In which Sid and Doris ride along the Tarn to an even older hotel, a former abbey.
The Hotel du Pont, where we started the day, was founded by a soldier coming back from Napoleon’s Russian campaigns (after 1812 then) and setting up a restaurant where people waited for the (bac, a rowing boat) ferry across the Tarn. It has been kept running across seven generations.
[For fellow geeks I have included the famous graph of Napoleon’s march on Moscow as eulogised by Edward Tufte, who will also sell you a very nice poster version. The picture has a link to his site #shamelessplug. – D.]
On our way along the Tarn we went through our longest tunnel yet, at 965 metres, and one that fortunately cyclists were allowed to use (not that that has stopped us yet). [These tunnels have a very interesting effect on the day’s height profile, as the software assumes that they go over the hills rather than through them. So the day’s actual height, as correctly recorded from the GPS at tunnel entrance and exit, is rather less than the predicted amount. Hooray! Free pedalling! – D.]
We are now into the Brick Belt of France. If you can build it, you can build it of brick – you will see a certain brickish theme to the pics for the next couple of days. We like Albi and paused to deal with three Ps: pharmacy, post and pies. We have a drugs refit, send away maps of Italy and Spain, and have a small second breakfast in an elegant and of course (see?) brick built square.
Albi pretends to have bike lanes, but they are not quite as wide as the bike lane stencil even with squashed tyres, and definitely not as wide as a laden bike.
In case we see no better conveyance Doris homes in on the carousel; say what you like about the French, they do a good carousel, no traditional town square is without one. Actually there was a better vehicle, a Dodge command car, presumably left behind in a ditch, now done out in a Stars and Stripes paint job and sadly not recorded on our cameras.
The Bonkers progress is also brought to a halt again as we rush back to photograph this crane. We are not entirely sure why, it has become some sort of Pavlovian response to anything that is completely unexplained but strangely attractive. [Like me. – D.]
That was at Rivieres, shortly before we see a monument to the dead from the FFI resistance. The allies landed in Provence on 15th August. The plaque tells the story of how in August 1944 40 French resistants ambushed a column of 300 Germans on their way to Carmaux and held up the column for long enough it was too late for the fight which involved about 2000 resistants and 2,500 Germans. Fifteen of the 40 died. Carmaux town received the Croix de Guerre.
Looking for lunch we find this street sign, to give two heroes in one sign, though the General may not appreciate his left pointing arrow being more in tune with tonight’s Capucins than with many of the communist (and even Spanish Anarchist) resistants.
We stop to eat the goodies at Salvagnac where there is a shop selling all sorts of local artisanal food, together with a handy parking and orchard to consume them in. Doris chose this excellent Mojito juice drink, glug glug burp.
This evening in Montauban we are staying at L’abbaye des capucins. In 1629 Cardinal Richelieu set up the abbey to try to bring the Protestant town back to Rome. During the Revolution it was closed down, used as a jail and then a wool spinning mill. In 1824 a bishop was transferred from Boston, Mass (see what Sid did?) to Montauban who started the building that was a seminary until 1957, with time out during the wars to be a hospital. Until the late 20th century it was a lycee and is now a hotel. We have stayed in a prison before on this trip.
We find Montauban has been dug up as part of a Create a Lovely New Centre project. It is a handsome little town with a beautifully cloistered brick built square.
To celebrate our decision not to go to Santander Sid and Doris will perversely go out to eat tapas. This area has other Spanish connections that we will see in a few days’ time. We finish with some more bricky pictures of the town and its excellent bridge.
