The Rhine

Much belated greetings to you all. I have been regrettably silent over the recent months and in many ways fallen off the horse with this blog. I passed an awkward time barrier a couple of months ago where I've been unsure how to get back on and get things going again. Many of you still don't know which country I'm in, as I felt the announcement should come from here first and never quite got around to it. I almost feel I owe you an apology, except that, where are your blogs? So never mind then.

Still, it has pained me not to share with you. In many ways, I have not known where I have been going myself. But sitting in my parents' home in Auckland now I'd like to fill in the gaps and tell you about the time I cycled the Rhine. I believe that's where I left off.

I've often begun narrating a beautiful segment in my head about how, "High in the Swiss Alps, beneath unimaginable tonnes of pressure, a trickle of clear, cold water emerges to begin a journey of more than a thousand kilometres to the North Sea; a journey that for more than two millennium has divided Europe and defied the mightiest of conquerors. A source of life and death, forever keeping fertile the rich plains of Western Europe but forever fought over... Yadda yadda... Eloquently paraphrased history and such..."

I'm sure it would have been great, but in a break from my usual format I've put together a video which I've decided to share with you. It was actually made for those four stalwart companions who cycled the Rhine with me - Nathan, Emma, Nikki and Corbin - but it took so much energy to create that I can no longer be bothered editing a more public-friendly version for the rest of you. Thus, you will see things you shouldn't and receive thanks you don't deserve. It wasn't a well thought out video, just a collection of photos and GoPro shots that I discovered I'd collected over a kick-ass soundtrack. Certainly this format isn't my strongest, but I think it's beautiful and gives a glimpse into the journey we undertook.

I say glimpse... But it's 10 minutes long. So perhaps save it until you've got time for a warm brew or a reluctant poo and come on a journey with me down the Rhine...

VIDEO DOWN FOR MAINTENANCE SORRY

All my many friends

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The Loire

Going back a few weeks here... The Loire River is France's longest, covering 1012km from source to sea. It's famed for its wine, its many castles and its historic importance as one of France's most important highways of old, as well as marking the border between France and England for over one hundred years when the English occupied northern France. It also hosts a well worn cycling route and was the logical way for me to head east from Nantes in the general direction of Amsterdam.

The Batts on the trail from Nantes.

I initially set out just hoping to use the path to cover distance in a reasonable time and was still feeling very travel-worn after the shock contrast of home-life I'd experienced in Nantes. Nathan and Emma accompanied me for the first 25km on borrowed bicycles before parting to meet again in Holland. It was a beautiful start but after they'd gone I found myself sapped of energy and motivation, giving in on the first night to the pampering of a nice room with dinner and breakfast provided when that is no longer healthy for my declining budget. I tried checking into a large campground the next night to make friends and found myself the sole occupant; still too early in the season for the french to camp, apparently. I was giving in to 3 hour lunch breaks with rain coming and going and not getting much distance behind me.

The lonely sentinel; still standing watch.

It's strange what sticks out to us sometimes and finally motivates a change in attitude or direction. For me it was this guy. After an unreasonably long lunch break by the river and settling back into the saddle I watched a very old chap, presumably 80 plus, help his wife out of the car into a wheel chair. She was worse for the shared age and they struggled but eventually got her into place. He then pulled the back half of a bicycle out of his boot and fitted it onto the wheelchair. Fitting them both with helmets, he mounted and set off at a slow and leisurely pace, using what little strength he still possessed to take his wife out for the afternoon and enjoy the beauty outdoors.

This caused three notable reactions in me. The first was a stark confrontation of the loneliness that had been plaguing me. It was such a beautiful and moving picture of companionship that I could not help but be aware of my solo circumstances. But the second was an admonishment that I couldn't let that hold me back from enjoying life. This man's efforts against his failing strength to bring his wife out to enjoy the place I was in really showed me what it was worth in his eyes and challenged me to be grateful for my surroundings and not rob myself of that appreciation, but to love myself and savour the experiences I was having. It just shouted, "Life is so good Scott! Take a look at it!" The third was a mild irritation of my eyes that induced a brief increase in saline production.

After that I found the energy that had been missing in my legs, pushing myself along fervently but also finding so much more to stop and look at, exploring castles, vineyards and wine cellars cut into caves in the hillsides. I kept up the long lunch breaks but saw them as a chance to excitedly explore french cuisine rather than refuel my legs and dodge poor weather. I regained the momentum I'd known along the Danube river last year and stopped using France to reach Holland, instead using my need to reach Holland as an excuse to explore France.

Being a fan of jugs, I appreciated this.

Great little winery that let me explore their caves.

Very grand and french, I thought.

Looking over the Loire from Chateau d'Amboise.

Farmstead where I camped one night.

It was begging for my hammock.

I can still think of no better way to see a country than cycling. If you fancy a not too difficult week or two of doing just that in France, then I highly recommend the Loire river. You can join it in Orleans, 100km south of Paris and slowly work your way down the river to Nantes. I, of course, was working my way up hill but even then found it flat, easy going. When you're not enjoying grand old cities like Amboise, popular 16th century residence of the French royals, you'll find yourself coasting through timeless countryside where little seems to have changed in the last 200 years. 

One such aforementioned place.

Orleans seemed absolutely deserted...

Apart from this marching band.
It appeared to be FRANZAC Day, or something like that...

CASTLES aka CHATEAUS of the Loire:

Chateau in Nantes.

Chateau in another place.

Maybe the same Chateau... Poor record keeping.

Definitely a different Chateau to the last.

Totally Rapunzel! Right?

Er, um, another castle... Chateau means castle.

The royal residence sitting on top of the Amboise castle.

SCULPTURES

I'm told the french government gave many millions of dollars to various artists to create sculptures all along the Loire. Although I recall seeing many, it seems I didn't make the effort to photograph any but these two:

Quite a thought-provoking human head. A paradox of frailty and grandeur.

My best guess is two monopoly houses having sex.