Day 5 Messac to St Brévin-les-Pins (50 kms)

After a dreadful night where I could hear the person in the next room breathing, I was on the road by eight this morning spurning the hotel breakfast for one of my own making. This required me to have a hot pain au chocolat for morning tea which has to be the best, most chocolatey one I’ve ever tasted!

Apart from that, the day was much like yesterday: similar scenery: a river; similar people: fishermen; similar track, although, surprisingly, a better surface the further from the big city it got. Apart from getting soaked feet (again) and covered in seeds in every cranny of my bike bags by grass more than a metre high on an overgrown track early in the day, the way was pretty good and the surface quite easy. Some road, some gravel, mostly hard-packed. And a few places to stop. But not much relief from pedalling really, which was a shame as my derrière was hurting quite a lot.

I had got the urge to move on, so was in Redon, which had been my day’s destination, by 12 noon. I ate lunch by the side of the river for the last time. I had made the decision. I had had enough of canals and rivers, enough of grey skies and enough of no people anywhere mile, or rather, km after km. My plan had been to see the river to its mouth, but no one had been able to give me any information on the route other than that the bike path doesn’t go through. The alternative looked long-winded and a bit hilly, followed by another day of picking my way through a not very attractive and very built-up area to get where I needed to be.

So I determined to get to the sun and the sea, and head for St Brévin-les-Pins on the Atlantic Ocean. And fast. I took a train. Bikes travel free on many trains here in France and so it did, without having to be folded up; it was supposed to be suspendu from a hook but it was hard for even the helpful men to get it up there. From Redon, I changed at Sevenay (steps down, steps up to a different platform, another helpful man), and then to Saint-Nazaire.

This was a good start, but Saint-Nazaire is across the Loire from St Brévin, where I had managed to reserve a B&B for the night. The river is four kilometres wide here at its mouth and there is a huge suspension bridge across. The coward in me emerged. Yes, it is possible to bike up and over and apparently people do, but there is only a painted-on-the-road bike lane. With no bus available and no taxis in sight, I took up the offer that Monsieur from the B&B had made earlier in the day when I’d rung to reserve: if all else failed he would come and get me in his car, which he did.

It took him thirty minutes each way, but he seemed quite delighted by the whole thing. My little bike fitted, folded-up, in his little car, and once I’d figured out that the front passenger seat was not on the left of the car, we were off. On the way, he talked flat out pointing out this and that with such gusto I thought we might end up in the Loire.

St Brévin sits at the south point of the enormous river mouth. It’s an almost sleepy, seaside sprawl, with rather cute single-storey whitewashed and red-tiled-roofed houses and holiday homes for people from Nantes and around. This is the official start of Eurovélo 6 which runs for 4000kms east to the Black Sea (any takers? I think I’d like some company for that one!).

It is also on the Eurovélo 1 which is planned to eventually run from Norway to Portugal. The French part of this was officially opened only last year and runs all the way from Roscoff (north-west Brittany) to Hendaye in the Basque country near the Spanish border. The French refer to it as the Vélodyssée and it’s the reason I chose St Brévin for tonight. The chambre d'hôte, Fleur de Sel, where I stayed is therefore very well placed and has special accreditation for the welcome they give to cyclists.  Monsieur even checked and oiled my bike while I was out for dinner. He and his wife both have fold-ups too but he was drooling over the quality of my Brompton!

 

Lovely, lovely people. A really great find (thanks Hannah!). Galette au saumon Atlantique at a local crêperie for dinner then back to my room. The sun is still shining through my window at 9.30pm; the air is warm. I might be able to stop coughing now! So glad I made it to the sea.