Day Two, Tuesday 28th December 2004.
The brief for whoever designed the cabins must have been to cram as much into as small a space as possible! The bed whilst long enough was as narrow as it was possible to make it before it qualified as a washing line! With the rolling action, I was constantly woken by some part of me coming into sudden and not too gentle contact with the bulkhead. At 5.00 am I gave up. After washing and dressing I immediately felt as though I could fall asleep again but resisted the temptation as there was only half an hour to the wake-up call.
Clutching my helmet, jacket and tank-bag, I made way way to a seating area near an automatic door leading to the outside deck where I met Clive and Bert shortly. Whenever anyone walked near the automatic door, it would open and leave everyone in no doubt how cold it was and just how strong the Atlantic winds were!
It wasn't too long before we were called to the car deck. I always think this is the worst part of ferry crossings. Usually after a rough time and a lack of sleep the last thing I need is the fug and fumes of the car deck while unlashing the bike.
We were off the ferry on time (7.00 am) to a cold, dark and wet Roscoff. It wasn't raining but the roads were quite wet as we left the ferry port at 7.30 am and started out for Bordeaux.
Clive had programmed his SatNav to avoid major routes and select the most direct course so the rest of us were very happy to follow.
We headed almost due South on some 'D' roads, very rural, little or no traffic, sometimes the roads were little more than tracks but were perfect for GS's. On virtually any other type of bike the route would have been at best tedious and at worst quite difficult but big trail bikes such as the GS range with it's fairly soft long travel suspension, upright riding position, good ground clearance and good spread of torque meant that as the dawn came up we were treated to some lovely scenery instead of the usual motorway views. Within a few km's we were away from the ferry port scramble and I don't remember seeing another UK registered vehicle until the route back from Barcelona.
Another advantage of the route chosen by Clive was that we were in the main sheltered from the cold Atlantic winds that were battering the Bretagne peninsular and as it was quite cold, the relatively low speeds allowed visor up riding a lot of the time, thereby avoiding the bane of winter motorcycling - peering through a misted visor!
Breakfast in Lorient. Clive (working out the best way to eat croissant!), Bert, Tiffany, coffee, hot chocolate & Pain au chocolat.
Bert being half French and fluent led me and Clive to a sigh of relief but I suspect that Tiffany who can make herself much more than understood wasn't quite so relieved.
Breakfast done, toilets visited, cigarettes smoked (me and Clive) we were back on the bikes in the general direction of Nantes still following Clive and his "cross country" route.
As we had set ourselves a 450+ mile first leg in order to get as far South as quickly as possible, there wasn't much time for photography.
Most of my concentration at this time was settling in to riding on the Conti TKC 80s in wet/damp conditions with a fairly well laden bike. My SatNav into which I had set a different route from Clive's before leaving home kept announcing "Off route, recalculating" to the point where I switched it off and just listened to a mix of Cockney Rebel, The Kinks and Bryan ferry/Roxy Music and just enjoyed the ride.
We had agreed earlier to stop every 100 miles or so. The cold can easily lead to loss of concentration and just a few minutes off the bike is enough to restore spirits.
The 1200's have a fuel range of about 200 miles, the F650 around the same and my Adventure around 300 (obviously without panniers and loads, further is possible on all the bikes). The extra 100 mile range (due only to the much larger tank) was superfluous in these conditions in terms of non-stop distances. The only benefit was that I didn't need to fuel up as often but most of the time I would top-up just because I don't enjoy what Jeremy Clarkson calls fuel gauge lottery.
Even with the heated grips on full heat and hand shields, pulling on gloves that had been toasting on the engine after fuel stops was very good for moral.
Tiffany and Clive both use a heated jacket under their outer jacket. Tiffany has heated gloves too and Clive has muffs over the hand shields. I was generally warm enough at this stage and had my lightweight two piece over-suit as an additional layer if needed. Bert was similarly clothed to me, relying on multiple layers of micro-fibre for insulation.
As the day wore on we decided to hit some of the less obscure roads and make for La Rochelle to have a late lunch. The N137 was running through the Parc Natural Du Marais Poitevin and bounded by dykes. At one point there was a dead otter beside the road. I wasn't sure until later that it was an otter but Tiffany who I saw had spotted it too, confirmed it was when we stopped. It was a shame to see something so rarely seen only as 'roadkill'.
La Rochelle was a U-boat base during WWII and now it seems to be completely oriented towards sailing. There are many new and expensive looking Atlantic facing apartment buildings, many marinas and like all yachting related places it reeks of money.
We spotted somewhere that looked open and dispatched our linguist, Bert, to find out if we could get something to eat. Within a short time we were seated in a Cafe'/Bar and food was ordered.
Three steaks and frites, (me, Clive and Bert), some vegetable doings for Tiffany, soft drinks, tea and coffees saw us restored and ready to make our start on the last leg towards Bordeaux.
Heading South on the N137 we quickly covered the ground to Saintes, maintaining a steady 120-130 kph (true) saw us into Bordeaux country where at Saintes we again took to more rural roads. Saintes itself is a very attractive town of warm Sandstone buildings some of which are built from the living rock running alongside the river Seugne. Even though it was dark by now, I was struck by the architectural difference between here and Britany.
It was a shame that there was insufficient time to stop but at least I have one more target for my tour!
We arrived at the Holiday Inn, Bordeaux, at 8.00 pm having covered 464 miles since leaving Roscoff, the bikes were parked in the gated underground car park then it was shower, shave, beer and dinner.
The hotel was clean and efficient, suitable for a quick over-night. The food not really what you'd call Haute Cuisine!






























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