My own Tour de France

Recently, I left on a trip that consisted of over 100 miles on my bike. It was glorious! Let’s just say my bottom did not thank me once it was over, but it was so worth it, that I do not mind the fact that I will be recuperating for a couple of days. The funny thing is that I just looked at the real Tour de France website, and they ride more than 100 miles each day for the whole month of July, and here I am complaining about a puny little trip I took. Well, I suppose I am no Lance Armstrong or whoever is in the running for the Tour this year. Maybe later on, I will have a chance to actually see the race…who knows.

Anyway, I started in this small, rundown village called Tonnerre; which, upon saying that was my first stop, I received two types of looks --- confusion (they had never heard of it) or disbelief because everyone knows there is nothing in Tonnerre. Well, the people in the latter category were definitely right: there is nothing there and they have terrible signs giving directions to important buildings, like the Office of Tourism. What a little experience I had with that. I got off the train, carrying my bike, knowing that I must find the office of tourism. I had an address in my hand for the place I would stay at for the night, but no idea what the phone number was to confirm where their location was (funny, I remembered the less important half of that whole situation…you would think a phone number would be more valuable when traveling to an unfamiliar area to get directions rather than an obscure name and a direction that says “Towards Tanlay”) I road around this little town about four times, asking about five people where this office was, only to get lost again, not understanding exactly what they meant by their directions…everyone said something about a square, which remained elusive to me until flat against the wall of the office. Finally, I saw a sign, mismarked, but effective enough to get me to a new part of the city (also, you would think with a place that small, I would have no problem traversing the entire city, but wrong again).

As is my normal tendency, I went to a bakery to buy a dessert and some bread for the afternoon, then went to the main attraction the town had to offer, which is really quite amazing. It is called the Fosse Dionne and is this very strange pond that dates back to the 16th century. The legend surrounding the pond says that there is no bottom…kind of neat. I met some elderly French women who took my picture and with whom I had a nice little chat. It has been such a blessing to meet people on my travels, even if for only a small moment in time. Those small human encounters really prevent loneliness and a feeling of disconnection.

Since the tourism office was not open, I decided that I should just explore the town a little and maybe look for some place to stay (I was not sure that I would be able to find the place I had reserved on the internet because it was 4 km from the town). I saw one sign for a hotel that was located in an abbey, and I thought that might be interesting; well, that sign pointed in a direction that went uphill which is not the most pleasant experience on a bike (I would have lots of these experiences on this trip). I thought it would be worth it if it led to a room for the night…the rundown quality of the sign should have been an indication, but I didn’t listen to my intuition. After about 10 minutes of an arduous climb up the hill, I discovered that the abbey was no longer open for business, but the view from the top was spectacular. It was one of the most wonderful and lovely sights I have ever seen. That is why I said to myself, sometimes, mistakes and pain are all worth it in the end, and if you look hard enough, those trials are always worth it.

After trying to find a place to stay for the night and after climbing up some unnecessary but worthwhile hills, I decided to look at what I had written about the home where I was supposed to stay and decided to have faith in the "Towards Tanlay" information. Throwing worries to the wind (easy to do on a bike), I embarked on my journey.

Riding along, I saw a sign for my lodging…thank the Lord! I rode up and the couple met me, expecting me, and showed me my bed. I left a couple of my things there, explained that I would be returning late, jotted down some notes about the region (roads, etc. which actually did not help me in the end) and was on my way. I had a plan in my mind, but like most plans in life, mine surely did not go the way I expected. Taking the road outside of the home, I traveled first to the Chateau at Tanlay, which is a grand chateau, I think of the 16th century, surrounded by a lovely garden and surprisingly a golf course…I did not know anyone knew how to golf in France, but it looked lovely anyway. With me, I had half of a baguette that I finished while gazing at the Chateau and sitting under some beautiful trees planted beside a canal. Even though I was told by my Guide Vert that the Chateau was worth a detour, I decided not to spend the money to go inside. You know, sometimes I think that all of these old buildings look the same and you end up spending money to see the same things. Without my Guide Vert, I could have assumed, and been 95 % correct, what I would see within the Chateau --- gold guilding, paintings of the royals who had owned and built the home, old furniture, detailed brocade, and antique accessories like china, silverware, candlesticks, and things like that. For me, it is much more pleasurable to sit in the garden of a grand place like that, reading about its history, imagining the way of life back then and taking in the anomalies of a place where an old Chateau is juxtaposed against automobiles and modern conveniences.

From Tanlay, I found the canal of Bourgogne, and after asking directions of how to get to a town called Noyers, I was on my way. The woman had given me clear directions, giving me a town at which I should stop and from there I would see a sign pointing to Noyers. Well, it turned out the canal was not well marked and not very well maintained. Compared to the part of the canal in the Cote d’Or (the most famous area of Burgundy), this was dilapidated. Much of this region had that feel of dereliction, despite being incredibly lovely. As it turned out, I never found that one town and ended up going to a town called Ancy-de-Franc where there was another very famous Chateau, which was lovely and grand. Worthwhile and worth the confusion…but the funny thing is that I really was getting a little flustered that I was having so many difficulties. Then I realized how comical I was being. I was getting flustered in an area I knew nothing about, trying to get to a city about which I only read one page in my Guide Vert, and standing in front of one of the most famous Chateaus in Burgundy! Again, I learned a lesson about being patient with my failings as a traveler, and adapted to the uncertainty of the voyage.

Noyers was lovely, encircled by its ramparts from the Middle Ages. It was worth the bike ride despite the fact that Burgundy is not flat like I originally thought. Quite the contrary, Burgundy is full of nice rolling hills that glisten with fertile crops and bounty…but when on a bike, they are cruel and tiring J It was a perfect way to end the day (well, it was another 15 miles to my home, but almost the end), walking through over 600 years of history, traversing the cobblestone road and wondering how some things change so rapidly while others languish in their concreteness.

Rising early, I caught a train to Montbard, which I had previously visited two weeks ago, to catch a bus to Epoisses. Epoisses also lays claim to a lovely Chateau and garden, but more famously, it is renowned for its cheese, which I tasted in a delicious round of bread I purchased from the local bakery. From Epoisses, I road to Semur-en-Auxois --- a much larger version of Noyers. Encapsulated by four large towers, built in the 14th century, this town has maintained much of its medieval charm (you know, minus the rats and stench and filth). I went on a hunt to find all of the towers, named Margot, D’orly, Ghennes, and the Prison Tower; it was a fun game that I was able to play and also experience the city during the course of it. These cities are not very large, so when on a somewhat lax schedule, one need not spend more than 2 or 3 hours in one place. Feeling confident that I had seen the entire city and obtaining a map of the Cote d’Or region (which helped me but gave me a misplaced sense of confidence…more on this later), I left for my final stop, which actually turned into two stops.

With my trusty Guide Vert, I discovered there were some neat Roman-Gaullish ruins close to the Chateau I planned to visit. A battle had been fought around 50 B.C. at this site between the Romans and the Gauls, the victory of which went to the Gauls. A grand statue had been erected of the commander of the Gaullish army, so I was on my way, piqued with curiosity. As it turned out, it took me about 25 minutes longer to find it than it should have because the signs were not incredibly well marked and as you all know, I have no internal sense of direction. The way was completely uphill, so I left my bike, and made the trek on foot. At the top of the hill, in a very interesting sort of city, I found a lovely public restroom (something Semur had been lacking) and well-marked signs to find my way. Definitely worth the climb because the view was expansive of the area and I got to see an impressive statue and ruins (literally ruined…people actually paid money so they could see a bunch of broken bricks…I was outside of the fence, but was able to take a picture of what now looks like a pile of forgotten cement). I was on my way again.

Going to the Chateau Bussy-Rabutin was another hike uphill and then an even steeper hike up another hill into a very small village. The Chateau was well masked by the buildings and nature surrounding it, so when I paid to see the gardens, I was surprised at the enormity of the castle. Really, especially when comparing it to the area that surrounded it.
When leaving this fairytale-esque castle, I finally got into some big trouble. I decided that I did not want to go back the way I came to ride into Montbard. Instead, I used my map to plan a route, using some very obscure roads and towns as markers. The first link was Bussy-le-Grand, which was just outside of the Chateau and consequently, steeply inclined and uphill. It took me about 20 minutes to get up and about 5 minutes to get down!!! When I reached the summit, I was pretty discouraged because I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that something was not right. I asked a group of construction workers how to get back to Montbard and they told me exactly what I did not want to hear: I needed to go back the way I came, down the hill and down the exact route I had taken, the one I wanted to avoid. With a small French expletive (I couldn’t help myself), I resigned myself to ride very fast because I had one hour to ride 20 km and I was completely exhausted. I road as fast as I could, which wasn’t very fast, but fast enough, and just prayed the whole way that I would not miss my train. In my mind, the train left at 5:22, and I was within the window! Approaching the window, looking frenzied I am sure, I asked for a ticket, only to be told the train just left (by 5 minutes) and the next left in 45 minutes but I would have to pay to take my bike. Huh? Thinking quickly, I told her I would think about it, so I took my bike outside and walked to the nearest bakery (yes, sugar does help calm my nerves). Inspired by the easy walk and the breeze and a sense of calm from God (I mean, afterall this was not a grave situation, just an inconvenience), I thought of a plan to get back home without any problems or extra costs. I left my bike outside, and approached the other window with the employee to whom I had not yet spoken, and asked for a ticket. I may have looked nervous because I knew that she could ask me about my bike, upon which I would be obligated to pay for a ticket of authorization, but I stood my ground and tried to calm myself. Success!!! I got my ticket and went outside to get my bike, and sliding it through an alternate door, I was on my way back home. What an adventure!