Jour douze – le jour de repos….enfin!
So after eleven long, hard and exhausting days of cycling we have finally arrived at the main challenge of our epic adventure, the one that has been on our minds for many weeks and months and the one that we have been able to see in the distance getting bigger and bigger as we move to towards it for the last two days……Mont Ventoux.
Please don’t take this to mean that everything we have endured so far was in anyway insignificant or easy (it was absolutely not) but tomorrow is of a whole different scale and intensity. It is sixteen miles of climbing at an average of 7% (peaking at 12% in some sections!) all the way up to an eye watering 6273 feet and we are each carrying around 15 kilos of panniers…..it is going to be brutal, and it’s going to be painful and, assuming we make it, it is going to be the most amazing and fantastic achievement.
Somehow the view from our campsite makes it appear even more intimidating….
First though it’s our delayed rest day and our introduction to the lovely town of Malaucene and some hard earned R and R could hardly have gone any better.
Our campsite is slightly above and out of town (Camping Le Bosquet) and it is lovely and peaceful (showers 9/10, toilets 2/10….could have been a 6 if they had seats!) and once we are showered and settled we wander into town looking for something to eat and drink.
We are instinctively drawn to the noisiest and liveliest restaurant in town, our simple logic being that it must be busy for a good reason and it is….we are not disappointed!
Les Terrace de Ventoux is heaving and initially we are told that a table “eez not possible” however as we go to leave Marc strikes up a conversation with the owner, Martyn (from Huddersfield) and he insists that he will find us a table pronouncing “I am not turning Brits away!” After a short discussion with the waitress (who it turns out is his wife and co owner Cani!) we are in but we will have to wait a while. This suits us fine as not only does it mean we can partake in a few extra, very welcome pints but they are both truly excellent company!
Not only that but when Martyn hears what we have been up to and why, he instantly produces 20 euros as a donation to Winstons Wish….what an absolute gentleman, thank you both so much!
Dinner is fantastic (as is the continuous flow of beer!) and the restaurant is perhaps unsurprisingly full of cyclists, mostly brits, who have competed the Cingles challenge today. The Cingles is the local cycling club and to become a member you have to compete the challenge of climbing all three routes to the summit of Ventoux in one day…..I mean what on earth is that all about!
We are pretty much awestruck by these guys although when we start chatting with them they are clearly also full of respect for what we have achieved so far and what we are planning for tomorrow…..it really feels great to be acknowledged by people who are clearly high calibre cyclists.
Much, much later and many many beers later (there may have been a whisky or two from Edradour, one of my favourite distilleries!) we literally stagger back to the campsite. I seem to remember phoning Jo and waxing lyrical about the amazing stars at some point but it’s all a little bit hazy.
The next day, today, is all about relaxing, washing clothes and preparing bikes and our bodies for tomorrow.
Dan decides, quite rightly, that the combination of Mont Ventoux, no rear brake and a makeshift fix to his helmet is not a happy one and so he looks for some replacement headgear. Please god he doesn’t choose this one…..
I also decide I need some new head gear but go a slightly different way in the form of a novelty “chapeau”…..
….which is very tastefully “Mont Ventoux” branded….nice!
We really do have a fantastically lazy day and pretty much lounge around for the majority of it. We will be back at Les Terrace de Ventoux tonight (we have booked this time!) but I rather doubt there will be the same level of beer consumption.
As a final sign off tonight I thought I should include this picture of my grandparents (Joan and Ron White) when they were in their late teens or early twenties. I guess this confirms that cycling is in the genes…..
…..although the only clear downside with this photo it that you cannot ever unsee what very much appears to be my own grandmothers stocking tops.