There’s no need for a parent-panic, Mum, but we’ve got a bit of a situation

St Cirq-Lapopie, the Lot

Ed, Pearl and a sunshine bus of happy campers

Before I start this epic (in length anyway) blog, I have to thank Ed and Pearl for allowing me to share their adventures, even though this is my account of an eventful week, ie from the point of view of an over-worrying mum. I guess it is true when they say you never stop worrying about your children, no matter how old they get.

 

Ed and Pearl set off last weekend for summer job with a difference, and one that is a world away from the more routine library job he enjoyed last summer. This year they will be working away for five weeks as the responsible leaders in charge of taking adults with learning difficulties on holiday. It will be a busy summer for them, chaperoning three sets of seven people - two fortnight holidays followed by one week, staying in gîtes in the Lot and then the Creuse.

 

We are equally proud of them and terrified at the responsibility that will be on their shoulders, but we are quite sure if they can survive this, which will include driving a minibus, budgeting for all the holiday expenses, cooking and cleaning (with added covid-19 protocols) as well as day trips and entertainment, they can probably survive anything and will undoubtably learn so much. They are undeniably the most sensible twenty-one and twenty-two-year old’s we know, old before their time, living in a one-bedroom flat (with balcony) in a quiet residential street well away from the hot spots of Poitiers’ student nightlife. Pearl is quiet and caring; a gentle soul who scoops up the lost and injured and who animals always warm to. Ed has a sensitive and caring side too and as this first week away would prove, the ability to remain calm under pressure. On the flip side, they both have amazing airhead moments when I worry about leaving them in charge of an ice-cream.

The Lot

 

The long goodbyes

We got to their flat just after eight o’clock on Saturday morning to give them a bit of morale-boosting and ensure nothing important would be left behind, of which we were only partially successful. As we parked up in a remote corner of a lycée carpark, close enough to the Futuroscope theme park to hear the screams of delight from happy holidaying families, we asked if they would prefer us to hide in the car or were happy to be seen in public with us. Given our roles as bag carriers, we all marched over to the marquees and portacabins that will now be the summer hub for the association organising accompanied holidays for around two-thousand vulnerable adults, with a team of around four hundred staff members – 98% of whom are students.

 

Having signed in and admired around fifty hired minibuses from Titi Location, used during term time for school pick-ups and drop-offs, their first task was assigned to them. Pearl, being one of the oldest (at 22) was the designated driver of a Titibus to take a van full of other students to the hire car centre by the station in Poitiers, twelve kilometres away. As Ed and Pearl will be working together all summer, and Ed was the more enthusiastic candidate, they had an understanding – Ed would be the driver of the minibus, Pearl in charge of navigation. Thrown in at the deep end, she bravely overcame her nerves and made it back safely, followed by a convoy of Europe Car hired vehicles, most with an array of scratches, scrapes and dents in all panels. We proudly stood at a respectable distance as Ed displayed a perfect reverse parking manoeuvre on something that is almost double the length of his Fiat Panda, a skill he has obviously inherited from his father, not me. These few hours of helicopter parenting reassured us that despite their youth and inexperience in so many areas, they would probably be fine, and it was time to take our leave. Many of their summer colleagues were equally as inexperienced and were only just eighteen, so also fairly new to driving – what could possibly go wrong? We hugged them both and returned to their flat to pick up the washing and close it down for the summer. We also scanned in a medical certificate and sent it over to Pearl, the original having failed to make it into her luggage, despite our last-minute checks this morning.

 

It seems their standard laundry policy is to fill their laundry basket until the point of overspill, have a rummage on the top for the essentials and put a wash load on. While this must work for them, every now and again a visit from the laundry fairy to prove there is indeed a bottom to the basket seems a good idea and resulted in four large laundry bags of clothes, another one of bedding and one of assorted towels and tea towels filling the back seat of our car. We also vacuumed the bedroom, emptied the fridge and defrosted the icebox, and cleaned the bathroom, before treating ourselves to a burger lunch at a local diner. Such is our efficiency, we squeezed in a weekly shop on our way home and still had enough time to get the first wash load on and hung out, around our constant checking for text messages from Ed.

Albas, the Lot

 

Their first holiday makers arrived Saturday afternoon, identical twin brothers (with different shaped glasses to help differentiate them) who according to Ed were rather quiet and not too chatty. They all spent the night in a local hotel before the arrival of the rest of the group and the official departure on Sunday. Their three-hundred- and forty-five-kilometre route to the Lot had to go via Limoges, where they picked up their last two clients on the ring road, a chatty wife and quieter husband, and everyone enjoyed a group-getting-to-know-you picnic in Limoges. Before hitting the road once more, they stopped for some essential shopping as the packed picnic from the association, that was supposed to be sufficient for lunch and dinner on Sunday, was woefully empty. 

 

We dot-watched Ed’s mobile phone location on and off on Sunday afternoon, as the excitement of a local semi-pro bicycle race flew through our village, and decked out in our florescent yellow vests, we took our traffic marshalling roles very seriously indeed, before joining friends for a cold beer. Once our phone revealed our travellers had arrived without incident, my anxiety levels began to abate, just a little.

Lot vineyards

 

La Canicule/Heatwave

Monday was a red-alert day for us for extreme heat, with temperatures expected to rise above 40º. Although it had been 36º when they arrived at their gîte, the department of the Lot wasn’t expected to be quite as hot as where we were, but they sensibly decided a quiet day in the cool would be best for everyone. They were joined by Martino, a more experienced member of staff who would be with them until Friday lunchtime, to ensure they had everything under control and give them both some downtime, as there would be no rest days in week two. Siestas were encouraged and the planned early evening walk in a shady spot put on hold when everyone emerged post-siesta dressed in pjs.

 

Tuesday morning and we awoke to the smell of burning and heavy, leaden skies. The temperature had dropped overnight and the change in wind direction meant the smoke from the devastating forest fires between Arcachon and Bordeaux had reached us, some two-hundred kilometres to the north-east. A quick text to Ed revealed they had missed this excitement and the sun was still shining on their holiday, for now. 

 

We spotted his phone location in Cahors and imagined them to be taking in the sights of the fourteenth century Valentré bridge, with its towers, arches and cobbles, that is one of our favourite places in the area, but realising they would be busy, tried our best not to keep messaging for updates. As my evening yoga class drew to a close and I’d settled down for the relaxation part, my phone began to ring. Adrian was still out on his bike, so relaxation was the last thing my mind was capable of with a ringing phone down in the kitchen. It wasn’t a call for help from Adrian, but Ed out in the garden of the gîte uttering the words “there’s no need for a parent-panic, Mum, but we’ve got a bit of a situation”.

Pont Valentré, Cahors, the Lot

 

Hello Covid-19

While the theory of creating ‘family’ groups of strangers for accompanied holiday experiences is spot-on, we are still living through a pandemic and it seems our companion Covid-19 didn’t want to be left out.

 

Pearl had begun to feel unwell on Sunday, got a positive result from a home Covid-19 test on Monday, that was confirmed by a PCR test on Tuesday morning, hence their visit to Cahors. The good news was that Ed was suffering no symptoms and his PCR had come back negative. They were awaiting further instructions from the association, but as her results hadn’t arrived until after six o’clock, nothing much could be decided until the following day. Their sleeping arrangements in this gîte were bunk beds, which at least gave a bit more of a safety buffer than a double bed. Luckily, with Martino already onsite, there was no immediate need for a replacement member of staff.

 

My covid panic-monitor rose sharply at the realisation that I’d stripped their bed not more than a few hours after they’d rolled out of it on Saturday and bundled all their laundry into the car, some of it having made it through the washing machine, some of it still bagged in our laundry room. The fact that Ed was holding his own was reassuring and by now it was too late to worry about my lack of personal protection equipment, or that we’d hugged them both goodbye.

The Lot

 

Texts were flying on Wednesday as I checked in with Pearl to see how she was feeling, reassured myself that Ed was still feeling OK and hung on with tenterhooks to see what the group PCR results would be as today’s fun activity had been a minibus ride back to the Covid-19 test centre in Cahors. Luckily all results came back clear, and Pearl had used her time to liaise with the association. It seems that despite it only being the first few days of the first week, theirs was not the only group to be hit with Covid-19. The association had taken out an insurance policy that provided an ambulance taxi service to evacuate staff members falling ill, so at seven o’clock on Wednesday evening an ambulance arrived to collect Pearl and drive her back to the flat in Poitiers – the flat that we had stripped bare on Saturday, turning off the electrics as we shut the front door behind us. Luckily for Pearl, Adrian wasn’t working, so had made a mercy dash with a few food essentials, the freshly washed bedding and towels, and ensured that when she arrived at almost midnight, there was a tank of hot water for a shower.

 

It might be that I’m just nosey, but there are times when I am the sort of person whose head is full of questions, and this was one of those times. I had questions for Pearl about how she was feeling, what symptoms she had and what would happen next in terms of being signed off from work, when she could return and how that would happen? I had questions for Ed about how he was feeling, what would happen when Martino had to leave on Friday lunchtime, would they need to keep testing everyone and had he safely managed to wash Pearl’s bedding from the top bunk? I also had questions about how the group were settling in together and had anyone been panicked at Pearls departure in an ambulance?

The Lot

 

Not again

Thursday evening and once again my phone rang and once again, it was Ed. We might keep in contact regularly by text, but a real live call from him, is a rare occurrence and as I’d soon find out, not usually one imparting good news. 

 

This morning Martino had woken up with a cracking headache, which prompted a home test and another positive result for Covid-19. He wasn’t feeling up to doing much, so the group were given the option of a quiet day indoors if their mobility wasn’t too good and a trip to a Plus Beaux Villages de France for those who felt they could manage it. Ed and half the group packed a picnic and climbed in the minibus for the hours’ drive to St-Cirq-Lapopie, accessed via a narrow road that twists and turns up a gorge. Sometimes it’s not a benefit as an anxious parent to know the full details, but having cycled up the gorge twice, ducking under the overhanging rock formations, I knew exactly what he was getting himself into, in sole charge of a minibus and half the group of vulnerable adults. Arriving back just after six o’clock, there was no rest for him as he was on dinner duties, but he did receive the welcome news that another member of staff, Evan, had just left Poitiers and would be with them sometime after ten o’clock.

St Vincent Rive d'Olt, the Lot

 

Le Tour de France

Friday was a day of much excitement for our happy campers as the Tour de France was passing through their village on its way to a finish line in Cahors. This meant a lot of road closures, so the obvious activity for the day was to walk into the village and soak up the atmosphere of the publicity caravane that precedes the passing of the cyclists. The only one unable to enjoy the fun was Martino who was shut in his bedroom awaiting his official PCR result before he could leave, something that had been delayed by twenty-four hours due to the arrival of the Tour de France. Luckily all other members of the group were still symptom free.

 

We eagerly watched the live race coverage on TV hoping for a glimpse of Ed at the side of the road, only to be disappointed as the camera cut to an overhead view of field art at the critical moment. At least some of the group had bagged some freebies from the caravane and although there was a mini panic when they lost one of the group on the walk back to the gîte, Ed assures me they found him again pretty quickly. It was lovely to get a photo of them all that evening in a local restaurant, happy and smiling as they waited for their burgers.

The Lot

 

Pearl’s return

Pearl’s official sick-note only lasted until the end of Friday, which seemed woefully inadequate to me, but I guess we have reached the stage in the pandemic where the economy must keep rolling. I also found it a bit harsh that despite her dramatic evacuation, it was up to her to plan her return to the group. The train looked long and complicated, so she found a car-share option on BlaBlaCar and left Poitiers at four o’clock on the Saturday afternoon, with an arranged drop-off in the Cahors McDonald’s carpark later that evening. 

 

I’m pleased to say she made it safely back without incident, although the text from Ed about the antics of the family whose car she had shared did raise a few eyebrows. It seems the first thing they did on arrival in Cahors is dive into the bin in the car park and come out triumphant with loads of bread to eat. They were even generous enough to offer to share their haul with Ed and Pearl.

 

It is a relief for us that team Ed and Pearl are back together, and her return also meant Ed got his first day off on Sunday, when Pearl and Evan took charge of outings and activities. Well done guys, we are so proud of you - you’ve made it through the first week and proved you are more than up to the job, despite the issues that have come your way. Dad will be back to the flat this week, to strip the bed, bag up the washing, empty the fridge and turn off the electrics. I hope the rest of the summer is more fun and less eventful than this first week has been.

This is a post for Mums everywhere and reading it back I know it says far more about my inability to let go than Ed and Pearl’s ability to cope in a crisis. If you’ve made it to the end, thank you.

A lucky escape in the Lot

On the banks of the Lot

Feeling Lucky in the Lot

It has now been two weeks since we returned from our five-night break in the Lot, where, if you read on, you’ll discover I was lucky not to break any bones. The last fortnight seems to have passed in a flurry of storms, rain and household chores, with the lack of sunshine seriously affecting my energy levels. It is just as well we were able to squeeze in two holidays, almost back to back, as with less than a week until I start work, I’m beginning to feel cheated out of a proper summer. 

 

The interior of the quirky cottage in St Vincent Rive d'Olt

Within a week of returning home from the Corréze, the car was packed once more, creaking under the weight of food and cycling gear as we headed south towards Angouleme and Bergerac, and then on to the Lot. It is unusual for us to return to the same location for a holiday but having enjoyed everything from the accommodation to the cycling last October, we were keen to see how the landscape would look in its spring greens, under sunny skies, rather than in its autumn golds. 

 

The day before we left, I was up at six o’clock and had ticked off six things on my to-do list before the eight o’clock morning angelus had rung. The day then ended with a thirty-three-kilometre apéro-picnic bike ride with friends and an evening yoga class. Knowing the effort Adrian had put into the route planning for the week, I hoped I wouldn’t be too tired to keep up.

 

I could quite easily have snoozed in the car on the journey down and my sleepy brain managed to text the owner of the holiday home saying we’d arrived (nous sommes arrivés) rather than we will be arriving (nous arriverons) at 16h45. It was only her reply of j’arrive tout de suite (I’ll be there soon) that I realised my error. At least she laughed at my grammatical mess-up and didn’t mind the wait.

A view over the Lot and the vineyards

 

Once we’d moved in and unpacked, we set off on our prologue ride; a sixteen-kilometre loop that started straight up a serious hill. Adrian had wanted to do this ride when we were here in October, but I wasn’t so keen. For just over a kilometre, it was quite a climb, but the view down to an almost full circle loop in the River Lot, with vineyards tucked into the flat, and steep forested hills off to the distance, was stunning. We agreed we’d be back with the coffee pot and croissants for breakfast in the morning.

 

We first started cycling a holiday prologue route a year ago when we arrived at Lou Messugo in the south of France and set out to explore the gorges of the Loup river. After a day in the car, it left me with a huge grin on my face and ready to get out on adventures the following morning. Today was the same feeling. It woke me up, warmed up my legs and gave my senses a real taste of what is to come. It also confirmed we were right to come back here as there is so much more for us to see and explore on the bikes.

 

The view from breakfast

We'd promised ourselves breakfast with a view and it didn’t disappoint. The climb back up to the viewpoint didn’t take too long and once we were sat on our rock, watching the morning sun on the vineyards, it took even less time to brew a coffee and warm up the pain aux chocolats. It was the perfect start to a seventy-five-kilometre day ahead.

 

Lunch in Floressas

We left Luzech and began a steady climb through oak woods and vineyards, with nothing more than a woodpecker to disturb the peace and every ascent was rewarded with a fast descent, where the view changed once more. We lunched in Floressas, a village at the top of our third climb, on a bench by the church, in the shade of a red sycamore tree. It was the perfect location as we also found a tap to top up the water bottles. The climbs were long enough to challenge without ever being too difficult and I certainly felt I’d earned my fish pasta salad and piece of flapjack. 

 

The vineyards along the Véloroute Vallée du Lot

We then descended back down to the River Lot and picked up the Véloroute Vallée du Lot cycle path. This snaked through vineyards following the meandering Lot and was easy on the legs as it’s fast and flat. With the river, the vineyards and the scenery, it’s easy on the eye too, but we both agreed we’d preferred the challenging undulations of the morning route. We were treated to the sight of two young deer in the vineyards, one who was happy to stand still and watch us arrive and get the camera out. However, as soon as Adrian focussed it, he twitched his ears, turned and ran for cover. I smelt my first tillou tree blossom and saw my first flowering hollyhocks too. It was another superb day on the bikes, although our route barée call my bluff game didn’t work out so well today. The tiny old suspension bridge crossing the mighty Lot at Albas was closed for painting. We asked if we could walk the bikes over, but they had resurfaced the road and this time closed, meant closed, leaving us no option but to return to Luzech on the main road. The day ended on a high though, as a quick tour of the Luzech loop took us through the vineyards we’d looked down on at breakfast this morning.

 

St Vincent Rive d'Olt

We left the pretty village of St Vincent Rive d’Olt early on day two, and made our way through the vineyards to St Géry, the other side of Cahors. The morning sun appeared to make the fresh green vine leaves sparkle and it looked like we were set for another hot, sunny day.

 

St Cirq-Lapopie

We crossed the Lot and climbed up to St Cirq-Lapopie, and the rocky banks at the side of the road were covered in wildflowers in whites, pinks and purples, alive with butterflies in almost as many colours. Once again, we viewed the pretty village of St Cirq-Lapopie from afar, as steep, narrow, cobbled paths, whilst wearing metal-cleated cycling shoes and pushing a bike was asking for trouble. The views we saw may have been the same as last October, but the colours couldn’t have been more different. 

 

Making our way from the Lot department to the Aveyron, we climbed, we descended, and we crossed the river on narrow metal suspension bridges as we cycled from village to village. There were more people out and about than last October, but it was still quiet and peaceful and on one climb I was joined by a cornflower blue butterfly who circled the bike frame and kept pace with me until we reached the top. 

 

A drinking water fountain in the heat of the day

In the Aveyron the house style changed, with stone tiles hanging low on square roofs. The temperature climbed to over thirty degrees, so we made good use of the drinking water points we found, although it felt blissfully cool on the roads sandwiched between rock and river. We also indulged in two afternoon patisseries, a flan each as we returned through Cajarc and then a lemon meringue tarte for Adrian and a Jesuite for me (an almond and crème patissière filled flaky pastry triangle), just a few kilometres from the carpark in St Géry. After a day of ninety-eight kilometres, at an average speed of 20km/hr, I think we deserved it.

 

 

Sunset over the Lot

We finished the day with a celebratory wine at sunset, from the viewpoint above the village, just to ensure we completed a full 100km day. It had been cloudy down in the village, but as we reached the top of the hill the sun was a magnificent glowing ball, sitting just above the hills on the other side of the river that we’d cycled over yesterday. Our timing was perfect as it seemed to have been waiting for us to arrive before gracefully sinking behind the hill. It was a dramatic end to great day; my first 2021 100km-in-a-day.

 

Unusually for us we didn’t set an alarm and equally unusually, we didn’t wake up until gone eight thirty the following morning. I guess after yesterday’s epic day in the saddle, we needed the rest. Our local loop today started off with coffee and a croissant on a bar terrace in Luzech. Service was painfully slow, but the coffee was good and it was a great location for people-watching, including seeing quite a few fully loaded touring cyclists, off on big long-distance adventures, I’m sure.

 

Our ride today turned out to be quite an adventure and at seventy-four-kilometres, taking us out of the Lot and into the departments of Lot et Garonne and Tarn et Garonne, wasn’t too bad in terms of distance either. 

 

Albas

We set off along the other bank of the River Lot, to ensure we got to see Albas, where the bridge was still being painted, as it’s a pretty little village whose narrow streets lead down to the river. We then climbed up into the rocky vineyards, descended down through forests and then climbed back up again. The Garmin route planner thought sending us down rough, stony white tracks would be fun, while we thought sticking to tarmac would be preferable. When we saw signs for Floressas, where we had lunch two days ago, we decided it was worth the climb up to picnic there again. A shady bench and a cold-water tap were too good an opportunity to miss as it was a hot day and sweat was already glistening all over me.

 

Off-roading on the Bromptons

If we’d thought the Garmin was having a laugh in the morning, the route in the afternoon was even more bizarre, thanks to my idea to cycle out of the Lot department and into two neighbouring ones. As we left the vineyards behind and headed into the Quercy, where cereal crops and walnut trees took over, the climbing got steeper, the descending more perilous and then we lost roads all together. What started as a stone path, soon became a grass track with overhanging young oak trees that needed careful ducking under. It was a slow crawl, totally off the beaten track, with no signs of life or habitation anywhere around that left me feeling like a real adventurer. At the edge of a field we had nothing but a narrow trail of stones to follow through the long grass, until we found ourselves back on a lane beside some houses.

 

It was a relief to make our way back to the vineyards and rocky valleys of the Lot department and our final climb into Sauzet. We knew from there it was just an eight-kilometre downhill breeze back to St Vincent Rive d’Olt, on what had turned out to be a bonkers day in places, but another excellent ride.

Our shady apéro terrace

What happened next was so close to being a disaster, I wish we had we just stayed at the little bistro table on the shady terrace, instead of thinking a quick explore of the riverbank would fill the time between pre-apéros (a chilled drink) and our apéros with nibbles. While Adrian got the bikes out, I picked up my phone and purse, locked the door and headed down the steps where I soon discovered cycling shoes with metal cleats and smooth, stone steps are not a good combination. One minute I was walking, then my feet slid out from underneath me and the next minute I was sitting, having slid down about four steps, mainly using my right elbow and right back ribs as my contact points with the steps. After a moment to gather my composure and have a good feel for aches and pains, miraculously all seemed to be fine. 

The gorgeous stone steps

 

I had no scuff marks to my skin, no rips in my favourite cycling shorts and thanks to the application of the arnica we always travel with, much less bruising than I deserved (although a week later and things were rather colourful in places). We avidly watch all the ambulance and hospital documentaries and know it could have been so much worse; with broken bones, bleeding, or concussion. 

 

A hidden path on the banks of the Lot

My right elbow seemed to take the worst of the impact, but I got on my bike and we set off as planned, following the mill stream and then the river. The road gave way to a cool, shady track through the trees, where the rocks rose sharply to our left, up to our sunset point on the hill. To the right was the curve in the river that we could have followed all the way into Luzech. The thick tree cover was eery and jungle-like, dripping in hairy lichen; the sun barely penetrating through the thick canopy. We explored for a kilometre or so, before retracing our steps and enjoying our apéro nibbles back on the terrace.

 

I slept more comfortably than I thought I would and my elbow and back only felt tender when I lay on them or sat against something hard. I definitely believe in guardian angels, as someone must have gently cushioned my fall and stopped me bouncing all the way to the bottom and doing some real damage.

 

Célé gorge road

We parked once again in St Géry and made use of the boulangerie for pastries to have with a coffee at the bar next door, which set us up nicely for the day on the bikes. We began by retracing our steps along the Lot until the Eiffel railway bridge at the confluence of the Célé with the Lot. Here we took the D41 Célé gorge road. 

 

Célé gorges

What a hidden gem of a road this was, with hardly any traffic, a very easy, gentle gradient and a nice smooth road surface. We seemed to glide gracefully for kilometre after kilometre enjoying the views of the steep, rocky gorges, canoeists on the river and pretty villages (some on the Compostela pilgrimage route). We lunched in Marcillac sur Célé, on a shady bench by the river where dragonflies dipped, and frogs sang. 

 

Espagnac-Sainte-Eulalie

The afternoon gave us houses cut into rocks, herds of cows and the smell of freshly cut hay in the fields at the side of the road. It was so quiet and beautiful that when we got to the village Adrian had planned for us to turn back at, we carried on, only starting our return when we reached the end of the road. A boulangerie stop about ten kilometres from the car sugared us up nicely with a local delicacy of a walnut and raisin briochette.

 

It had been a cloudy start to the day, but the sun came out just before lunch and stayed with us for the rest of the day. We got back to the car having cycled 111km at 22.3km/hr – the furthest I have ever cycled in one day and not a bad effort following my acrobatics last night. It was a superb end to another great holiday and if you are ever in the Lot, by all means climb up to St Cirq Lapopie, but don’t miss the less well known Célé gorge road either.

 

Sunday morning breakfast picnic

Despite it being a Sunday, the alarm went off at 7h and we were up and out, cycling back up the hill for a breakfast overlooking the Lot valley and vineyards. After breakfast, we carried on up the hill and in Sauzet felt a fitting end to a lovely break would be a couple of croissants for another breakfast back at the cottage. It was just what we needed to fuel a busy morning making lunch, packing and cleaning up, before locking the door and leaving at 10h45. Our 17km breakfast run had taken us to a whopping 400km cycled between Tuesday to Sunday and I was feeling very lucky to be alive. 

Subscribe by email here

Email Address

First Name

In the Lot before lockdown, part two

Cycling in the Lot

Day three, Sunday 1^st November 2020  

Welcome to November, a month that has started with damp and drizzle and heavy skies; a far cry from the bright, sunny day we had yesterday and not a day to bother with drying the washing outside. It was a day to indulge in a hot bowl of spicy vegetable soup for lunch though, topped with deliciously melted grated cheese. Dinner tonight will stick with the comfort food theme; a roasted butternut squash risotto using my homemade pork bone broth.

 

I have started work on my Lockdown II Big Jobs List, hoping its existence will give us motivation and guidance when boredom or lethargy come calling in the coming weeks. Some jobs will need fair weather, like clearing the potager and mowing the lawns, others, like washing down and preparing woodwork for a repaint, could be started today while the rain fell steadily outside.

 

Ed is pretty good at keeping himself occupied, and between lockdown being announced on Wednesday evening and us arriving home on Friday, he’d rearranged his bedroom to give himself a work area and a relax zone. As well as bringing his TV back from Poitiers (yes, he really is that deprived that he’s never had a TV in his bedroom before now) he has taken possession of the rocking chair my Nan bought for me when he was a newborn. We’d only recently thought about getting rid of it as it’s had very little use for many years, so I’m secretly delighted he’s given it a new lease of life.

 

The cheery colours of autumn in the Lot seem a long way from the grey we can see outside the windows today, but the memories of our week away are still as vivid in my mind as the landscapes we cycled through.

 

In the Lot before lockdown part two

 

Pont Valentré, Cahors, Lot

Wednesday is weekly market day in the town of Cahors and the destination for our first bike ride from St-Vincent-Rive-d’Olt where we were staying for three nights. Adrian had planned a forty-six-kilometre loop that climbed the hills directly behind the village, descended and climbed again, before dropping down to the Lot at the Pont Valentré, Cahors’ famous and beautiful turreted bridge. The weather was against us, but as markets only open in the mornings we either went or missed out. It had been almost seven weeks since I’ve done any serious cycling and to start ascending almost from the front door was tough on my legs. The cool, damp air, heavy with fine misty rain that clung to everything wasn’t much fun but seeing the bridge again for the first time in over five years, certainly made up for it. 

 

Masked up at market, Cahors, Lot

A slow wander around market, where every other stall was selling big, fat cèpe mushrooms, we bought some local goat cheese and a bottle of wine, before stopping for a coffee and a croissant. Masks had to be worn around the outdoor market and names and contact numbers left in a notebook at the café bar. Understandable I know, but when every hand that arrives has to take hold of the same notebook and pen, it seemed a bit of a germ-risk to me.

 

Cahors vineyards in Autumn

We returned along the Lot cycle route that mostly follows the meandering river Lot as it takes you through the Cahors vineyards. In my opinion, whatever the weather, autumn is the best time to see them. Even when the cloud descended as low as our noses and the rain on my glasses reduced my visibility, the colours were fantastic. Rose gold vineyards all around, broken only by the stone bothies or walnut trees; their colours a perfect complement to the vines.

 

Autumn in the Cahors vineyards

In the afternoon when the sun made a brief appearance before it set, we managed to get a glimpse of just how much these vines glow in the sunlight. It was as mesmerising as staring into the flames of a flickering fire. Having added another twenty-eight kilometres to the forty-six-kilometre market run, an open boulangerie provided the perfect refuelling stop. There were sadly no flans, but a Portuguese custard tart and a walnut tartelette certainly didn’t disappoint.

 

A homecooked meal and a glass of Cahors Malbec wine rounded off a great day perfectly, and then President Macron made his address to the nation. While it had been obvious the virus was tightening its grip on France once more, stuck in our happy holiday bubble, I wasn’t expecting a nationwide lockdown, and especially one that would come into effect while we were still away.

 

St-Cirq-Lapopie

On the last day before lockdown came into force, and once we had dashed out for some last-minute essentials, we packed a picnic lunch and got out on the bikes for what is likely to be our last big ride this year. St-Cirq-Lapopie certainly proved to be a fitting finale for what has turned out to be an epic year on the bikes. Following the Lot valley from St-Géry to St-Cirq-Lapopie and on to Cajarc gave us a stunning sixty-eight-kilometre ride ablaze with autumn colours and wide horizons decorated with perched hilltop towns, chateaux and houses emerging from the rocks. 

Cycling in the Lot

The rain of yesterday had gone and we even enjoyed some sun as we cycled along balcony roads with overhanging rocks and tunnels, twisting and turning, but always coming back to the river Lot. It was just what we needed to fill our minds and boost our senses before heading into another period of lockdown.