. As long as the tap doesn’t have a sign saying ‘Eau non-potable’ (water unfit for drinking) you can be sure that it’s a safe supply. From this point onwards, we stopped in every cemetery, filled up our bottles and doused ourselves (and my knickers) with cold water.

Water is also available in public toilets, which are often near the village church, and sometimes there’s an outdoor tap near the mairie. At riverside ports, there are water taps in the electricity pillars designed for boats to hook up to.

Enough about our other cycling trips and back to the Flow Vélo.

Earlier in the year, we stopped our downstream Flow Vélo exploration at the Pont de Vinade near Bassac. Today, I’m going to tell you a little about the next section, from Bassac to Châteauneuf and onto Saint-Simeux.

At the Pont de Vinade, the Flow Vélo continues on the north side of the river. This isn’t marked on the guide, because it’s a new section. We followed the signs along tracks through woods and maize plantations until we reached the next bridge, the Pont de Juac.

This is a good stopping point, as it has a bicycle pump, tables and benches. You can also take a trip along the river on a gabarre, one of the traditional boats used to transport cognac barrels. A little further east from Juac is the village of Saint-Simon, where you’ll find a museum all about gabarres.

At Juac, we met slam artist Max, a Belgian traveller cycling his non-electric recumbent bicycle and caravan across Europe.

He gave us a guided tour of his home and told us how he’s preparing a nomad slam album with the musicians he meets along his trip.

The Flow Vélo changes to the southern riverbank at Juac. Contrary to the guide’s route along roads, the track now continues along the river. Again, we found this a pleasant ride.

The only time we were on roads were when we crossed the little village of Angeac-Charente, famous for its dinosaur remains. I love this bridge, the Pont d’Angeac.

Then we were back on riverside track all the way (8km) to the small town of Châteauneuf-sur-Charente.

Châteauneuf is a good place to stop. There’s a campsite in the nearby village of Chassors, which is indicated from the cycleway. And you can also bivouac at the leisure area (Le Bain des Dames) beside the river. We paused here for an ice-cream and then a local beer while we considered camping for the night.

Châteauneuf has all the amenities you could need, including a tourist office and market. There’s even a train station, so you can catch a train home if you’re tired. We met a Parisian family here, who had caught the train to Angoulême and were cycling the Flow Vélo before catching a train home from Rochefort. This kind of holiday is becoming more and more popular – to the extent that we discussed opening a campsite/bicycle repair workshop/bar somewhere along the Flow Vélo.

There’s just one warning at Châteauneuf: look carefully at the cycleway signs! The ‘Tour de la Charente‘ signs look very similar to the Flow Vélo ones.

Scandibérique and Tour de la Charente signs

Flow Vélo signs

From Châteauneuf, the Flow Vélo continues past the leisure area and onto Saint-Simeux. This village is known by British ex-pats because of its pub, called the Pub Gabariers and run by a Brit. Here, you can drink Guinness, play Pétanque and eat fish & chips. You can no longer camp on the property, but I did see a campsite sign on the far side of the bridge. I didn’t check it out, so I’m not sure what it’s like.

The last time we cycled in this area, we took a short cut via the D22 from Vibrac to St.Simeux. This avoids the Châteauneuf loop of the river but it means cycling up a long hill onto a plateau and then back down a steep hill through the village of St. Simeux. In our desperation to reach our pints of Guinness, I’m not sure we made the right choice!

The sun is still shining and our bicycles are raring to go – having been abandoned while we went trekking in the Pyrenees mountains for a couple of weeks.

I’m eager to get back on my saddle. Will we continue east or head west from St. Savinien to the sea in the next episode of our Flow Vélo exploration?

Whatever we decide, I’ll keep you updated.

Flow Vélo 6: Close to Catastrophe

La Flow Vélo from Chez Maillet (near Pranzac) to Nontron :

At Pentecost – the Platinum Jubilee weekend – we decided to take our chances with the stormy weather and give our bikes a night away from home. As this meant 2 days of cycling instead of one, we opted to explore east of Angoulême, where the Flow Vélo cycle route deserts the River Charente and heads into the Dordogne along the minor River Bandiat.

I haven’t been itinerant cycling for years (my husband has never done it), so I spent a while making lists and digging out the equipment we’d need.

It was important for us to be comfortable at night. In past itinerant cycling trips I used a light camping mat. This time, we took our ultimate comfort self-inflating mats, which are as cushy as our bed at home. Honestly! The disadvantage is their bulkiness. Nevertheless, my husband wasn’t deterred by the huge roll on the back of his bike.

Other than the mattresses, our equipment was pretty much minimal. One of our best buys were waterproof canoe bags. Not only do they protect our sleeping bags, mattresses and tent from rain (sleet, snow, hailstones…), they also safeguard them from trailing brambles.

Before leaving, we loaded our bikes and then, for fun, weighed them. The result was a shock: me & my bike came in at 94kg while my husband and his bike weighed 100kg. Worried that they’d be too heavy to move, we took them for a spin around our home. I was relieved to find that I could still pedal up a hill. In fact, I hardly noticed the extra weight. Not during the 2km test ride.

In a past cycling trip we had pedalled as far as Touvre, so on Sunday morning we started a few kilometres east of Touvre, where the Flow Vélo crosses the D699 at Chez Maillet. There is a small car park here, hidden behind the houses in Rue des Coquelicots. A couple of other cars with bike carriers were already parked there. It seemed an ideal place for our car to spend the night.

Off we set, along a flat, tarmac section of the Flow Vélo known as the Coulée d’Oc. This is a former railway line and runs south-east along the River Bandiat valley.

The Coulée d’Oc made for pleasant cycling through a holloway. The countryside is wilder here than along the sections further downstream of the Flow Vélo. At the numerous level crossings, the hedges open to give views of green forests and golden cornfields, maize and sunflower plantations. We were also treated to the sweet (?) aroma of cattle.

After about 8km, we arrived at La Gare (the station), close to the village of Chazelles.

Here, we stopped to examine this wooden gantry. Installed in 1896, it was used until 1960 to transport stone. Opposite the gantry is the Association G’Art building: a B&B, social café and water point. There’s also a car park so it’s a good starting point for a bike ride.

The Flow Vélo continued but we left it at the level crossing to visit the village of Chazelles, less than a kilometre away. It’s a pity that we cycle on Sundays and bank holidays, because there are several interesting places to see here.

Firstly, we discovered a craft brewery called La Rainette, housed in a mill. It opens at weekends and boasts a cute bar beside the river.

We were really disappointed that we couldn’t taste their beer. But it did give us an idea for a future cycling trip… Think Cognac (Jack Beer), Foussignac (La Goule), Angoulême (La Débauche), Chazelles (La Rainette), Nontron (La Paluche). Oh, what a coincidence: those places all lie along the Flow Vélo!

Chazelles also has a craft soap-maker and a wooden toy maker, as well as a few shops and some toilets beside the Mediathèque in the main square. Camping is possible a kilometre further along the Flow Vélo at Le Buron (06 78 25 84 39).

And look! The river was in flower. It’s a shame the sun wasn’t out to make this a better photo.

Back on the Flow Vélo, we noticed signs to the Grottes du Quéroy, a series of caves that lie about 4km off the Flow Vélo. With a 1.2km circuit through 30 chambers, they make for an interesting visit, especially if the weather is hot or there’s a storm.

After Chazelles, we crossed the Demarcation Line from the Second World War, passing from the occupied to the free zone. How did we know? Because of an information panel beside the cycle path. One of the things I loved about the Coulée d’Oc – apart from the many picnic tables – are the information panels placed at regular intervals. Every panel is a good excuse for a break to add to our knowledge.

We stopped for lunch at one of the tables, at which point I realised we were under an acacia tree on one side and a hawthorn on the other. I quickly checked my tyres for punctures. We were lucky. This time.

Soon after passing the Pont Sec at St.Germain-de-Montbron, we arrived at Marthon station with its toilets and water point. Our curiosity was drawn to a big building with bicycles hung all around it. Do you know what it is? If so, please let me know. The second photo is the former train station.

Again, we left the Flow Vélo to visit the village: if we’d turned left instead of right, we could have continued along the Scandibérique cycleway, which runs from Spain to Norway. But that was slightly beyond our weekend ambitions.

Marthon has a café (closed today, unfortunately) and also some castle ruins. For the first time of the day, I used my muscles to cycle up the steep hill to visit the tower. It’s worth crossing the pretty village to see the views (my photos don’t do them justice).

After Marthon, the cycleway – older and bumpier – was less enclosed and soon touched on the village of Feuillade, which we didn’t visit, partly because we weren’t paying enough attention to the signposts and got a little lost. A couple of kilometres later, the gentle railway came to a halt and the Flow Vélo continued on small roads. The real work was about to begin. We were nearing the Dordogne, reputed for its hills and valleys.

The lane through Les Grandes Rivières hamlet was blocked to traffic by two boulders but bicycles could pass. We crossed the pretty River Bandiat – in flower again – and then, as I’d suspected, the lane started to climb.

It amused me to see we were heading for a village called Souffrignac, so-named no doubt because you suffer in attempting to reach its heady heights (to suffer is ‘souffrir’ in French).

As it was Sunday, we weren’t able to enjoy the syrups and jams from the organic shop Les Jardins du Bandiat in Souffrignac. Instead, we continued up the hill, enjoying the birdsong and quiet roads. Our stop in the village of La Chapelle-Saint-Robert, on the plateau, was welcome, not just for the toilets opposite the church. This is an isolated, ‘olde worlde’ village, with many tumbledown houses. There were even an ancient water pump and petrol distributor.

We were on top of the world, here, surrounded by hay rolls. Freshly cut grass scented the air as we freewheeled down to Javerlhac, gathering energy for the climb up the hill to St-Martin-Le-Pin.

However, just outside Javerlhac, we ran into a cycling race. Literally. The road to St.Martin-Le-Pin was closed so we couldn’t cycle along the Flow Vélo route up the long, steep hill to the village. What a shame.

Instead, the race marshals let us take the flat main road along the valley alongside the racing cyclists. We went much faster, though some of the cyclists overtook us. OK, all of the cyclists overtook us. But we did get a cheer or two from onlooking bystanders.

By now, I was starting to feel a little saddlesore and our passage through this village seemed very apt.

Luckily, a few kilometres later we arrived at our destination – the small town of Nontron. Or, rather, the village of St.Martial-de-Valette, on the outskirts of Nontron, which was marked on our Flow Vélo guide by a tent logo. My odometer read 45km: not bad for our first trip with loaded bikes.

The campsite L’Agrion Bleu was calm, spacious and filled with beautiful, mature trees. Although the environment around the site was industrial, including a sewage system not far away, the campsite itself was perfect, boasting copious hot water, a washing machine & tumble dryer and a fridge as well as petanque, a playground and pool, table football and a flipper in the bar. The town swimming pool and sports ground is right next door. It would make a good base for a holiday and is open all year round.

We set up camp beside the River Bandiat and booked our meal at the snack bar, where the owner promised us our favourite local beer: La Paluche, made by Les Deux Ours brewery, which we’d discovered on a previous trip to the Dordogne. Then we cycled our light-as-air bikes up the hill to discover Nontron, which spreads over two steep-sided hills: hence the need for viaducts.

Being a Sunday evening, pretty much everything was closed, though we did find an open bar where we drank our well deserved aperitifs. Back at the campsite we felt blessed to have found a snack bar and a friendly owner. The sun even came out while we ate our Perigourdine salad and drank our Paluche beer, making a fitting end to our Sunday.

Little did we know what the next day had in store for us.

Monday morning dawned cloudy and cool again, a pleasing 20°C. My husband had heard the sound of the sewage pump in the night, but all I’d noticed were owls and the babbling water in the river. We were refreshed and ready to pedal again.

Although we were to make the return journey along the same route, there would be new things to discover, starting with the hilly road through the village of St.Martin-de-Pin.

To reach St.Martin we had to cycle through Nontron. This gave great views and allowed us to buy lunch, but it also meant that we began the day warming up our stiff muscles (though not as stiff as I’d feared) pedalling uphill for about 10km. Or so it seemed. In fact it was probably only about 4km. The countryside, however, with its hayfields and forests, made the effort worthwhile. I was glad we hadn’t attempted this route the previous day – though we’d experienced worse (better?) in La Creuse.

St.Martin-le-Pin was a tiny village of red tiled roofs with a pretty church, though no shops. Although we were on the D94 road, there was little traffic and it was good to be in the hills after yesterday’s valley ride. All too soon we were back at Javerlhac, the point where we picked up the route we’d taken yesterday.

Given that we’d only torn ourselves away from our comfortable mattresses on the campsite at 11am, we decided to stop for lunch at Javerlhac. Something we have learned over the past weeks is that it’s important to eat a snack and have a rest before you actually feel tired. Today’s lunch stop was one of the best, beside the Bandiat river in Javerlhac. I loved the architecture in this village.

It was after lunch that our idyllic journey took a turn for the worse.

They say problems arrive in threes, so I guess the first ‘problem’ was when it started to rain. Actually, the shower was refreshing. The earthy smell of petrichor and the flowering ground ivy along the verges kept my spirits uplifted. At first. After a while I started to feel a little chilly. Working on the principle that putting on a raincoat would stop the rain, I was relieved when the shower passed. At least it allowed us to test our waterproof bags.

Arriving in Feuillade, I called for a stop. I wanted to leave the Flow Vélo and visit the village, just in case a café was open for a warming cup of coffee. As we turned our bikes, I saw that my husband’s back tyre looked flat. Yes, it was punctured. The back wheel is always more difficult because you have to faff around with the chain and gears. Especially in the rain. I was glad I wasn’t alone.

Being too lazy to unload the bags, I struggled to hold up the bike while my husband disentangled the wheel – cutting his hand in the process – and found the thorn in the tyre. We’d only got one spare inner tube and I held my breath as he unrolled it: we’d bought it years ago and the rubber seemed decidedly perished. I hadn’t checked it before we left.

Luckily, it seemed to hold the air. And luckily, my bike’s tyres looked fine. We didn’t even resort to swearing.

All seemed well and we raced (well, cycled without stopping very often) back along the Coulée d’Oc to Chez Maillet, where we found our car sitting happily where we’d left it. Thanks to my ingenious husband, who had found a way of attaching both bikes to our carrier (remember the problem last time?), we were able to load the bikes onto the car. We began the drive home, satisfied with the performance of our leg muscles, with our puncture-repairing skills and our time spent in the Dordogne. I was already looking forward to our next Flow Vélo itinerant trip.

As we whizzed along the dual carriageway, the car gave a sudden jerk. I glanced over my shoulder. The car behind was flashing its headlights. My husband swore. He put on the warning lights. We pulled over. I jumped out (forgetting my yellow vest). That’s when I saw my bike hanging off the carrier, looking a little embarrassed. It had tried to escape. Had it thought it could take flight? Or had it argued with my husband’s bike?

I’ll never know. But I do know that I was relieved we’d managed to catch it before any damage was done. Otherwise, my cycling adventures would have stopped here.