Paris Samedi 30th

Poured with rain which gave us good sleep one and all, The unionists were again at breakfast.A a funny lot. All in workaday suits few ties and real shoes. One comes down and loudly gives a smacking great kiss on the cheek of his similarly shirted mate. Two others look on dourly as they greeted each other in french german cheerily. Like aussies they were. Vocifoous leaving a stillness behind them when at some previously agreed time they all bolted downstairs carrying huge half open briefcases

We split up today. I to meet people in the Lavage autmatique and Sheel's to buy stuff  The rain cleared through it all and with the sun came saturday markets cheer, tiny baby dogs walking eagerly hind their similarly statured  doll-like owners one of whose copy of  figaro bore  the dog's breakfast.

Pony dressed me very kindly in nice shades of grey Lacoste and now I can look chic like her.

Then to visit the La Maison  de la Europeen Photographie off the rue de Rivoli itself a marvelous thing.

http://www.mep-fr.org/

Very elegant space with the usual stairs tween galleries probs most old buildings turned galleries encounter.

Karl Largefield managed to make Nicole Kidman look absolutely shocked. What can he've told her as the uberlens caught it all? One gets the feeling that there is very little not on the agenda should one fall beneath Karl's silver coiffed gaze...

The wonderful vertical photos printed on silk and turned into fabulous dresses were great.

Kimiko Yoshida managed to disturb me with her at first self indulgent chalk white perfectly presented 1.5 mtre square self portraits arrayed with various stuff ..cool narcissistic and perfectly Parisienne.

Then a tiny packed resto l'elephant du nil" . 3 friendly girls to do the work of 5. Pasta Italian salad with spuds and weird yogurt frommage dripping with a honey so tasty it had the waitress licking it off her fingers a la Nigella. The chef came out and amused us with her hard Paris accent and a hidden smoke in her half  closed hand.

A walk past the jesuits church and college onto the Bastille and home.Lovely lovely day with autumnal sun and hot africa to look forward to. Tomorrow we start to pack up, shrink the bikes post the kitchen, and liberate the books....

Paris vendredi

 A crowded breakfast room after trumpeting unionists awakened us at 4 am   (tis their regular thing to do) made for a delicate start.

A 17 degree day sans niveaux was prevsioned so we set off cycling on one of our last available with the bikes unpacked. Down the Rue Port Royale past old hotel windows and on to the bouche de the Canal St Martin, on Paris Velo 8 and 9 which proved to be excellent paths sharing the bus lane most times or barrier ed off with a stone line from the traffic. It is a bit disconcerting riding down the middle of the Blvd in a bus lane marked  with a green velo with buses coming at one form the opposite side.

Along and along the pleasant tree lined canal to Place Stalingrad and then a bit further for a canal side coffee.
Where is the hot day? It can't be more than 10 all day with clouds and an icy wind.

We return down Paris velo 5 to pay homage to the fallen interred at Pere Lachaise.

Heloise and Abelard ( I insist she come first as it is her lettres that inspire lovers.....easily found under repair...Then Fred Chopin with masses of flowers anniversaire perhaps?, then Victor Noir whose pantaloons leave a little to the imagination, on past Oscar Wilde with his Jacob Epstein ediface covered with the graffiti and lipstick blooms and then finally a shiny stone marking Marcel Proust's. Remarkably simple for such a complex ecrivan.

Panini lunch outside and then a cold busy ride across the pont at Notre Dame and up the Luxembourg hill. Stopping to check cheese and buy moistener at the best natural health shop in Paris on the rue Moufftetard

Cycling this huge place is becoming a lot easier now that we know roughly the layout. I just burst along looking for landmarks. The little velo map helps but at least once a day I get it all back to front.. mostly around St Michel and Germain de Pres where old paris sports some wrinkles and one ways for cycles confound.

Tired showered and feeling hungry makes for a sweet finish to the day.

Paris Jeudi

Quai Branly what a truly wonderful collection exhibition, shop, restaurant and public storehouse come conservation areas..really really amazing. I want to work there. They have a proper respect, mases of colonial collection, a great atmosphere with helpful and lingual assistants and some really good curves and colours and plants. I really would be proud to work for a place like that. I guess the 4 main third world collecting areas all with a french history of dominion in one single gallery when there are 20 to exhibit Euro centric art throughout Paris should result in a comprehensive display, but even so this was tremendous. Showcasing, ramps,discreet areas for human remains, simple colour coding for navigation....superlative. I want to work there Doorman anything they are all so expansive and inspired with a spirit of welcome seriousness...

So we enjoyed the morning tremendously although headachy again 'cause of the newly painted roses in our chambre d'hote.

Then a short stroll to the bateau parisienne and a eurail cheapened hour long float down the Seine under some of its many ponts. Sunshine cool breezes great architecture seen from below always good to inspire humility and some french songs with school children (tis their congres vacation) to sing along with.....joyeaux bateaux.

Wobble on home on the Edgar Quinet line paying the on board accordionist for his renditions a monoprix diner with an excellent bordeaux and we've reached the heights that three years wait could not even begin to anticipate.

Today's glass framed Rover Thomas reminded me that our collections will son be sought after by many cultures as some of the primary images relating ancient and present day. Quai Branly would have to be one of the very best galleriies for so many reasons. Not only for the great vertical garden that greets one with its suppurating pockets of Elkhorns and moss.

Paris mercredi

La tour de montparnasse offers an excellent view of the cimitiere and our hotel and Soutine's parc in fact 200 metres up makes for an excellent view of just about all of it really. Wonderful 60's video and construction pics to cap it off made for an easy morning. The room's redecor left us both headachy.
The afternoon was spent shopping for pony shoes and jeans and involved an alomost surgical use of the metro. Hot sun great shoe saleslady in her own shop clip clopping around on 10:heels and pulling shoe boxes from their piles like opening drawers. Liked her child's teen respect for the older woman.

Then a nighttime metro to Mahi's place for dinner. Played Wii with marvelous kids and felt bad at undeclared vegetarianism, together with my broken french. All happy in the end as now everyone has wii. Mahi and here girls were all so welcoming and so disarmingly  interested in Sheila and making connections that I was really touched, It wiill be fun in Dakar and I hope that we can meet up again in Australia.

Late home and the tall scarlet clad black american who was politely cracking on to a trio of three loud black parisiennes....all's well until he has to get off the tram and they start to bag him out saying they would never give him a mobile number and how stupid he looked in his shiny red outfit with a flash over the shoulder bag made from shiny stars and stripes.....bitter laughter and so much so that another black male passenger had to loudly come to his defence and proclaim that he was without famille and meant no harm....whereupon the girls laughed even harder.....the world is filled with the trying...

Paris mardi

Blissful day.Ejected early to have the roses redone on our feature wall in the hotel. Returned and only smelt the difference. didier@clipso.com
Riding over Henri IV's bridge we saw a bike shop and emerged E 150's less later but with Pony's light windprroof top the one I've been waiting for for years now finally on her back.
 Then the Petit Palais after a walk in the Tuileries I'am always disappointed by the public sculpture and today proved no less so.

The portrait of Sarah Bernhardt made me realize what Berlioz was on about...Carrier B? made direct references with greyhounds which were overt to say the least. Then a brilliantly enigmatic and mona lisa smiling Voltaire by Houdin..really beautiful and touching portrait. I shall toast Houdin very soon.

Gustave Dore with his miles and miles of canvas covered with suffering souls prepared me for Rodin's and Dantes' Portes D'Enfer. Rodin has his own rose and a pretty tea thing tis too. A beer in the autumnal jardine soothed and the finale as we left having a gracious entree with the ICOM carte was Rodin's tribute to Victor Hugo. A fine trio. Hugo ignoring the advice of his duo of muses who are sad at his resistance to their whiles...his fingers outstretched like a bricklayer......... brilliant men both and much admired by society round here...
Burst home on the bikes via the PO in the building with the fastest elevators in Europe to Pakistani Kashmir dinner and bed. we are again so lucky to have this glorious opportunity to be amongst the treasures of centuries and the heroes and heroines of france.....

Paris Lundi

Sunshine, a piste cyclabile two comfortable unladen bikes and Paris. What more could one seek to vacation with? Well I guess the odd tart.....
Zooming down to the Tour Eiffel on Blvd Pasteur proved easy on our own lane.....losin it on the other side of town immediately made us aware of cars again as we splashed warily through flooded underground passages to cross roads upon which cars probably always go.
The Parc Monceau with it's quaint statues Chopin, Maupassant heroes one and all.....Aparently Marcel Proust liked to walk there beneath the 400 year old trees we liked it because it was green quiet and strange all at once........
Lunch on the champs elysees with a vivacious scarlet clad waitress...pates de jour tomate et creme.
Then down Paris velo 8 to Napoleon's ridiculously grand tombe and hospital for all the poor buggers who followed along. We started to view it but could not go on what with all the canon and the wheelbustin cycle lockup.
Onto Musee Rodin, closed Lundi wee stop and cafe and then a 20minute burst up the hill and we're back in the cave.......

Paris Dimanche

The stuffy old ICOM card worked its magic today enabling us to both to enter the Grand Palais by the side entrance and thence to see a great Monet exhibition. Really good display with curved walls and discrete greys. Comforting to see the stick on sign age peelin and the odd white tape on the terrible low plinths (also curved) to herald possible trip hazard. I was surprised to see carpet throughout albeit a very clean and new one....to cover the creaky old boards. Plentiful Monets 5 haystacks (ours again took the prize...and then some series of four or five houses of parliament or Rouen cathedral or house on beach at normandie working from the classical depiction through to the most impressionistic.... enjoyed the family scenes even though his initial troubles with anatomy belie a sense of French familiarity....huge show with over a 100 works and a credit to 50 years workin ....real treat for us today....my opinion of the man grew and grew and I was also impressed by the pulling power of the Curator and the national Art gallery of France.

Lunch, within sight of a life size bronzed Jefferson complete with American bill of Rights....and then a movie with french subtitles about the founder of facebook....was funny to watch all the Iphones facebooking before the start...

Dinner was wild not for the rain but a full on stand up tempete tween waiter and barman at the local. Glasses goin everywhere and much nodding and winking by the patrons....one of whom dryly suggested they must be married.....hahaha

Lovely day to have been able to see so much we really do have le bon chance.
Tomorrow a ride on a supposedly signposted unique sens (one way) bike path just inside the old city walls to see the Parc Monceau, Buttes Chaumont and old Abelard and Heloise in their fancy old tombe.

Paris Samedi

Rain blowing a storm outside the pub as we talked to a young aussie engineer. After a golden day with new vetements for Pony girl and new hair for us both. The young woman who couped my hair had been to Alice Springs and was concerned about the plight of Aborigines and where I stood. She was glad to hear of a female presidente.

The garbage magically removed itself by the time we tool to the streets in a cold wind under weak sunshine.
Laundry coin op to wash everything.
The Pompidou again to revisit Henri Laurens buried here in Montparnasse and the wonderful Juan Gris (s).
Funny how Juan Gris was making 2 dimensions into 3 and Laurens 3 into 2. His sculptures still have a back and a front to my mind even though the display at the pompidou is very generous with its showcasing.  Lunch a slice of Italian pizza and peroni standing with the girl from Ravenna.

We've taken on the hotel du parc for the week or so before Senegal and they seem open to the idea of storing the packed bikes in their cave for the 3 weeks we are away. This combined with our return of camping gear has left us travelling light so new fashion items were called for to warm the cockles.

We will still ride on fine days to visit Versailles  or Fontainbleu and around the city to visit La Chaisse and the Trocadero. The limitless musee are all sanctuaries in the rain, and the steep streets of Montmatre also call...

Bordeaux to Paris

Is it my conservative nature or the siren song of Paris that is stronger than the Gypsy rhythms of Spain that makes the thought of a week here so wonderful/ We can rest the cycling legs, have a myriad vego options instead of the de rigeur confit de canard and pay hommage to the great minds and hearts of histoire.

The Hotel du Parc right next to the Gare Mont 1and 2 as it appears on our tickets welcomed us home and agreed to put us up for the week and look after our bikes during our sojourn to Senegal. All for e90 odd a night. The room is bigger, the days consequently cooler and the bed comfortable. I willingly rest my head looking forward to riding the blvds in the weak sunshine and at every stop being enlightened by yet another glorious tribute  to heroines swept up by time but recalled in gold or marble or phrase or stained glass.

We spent the day en train because of the greve and met two young soldiers one of whom had connections with a Thai meditation group. How is it that Buddhists are not all vegetarian? I test all religious ethic now to determine their stance on eating their fellow creatures.....

We read on the train and are glad to simply stop for a while in order to recollect ourselves before wonderful Senegal hints of which we've encountered till now but none of which can truly prepare us for the rich tapestry of life and family that is Africa.... I'm so fufilled and intrigued to be able to return to Africa so easily and with love.

Cous cous and vegetables for dinner was perfect.

Vitrac port to Bordeaux

Waking to cold mists and omniscient dreams,( I imagined large crows scratching at paper ceilings and then sitting upon my chest) we decided to conclude the foie gras route and indulge ourselves as planned with a quick burst of spanish and witness the work of heroes Antonioni G and El Greco in Barcelona after initially presuming them out of reach through time constraint and the striking pensioners.

The mist lifted as we walked our bikes through steep but gorgeous country( literally farmer girl) and retraced our pedals to Sarlat station to find ourselves waiting in the thin and slowly befogged sunshine for 3 hours reading books and lunching on crispy bread grapes and h'uil olive, nutella spread on abricots and bio oranges.

The bus proved slow and amazingly balanced as it slipped over narrow bridges and crept under small archways.

The train was fast and free as it swept past Semillion the unesco heritage village.

We were welcomed back to the faisan in Bordeaux and had our room upgraded to celebrate again for free.

The cycling is lovely along the dordogne and the vezere and yet the context, history or art or ancient culture needs to be equally so to derive the best experiences/,,,,,the font de gaume creatures licking each other was a highlight...for us both..

Sarlat to Vitrac Port

The markets at Sarlat  proved excellent and we found grapes, ripe tomatoes, cheese and bread for the 8ks advised as our route.  We made our polite goodbyes to the japanese chef and his smokey bear of a wife. The son had made up a special song list for us the night before and transported us back in time. Really really lovely family and we missed being able to stay longer.

The road out of Sarlat proved beautiful sunny patches revealed green slopes, cool wet forests and the odd chateaux perigord noir style. A superb ride for 8ks reveled a rambling old hotel who were quite happy to give us the room for our stuff before 12. A snip at only e54 per night with legumes on the restaurant menu.

We then zoom off to experience the Domme baggage free, a slow mild hill up and a fast steep hill down 3ks each way. Lunch overlooking the Dordogne vallee was pretty good with German bus loads laughing at but also envying our piping hot cafes noir..

A short burst onwards past villages attached to cliff faces and intestinal gardens at the top of a steep hill. Then a swing back to a terrace under our window and some more glorious sun.

Optimism is funny stuff...today recovering from a cold and after three or four days of cold grey days the sun shone and made us feel really really good as we rode along suddenly without a care in the world.

Rest day in Sarlat

Its raining its pouring the old man is snoring he went to bed and bumped his head and couldn't get up in the morning....
Rest day in Sarlat. Laundry, bed sweet lunch together with Pony and an arvo walk to the strains of revolution. On the way some beautiful sculptures an unremarkable church and some inspirational cracked glazes...
Read about The earl of Suffolk's secret marriage to Mary Tudor Henry VIII's sister in of all places Cluny in Paris the old Roman baths converted to present day rose garden.
Remarkable how they practically imprisoned her to ascertain if she was to bear the next king of France for a month after Louis XII had died. And yet still she could secretly marry her childhood sweetheart..... great stuff for a rainy arvo in the village with the most medieval buildings  in Europe....
We are experiencing the first wintry days here and riding has challenged us both, with bleak days and an unpredictable rain or cold fog most days.....
We are working to return to Paris before Senegal and hope that the greve or strikes to determine the allocation of superannuation are resolved before the end of October. We both feel strongly for the marchers as their hard earned pensions have been eroded and they struggle to maintain the conditions for which they worked so hard.

Montignac to Sarlat de Caneda

Lightness of being..today with the help of a burley Montignac postie we sent home all of our camping gear. We are again each down to two rear panniers. Yay. The climate is cooling rapidly max 14 and is no longer the season to exercise my aunt.

The day was mostly forest so with attention we managed to avoid the Michelin chevrons (indicating variously sweat, tears, stroke territory). We dodged by way of red roads and river sides our way through unremarkable forest and fortified chateau to Sarlat de caneda . A friendly hotel with a bath (lukewarm however) and an afternoon sleep reassemble our humours.

Free net in the bar seems to be the go while all about is medieval village, Alienor of Aquitane's troubador world of old.

Les Eyzies de tayrac to Montignac

Sunday 17th October

The day starts foggy and ill throated. Packed and ready on the road by exactly on the road onto the sun edged vague was great. The Font de Gaume for which we await over an hour silently awaits us with its bison kissing and horses prancing. The cave is profound the height hugh and the artwork sophisticated and gentle. Who were our long distant moustier ancestors and why did they reach up on ladders with small oil lanterns to animate the walls with already extinct species?  Cro Magnon art is deeply satisfying.
Out and off up a 2.3k moderate climb which warms especially as the day is now cloud and cold 5 -7 degrees.
We reach la Roc Christophe and find omelettes and frites to warm ourselves width amidst an autumnal forest with a million leaves falling.
Onwards to complete our 26k day along the vezere missing the little Michelin chevron denoting steep hill. It seems like 4ks and is steep. Our reward is a steady downhill through a delightful green forest along a rushing stream studded with chateaux and farm houses.
We reach Monignac to find it covered with literally thousandes of plastic flowers on strings over every street park, building or bridge…could they have known we were coming?
The locals are tired of the festival attire having had the fete long ago in July.
The hotel has a bath which we both use to wash us and our socks. It is a delight rare and requires ingenuity to empty.
Dinner is delicious the best en France.
We resolve as the temperatures are now predicted to be at night below 7 to refrain from camping and send the aunt home, or give her away should her fright prove more than her worth.
The joy of reducing our load to two light panniers each makes for light hearted mirth over the obligatory Bergerac…2006 this time.
Lets hope la poste works on Lundi’s lest our mirth be on the wrong side of our faces. The hill to Lascaux which we will circumnavigate is rated at Michelin 3 chevrons and 17% ie 17 meters up per 100 along….granny gear material…..

Les Eyzies de tayrac

Waking to rain. After a fine petit dejeuner consisting simply of a  sizable jug of black coffee, crispy bread and butter my mood is improved. Caves can still be explored in the rain....but ah non the Font de Gaume rated two star Michelin was closed Saturday and open Sunday. Ride off we are told to walk only a kilometre to see the grand Roc which is open .....after three ks in the rain and cold to boot nous arriverons only to find also closeeed despite all the literature claiming otherwise.
So a pretty damp and coolish walk along the Vezere with loud birds for company under colossal lowering cliffs of limestone we are relieved to be away from cities.
The next musee is closed until two, our siesta sweet and warm.
The national musee dedicated to les Moustier is grand and absolutely filled with millions of small flint flakes and bones and vaguely scratched rocks and more bones. Cro magnon man waves his arms on the roof again under a lowering sky of limestone mixed with rain.
We try the Tourisme office for Internet and are told of the Hotel Centenaire..(.in fact we are rung ahead for introductions) and upon arrival find a $200 a night palace with trees growing inside and grand pianos everywhere...we declare our touriste office credentials and are whisked inside to a great salle de reste with free internet and 15 euros drinks and endlesspiped guttural jazz pianists. Very swish.
Tomorrow an attempt with full bikes to see the wonderful poly chromatic bulls of Font de gaume and perhaps even Montignac only 27ks away.

We read of storms lashin our family's homes and hope all is well.

Bordeaux to Les Eyzies deTtayrac all day

Friday 15th  Nov Bordeaux to les Ezyies de Tayrac

The night was filled with the howls of abandoned youth as we  attempt rest in the Hotel de Faison a long john silver of a parrot woodenly represented behind the very helpful receptionist.
The bikes are retrieved after an excellent breakfast with the strangest system for eggs seen yet. A large toaster like receptacle with roundels for eggs is available and ignored by us aussies who expect our eggs to be boiled for us at 800000 euros a pop. However the Bordelais are onto us cyclists who all emerge with extra testicles (usually unbearably hot) bow legged and grunting to their well hidden mirth. Not today, the eggs were found (luckily by droppage and not in the usual way) to require the egg broiler machine to enable their successful purloinment.

The train station was surrounded by armed police checking identity papers and still en greve (strike) An overly friendly SNCF lady ruins our reputations and takes us to the head of the line by stealing my credit card and waving it in the air telling the massive and  now scowling queue that we had velos and so were to be afforded the luxury of not waiting an hour in line. By the end of it I was not sure if we should be grateful or sad as the eye daggers were numerous and accompanied by dark mutterings. I could only hope that we were not accompanied on our uncertain sojourn by any of the hunderd odd souls we’d so complicity stood up.

Was it to be a bus or a train? Perigueux or Le Boussinm? no one could tell us and the billet was equally blank in critical areas despite it’s 40euro price tag. We pop back to the Pirate birds and retape in a short lived but glorious white, Pony’s handlebars. We have fun together in the sun playing handle bar twister.

Then back to the autocar stop at the derrierre of the station only to be told at the last 6 minutes that it was really to be  a train and vite vite. As we race down the undertrain 70’s brown tiled corridors expecting stairs we discover a ramp and then a train set up for bikes 300 miles down the binario.

Perigueux  proves to have a grand tower, a helluva busy road through its guts, an overly short river side bike path and a friendly waiter at the railway café. Will the next legs bus chauffeur allow bikes?. All the authorities shake their heads with simultaneous ahhh non’s and  pas possible‘s. We resolve to try to charm the bus driver and then stay overnight to ride to the Lazy Grotte if unsuccessful. The driver of the 17th bus turns out to be a grand fellow and agrees from the start to accept our bebagged bikes, helping Pony in with her new white handlebars, even removing her front wheel with a skill born of many such occasions. We thank him profusely and jump aboard to be dumped unceremoniously in the most quiet and hugely limestone be cliffed country lane ever an hour later. Whew we’ve made it to the start of a couple a weeks ride through southern France, our last expedition before Afrique and the wonders of Senegal and Mali.

Ps We saw on our way up the station’s derrierre the following crazy scene. Two men working to put a missing L (2ft high lit up) into Hote on the wall of a building at about three stories high. Nothing remarkable you may say except of course for the fact that they were supported on a ladder ontop of a tall topped van parked in the street without any PPE or barriers. I’d have instantly lost my job back home had I engaged in a tenth such bravado.

Bordeaux

Another rest day in Bordeaux. The strike means that our train trip to les Ezyies de Tayrac has to wait another day as it is uncertain whether the bus will accept bikes. Well another day in Bordeaux is not so bad. We change hotels after a sleep in and make our way to the railway end of town. A pique nique  on the banks of the Garonne in warm sun enables a nice rest for Pony on a park bench. Then a leisurely ride the length of the esplanade before the second piano of the musee aquitaine. Then home for another rest in our new hotel, the bikes safely locked at the bottom of a five story stairwell along with rubbish... more strike action..

The display today of the relics of slavery was disturbing.

Breakfast at a Paul's outlet was delicious.
Slowly health is returning to Pony's nose with the help of some decongestifs. Tomorrow we will try again for the grottes de lascaux.

Rest day in Bordeaux

Rest day today in grand Bordeaux Aliennor of Aquitane's fine town.
We accomplish, laundry, maps for the days ahead, bicycle adjustment, and bar tape, ukele dreams,train timetables, Contemporary art m Bordeaux architecture modern Musee Acquitane  all free thanks to ICOM card, a huge gothic church, a clock tower and bike maintance....then a fine vego pizza made by Italians followed by a creme brulee par excellence...all in all a really good rest day...

Bellegarde to Paris and beyond...

Tuesday 11 or 12th Oct
Today was one never to forget…….starting in Bellegarde against all the odds and with the help of the gods we  travel from Bellegarde near Geneve to Bordeaux despite a nation wide  government services strike.
We wake in a small place much like he opening scenes of the stalker and the manager refuses to say bonjour despite his wife’s urgings. Only after I work my French does he come across grudgingly. Then to the lonely station dawning over an autumnal scenne cliffs of sun touched turning birch, sunlit houses and a rusty train station being renewed….
The ticket office is ferme I suspect nothing…
The train arrives and we are  told that there is a nationwide strike and that our connection in Paris is touch and go., We have 1 hour and 16 minutes to get from Gare de Lyon right bank to Montparnasse 1+2 Rive Gauche. No Metro no buses n high taxi demand and disruption to services is what we are told. The guard laughingly suggest we ride as everything else will be pas possible…..

Pony is sick with a throat infection and we are trying every alyernative to alleviate extra duress. To no avail we must unpack the bikes load the baggage and ride across town only to reverse the process all in I hour and 16 minutes. I’m confident knowing the route and not quite comprehending the democratic process a la Paris……but hope that it is not a burden on my travelling companion..we resolve to stay en paris should the trains be kaput or gone by the time we get there...wonderful to have such freedom  .Pony bravely agrees to ride across town….after the rest day in Evian there is a need to cycle in us both....

We arrive with 6  extra minutes in hand  god given….we unpack and reassemble the bikes in a record 10. We then take off to the Seinne from Gare de Lyon.
Sirens everywhere and large police vans with lights bl;ocking streets .. We plough on down the Quai Henry IV bike path…..less traffic than usual and the  police are everywhere arround the Bastille….
We cross the palais pont in front of the terrible tower where they tortured Marie and her child the Roi de France….Treess against sun obscure my view and a taxix is all of a sudden in  my path ..I brake with enough time not to hit but the experience slows us down a bit….
Then on and up BLvD St michel, Pony suggest the time to turn on from behind and we roar up almost empty street (for Paris anyway)…The we see the police blocking the end of Blvrd Montparnasse….our station is at the end..can we pass yes why not…and then it dawns on me…Montparnasse is empty and we are riding down a huge empty boulevard…..far off is bright colours and huge noie…a manifestation…through which we must pass….we duck across to a nearby  rue ….
More people loud banging cheering whistling crowds thousands of people are all about us….we are trying to go against the surge of noise and orange colours…there are fascisti also near by trying the same thuing whistles and boos fololw us….pamphlets trhust into our hands and Pony finds the side of barriered street to forge ahead.. I see her far off and wonder will we be separated… the clock insists…..
I plough through as far away from the fascisti as possible… I carch up as we go past tablse with petit noir drinking observeres…the roar intensifies as we reach the Tour Montpanasse..therr are bands with great rythyms and good  rhymes in the back of vans being broadcast all over Paris….
We reach an eddy and land in front of the Tour.
 Now where is La gare? A bloke laughs and suggest that it has been bombbed and pas existe….then a woman directs us…..I assits Pony up the escalator and onto the main playform and then return to get my abandoned kit…..
We still have 10 minutes a kind souls suggests as we run down the length of the train to Voiture huit….
The we repack the bikes…I breathe deep thinking that we have still time when Pony wakes me up with some kind women who grab everything loose and we are suddenly whoosh behind closed doors and in a pile in the TGV answering to a complaining conducteur…
Now Bordeaux which is grimy and self interested and yet has very cheap very nice red wine which we are enjoying. Pony is breathin deeply  now and I will be soon.. Thanks to all good and kind energies for today which I thought was pas possible and yet somehow came to be……

Evian to Bellegarde via St Gervais

Today started with a really open hearted and smiling encounter with a Patisseierie who shook my hand and vowed "Vive the difference' when I pointed out the only mineral water in his frigo was Perrier the "other" brand and then we decided vive la France was a better term especially as we'd just spent two nights in la France 'otel.
I've really enjoyed Evian even if the rides were out and back and steep, the place has some good memories and a beautiful mist descends.
So unabashed we push our bikes up the hill to the gare intending to reach Geneve and pursue our original goal of cycling in the south of France as did i mention that 13 degrees are predicted for Evian this week? Arriving with an hour to spare we queue only to be told the train is broke and to frantically get into a bus which is already late...haha are we getting good or what we had the bikes underboard the bus in 3 minutes and were onboard in less than another...off to Annamasse where the bus ride ends after some very tight and busy highway which I'm glad we did not venture upon...only to board the wrong train haha well the right train going to the wrong place as Sheila's says....After an hour and a half of wonderful scenery and lying down room on the rather empty train we reach the terminus way up in the snowy alps....way up......and yes the train is returning to Bellegarde which is where we actually have to be to get to Bordeaux via Paris.....well how to be psychic even when you can;t understand a word of it.....
Two star in Bellgrarde 50mtres from the sterile and very new and wonderfully big station we are now within reach tomorrow of Bordeaux providing that is that spychic intervention does not occur again....
On the way we are greeted by the crazy conducteur with lime green glasses who'd run yes run across South america with only a backpack for company....next run Australia so we were of interest for a 20 minute conversation. Then the cool Chamonix para glider who offered to show us laptop videos of his friend falling to his death at a recent competition.....hang gliding competitions whoee you can keep that one. I'd rather work my way around mineral water lakes with famous people sculpted in bronze all the way around....and now to discover la Stupenda was only minutes away as we rode and she fell...we shall toast her lovely voice and good humor tonight.....

Evian

The waters are used by locals to water plants and the thermal spring is used to fill of all things evian bottles The town is old with Roman origins and a grandiose with an elaborate pump house and funicular which it needs as everywhere are hills except the lake side which has a fast N series road without our customary swiss bike lane.

A rather good photography exhibition bestial in nature at the Palais Lumiere (he lisved down the road) Joel Peter Witkin and some sad ones too. Made me proud to be a vegetarian.

After adjusting Sheila's derallier together with the aid of Cycling France lonely planet I scoot off to investigate alternative routes for the morrow. A day spent climbing and descending some >12% hills zooming past the Evian factory which dwarfs the town then  a pain o chocolate is called for and a stroll through the bijoux together.

Everyone is preparing for the winter snow in this place....time to get down south to Bordeaux and descend into the ancient illustrated caves.