Food in Provence (and elsewhere)

Breakfast on the terrasse is simple but good. Then it’s out of the bike garage for the final leg. There’s an interesting waypoint almost immediately, the Rochemaure suspension bridge. You’re not supposed to cycle across but as the pedestrian just in front of me stops and steps to one side I think it would be rude not to take his invitation to do just that. An hour or so later, as J. walks across, the bridge is much busier and cyclists must indeed dismount.

Almost before I know it, I’m at Châteauneuf-du-Rhône, the usual start point for our Via Rhôna rides. I’m briefly misrouted by road markings, though, but soon correct myself and head along the usual cycle path. I don’t, though, cross the bridge to Viviers but follow the clearly signposted (but rather gravelly) path along the left bank to Donzere where, at the oddly named Pont du Robinet (Tap Bridge???), I turn my back on the Rhône and head east to Valréas—which is even indicated on the road signs as I follow the D941 out of town. The road has wide cycle friendly verges but the wind is against me and I feel no shame as I turn on the electric assistance.

Around here, I’m hailed by a couple (from Geneva!). I stop and, as I’m turning a corner going uphill, promptly fall over. Luckily, my (helmeted) head misses the conveniently placed rock so it’s plus de peur que de mal, as they say locally. Unfortunately for the lost, but very solicitous and apologetic couple, I’m not a local so cannot help them. As I head on my way they warn me a) not to stop for any other strangers and b) about the path ahead. But I dismiss this with a wave: I’m trusting to Komoot and Felicity’s assurance that, unlike Google, I won’t be sent along uncyclable cycle paths. A km or so further on, I’m not so sure I’ve made the right choice as I wheel my bike past the umpteenth pond, this one with a frog or two hopping around in alarm. Even if the seriously muddy part only lasts for 500m or so, the next couple of km are along a stony path that I navigate carefully in low gear and grateful for my continued maximum battery power.

Eventually I join the D471 just before Chantemerle-lès-Grignan and am cycling along roads that, whilst not familiar, I have cycled along before. By Chamaret and Colonzelle I certainly know where I am and I pass a sign welcoming me to the Enclave des Papes. Almost home! Despite having to be back to cook (my visions of a triumphal arrival at the Café de la Paix having been scotched as, yet again, they are otherwise occupied with some private party), my rear end calls for a rest stop at the start of the cycle path from Grillon. It really is the home strait now, though, and I complete my 48km ride, the shortest of the seven, just after 12:15. As J. is brushing leaves from the terrasse rather than tracking my progress with Google, I have to phone to have the garage door opened, but I’m soon in the pool with a glass of méthode champenoise donated by N & K during their stay here last year.

Lunch is simple, but good, tagliata à la fiorentina accompanied by what seems an appropriate choice of Serre Bosson wine.

I’m a little annoyed to find that I can’t relax by the pool to catch up on the Robin and Strike saga, Amazon having delayed delivery of the latest installment until Tuesday. J., however, picks up One More Croissant for the Road and almost immediately notes Felicity’s view that regular snacks are needed, not something I’ve really felt necessary.