Distance 155k
Time 6:54
Climb 1525
Weather Sunny and a bit of wind
Had a good nights sleep but on waking found that rather strangely no water was coming out of any taps or the shower. Thought it may be a problem with my room so dressed and went downstairs where I found the manager (and chef) talking animately on the phone. I was soon joined by some other guests with same lack of water problem. When he put the phone down the manager explained that he had just been talking to the mayor. Apparently a pump had broken somewhere and this had stopped water flowing to a section of the town. It was being fixed and should be back on tap within an hour or so.
I must say this quite impressed me. Firstly that the hotel manager could know who to contact, secondly that they could pick up the phone and speak to them and, even more impressively, that they would know about the problem and say when it was going to be fixed. This seemed like quite a good system and might be worth considering in the UK.
The manager suggested we have breakfast, by the end of which normal service should be resumed on the water front. So we did and it was. Very impressive.
Suitably showered I checked out. The manager/chef must have appreciated my appreciation of French fromage as he said he was not charging me for the extra cheese course I ate last night. Very nice of him. I left in a good mood, stopping only to pop into a local shop for my habitual supplies of croissants and some food for the journey.
The ride was uneventful. The weather continued to show signs of improvement, with sunny spells more frequent than cloudy ones. There were one or two heavy showers about but the countryside was so flat that I could see them well in advance and plot my course to avoid them.
I reached Caen, but decided against going into the town centre, instead taking a detour round it. This marked the next major turn point of my trip as I would now start seriously heading due south, which apart from promising warmer climes, also meant that the wretched head wind would increasingly be a thing of the past.
My route took me through Pont D'Ouilly in the area of, appropriately for me, Suisse Normande.
Pont DOuilly info
More Pont Info
As the name suggests this town had a bridge (though over the river Orne not the Ouilly) and as I passed over it the view of the river below was so idyllic that the tourist overtook the cyclist and I had to stop. I negotiated, with some difficulty, the steps down to the river bank and spent happy half hour there, eating my food, taking in the view and generally feeling very good about the world.
I restarted and took a scenic tour through Normandy. As I passed along a country land a sign caught my eye. It advertised farm cider for sale. My bidons were close to empty and it seemed somehow appropriate to top them up with some local brew. So I went down the farm track and found a small cidery. The shop/stockroom was open but no-one appeared to be about. I stomped about and made some noise, then shouted a bit. No-one appeared. There were several thousand bottles (of cider and calvodos) on view and a price card so I thought maybe I was meant just to help myself and pay for what I took. I was just about to do this when the cider maker appeared. He was very friendly but somewhat bemused that a cyclist would want to buy some bottles. However eventually he understood and laughed as I topped up my bidons. He advised me against the doing the same when I got to Bordeaux as the police did not take too kindly to drunk cyclists.
Refuelled I set off again. One thing I had not thought of when filling my bidons was that cider is bubbly. After a few kilometres or less than smooth farm lanes therefore I was surprised to feel a sudden explosion of warm liquid between my legs. My first worry was that all this cycling had had unfortunate effects on my bladder but I then realised that the cider in one of my bidons had been shaken up so much it had reached critical pressure and blown the top off. Luckily there was a simple and enjoyable remedy to this. I drank enought cider from each bidon to leave room for expansion and carried on, a bit the merrier despite/because of having a sticky patch in my cycle shorts.
Eventually I reached Domfront, my resting place for the night. At first sight the Logis did not look particularly welcoming, being on the main road and not a very special building.
But in fact it turned out to be one of my more pleasurable hotel stays. Firstly it was run by a husband and wife couple who seemed to argue with each other constantly, but you got the sense that they had probably done so happily for all their married life and would probably continue to do so for the rest of their days. The wife was also an ardent anti-smoker. Strangely, for France, their hotel was completely "non-fumeur" with signs to this effect all over the place. On first glance the restaurant and menu did not seem very special either but in fact the food, cooked by the husband, was excellent. Classic, simple cooking with a strong local theme and ingredients. I am afraid I was not brave enough to try the tripe but had a lamb shank in beans that was delicious and enhanced by being served on an earthenware plate with a lid with a steamhole, that I had never seen anywhere before. To celebrate this lucky find I had a few more bottles of cidre....
Domfront Site
One thing that surprised me at the days end was how many metres I had climbed during the day. France was proving to be hillier than I had expected.
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