Happy Birthday RV!!!

Past midnight here in France, RV has just celebrated his birthday with the opening of a gift from his family I secretly brought over from Dublin last week and one from me...I'll let RV decide if he tells you what THAT was hehe.

Rv got a little emotional but was very surprised I had set my mobile to ring at 12AM. His smile said it all.




Happy 25th Birthday!!!



-RV Girl
Listening to Sufjan Stevens

Sunday Morning

RV is snoring. We had a late night, again. It has only been a few days since we've been back from Dublin.

Believe it or not, we have only had half of the total time since mid-August truly alone together. We treasured our few hours before sunrise in our room the first 2 weeks as it was the only opportunity to be together in privacy. The summer month brought a couple of welcome visitors and we are expecting another end of September. Let's say my flat isn't the largest or the most sound proof but things time has gone by quickly with much fun and great friendship despite our need for couple time.

The funny thing is that it was only this morning that I really felt as if we were "together". I like to bother my fellow sleepers as I have really skewed cycles of sleep and as I jumped on RV, I looked at his peaceful face and realised that it really was true. He lives with me...we are together at last. Living side by side is so easy between us I often have to step back in surprise, even to this day.

RV will be another year older tomorrow too so ofcourse I have something planned. I can't splurge on anything extravagant but I think he will appreciate my little gift...

Poor bike has been totally neglected since August and I think we will have to wait until we find our new home in the next month before RV and I can actually feel as if we aren't in transit. In the meantime, we create little by little. I often wake up to his funny, fantastic DIY creations. We even made this funny sponge insulation for this contraception box I like to use as a change purse. We have so many plans, I cannot wait to get onto that over the winter.

Oh, and the festival was brilliant. Great music and atmosphere. We really pushed our alcohol consumption and also met some great characters. Namely that crazy South African who helped us revive and ridicule (hehe) an 18 year old kid vomiting his guts out from a couple of beers and absinthe! We had a great time! The brief family stuff was fun too. RV really has it good, they are so sweet and it was quite sad to see them off as it was the final goodbye for RV with all the remaining things he packed to come with me. I remember before I would joke each time I had to leave Dublin and ask him to come with me and I usually got the same reply, "I wish I could". This time it was, "OK".



- RV Girl
Listening to Mogwai

Stay Tuned 4 Foto Essay:-)

Ok two weeks have passed and you may have noticed there havent been any posts I feel I should explain. When I arriving in Lyon I was in a pretty poor state, exhausted both physically and mentally. I spent the first few days catching up on world events, sleeping and getting familiar with my girl again before embarking on a week or more of heavy drinking, heavy smoking and what was certainly heavy eating. I topped this off with a three day music festival which I flew back to Ireland for (Didnt see the tent till sunrise every morning and amid thirty thousand people I managed to run into quite a few familiar faces all of whom had heard rumours of my trip, you see I actually didnt tell many of my friends, I had my reasons I hope you understand). This trip also allowed me to pick up my laptop and camera cradle so shortly I will be uploading a couple of blurry quatlity pix.

My next mission is to morph this blog in order to keep it alive but rest assured it will still be cycling themed. I feel I will find plenty of material here in the city I have made my new home. The french are crazy about cycling, Lyon even has a public bike program which I plan to write more about later.

Day 8 Part 2.

I set my alarm for six in the morning hoping that the french family would be gone so they would not have to be subjected to my alarm in the sleeping compartment of the train but when I woke to the alarm they were still there, poor guys. I rose early an hour before my train was supposed to arrive at lyon which was a good decision as the train was half an hour early which left me wondering as to what would happen if you stated asleep, would you wake up in Switzerland? In a total mess by this stage I dragged my bike and bags off the train and reassembled my travelling equipment in th estation to begin my next mission which was to find my girls apartment in Lyon. I departed the station and immediatly headed in the wrong direction for about twenty minutes realised my mistake and consulted my map. Here I think is the lesson I want to impart to all who read this. If you are not sure of your direction or your instincts please consult your map or ask for directions it will save you time in the end, no one will mock you for consulting your map or a passer by and you will save time and energy. I have made the mistake several times during my trip, feeling but not knowing and cycling 10Km in the wrong direction is a massive waste of time and energy all for the want of pulling over and opening your bag and looking at the sign posts around you. Sometimes it is necesary to act on impulse but if it is not necessary just accept that you do not know where you are and spend a few minutes by the side of the road reading your map. Anyway. I eventually got my barings and was heading the corect way. after half an hour of cycling one near escape with an early morning delivery truck and my chain coming off again I found myself climbing the steps to my girls apartment (Many very steep steps), even after over one week of cycling I was out of breath and sweating profusly. I reached the top of what was my final hill and rang the bell. A few minutes later I was greated by the most wonderful smile. The end.

His First Day Home - RV Sleeps

The 2am mark has passed and I think RV is probably sleeping soundly since I put him to bed an hour ago.

We met this morning as he cycled from the train station to my home and he was dripping with sweat! A small moment of grogginess and awkward conversation followed and all I could think of was how unreal it all seemed to have him sitting infront of me, knowing that he had come home...

My heart is fluttering a bit from the thought but most of all, the pleasure in just spending a lazy, rainy day together is what makes me the most happy.

We drank and we ate, we made love, we giggled like kids.

Welcome home baby.


-RV Girl
Listening to Ramona Cordova

Day 8 Part Two.

Ok for once im not typing this from a washroom im sitting in my girls apartment in Lyon eating curious pastry thingys and drinking a nice red wine. How did I get here you may ask? Well after purchasing my ticket I wondered La Baule for a few hours, lost my cigarettes ate a gormet pizza and had a few drinks before catching a train to Nantes which would be the first leg of an overnight journey. I was extremely nervous not because I had to ride the train alone but because I had to navigate frances famous train system hauling around a saddle bag a bike and a backpack and the lonely planet guide book I was using as a travel aid (Which was actually written before the advent of the euro) told me I would need a Housse (Bike Box) to ride certain trains, but a Housse I did not have. Through broken english/french I managed to understand from the ticket desk guy that it would not be necessary but my mind was still filled with images of angry ticket inspectors questioning me harshly in a foreign language as to why I was attempting to board one of their TGV's with a fully assembled and unboxed bike and maybe even denying me access to the train. As it turns out not all french trains cary bikes, so you need to book yourself and your bike onto a train with the appropriate bike car or as in my case a sleeping car which all seemed to me to have a special compartment into which you can place your fully assembled velo. I toyed with the idea of using SERNAM which is the SNCF door to door or station to station bagage service but this was a bit more complicated than waiting for an appropriate train. I waited nervously at La Baule station for the train to arrive and when it did the platform dude seeing that I was a bit confused directed me with out a word to the propper train car. Inside were a series of hooks hanging from a rack attached to the roof from which you hang your bike by the front wheel. All very neat and considerate in my opinion becaise where I come from you would be hard pressed to find such an accomodating and well thought out service as this, but Frances railways pride themselves on being extremely bike friendly. I took the train to Nantes were I worried again (Im the nervous type ok) but when my train arrived (Train a Grand Vitesse going all the way to Geneva overnight) the dude in the funny hat seeing my bike just smiled asked for my Billet and pointed at my carriage. After almost falling between the platform and the train as I struggled up the three metal steps and throught the narrow door and around a tight corner just inside the door with all my bags, camping equipment and bike I found a little bay designated as a bike storage compartment. It may sound funny to a few of you but things like this which im sure a common in other countries are totally foreign and seem amazingly considerate to someone from Ireland where the authorities and train companies would probably make you jump through hoops to bring a bike on a train not to mention charge you an arm and a leg. My compartment was right next to the velo space and when I open the door I found a frend woman with her two very well behaved kids getting into their bunks, you see there are six bunks in the 2nd class sleeping compartments. I did not want to subject these poor people to the feet and armpits and worn three days in a row t-shirt so I waited till they were asleep before entering to sleep myself. I spent that time looking out the window at the very blurry scenery reflecting on my trip and anticipating seeing my little girlfriend again in a few hours. I set my alarm for six in the morning as my train was due in to Lyon at sevenish. I found that I could sleep while the train was moving but woke every time it stopped which I found pretty funny, maybe it was the soothing vibrations keeping me under. My trip almost at and end I noticed I was not feeling particuarily depressed, I put this down to the fact that I know another adventure is begining soon for me. My new life with my girl in Lyon starts in a few hours and I can always hit the road for a day or two at a time whenever I feel the desire. Stay tuned as I have more to digress but im too exhausted to write anymore tonight and dinner is almost ready mmmmmmmm.

So Now Is The Time...Am I Ready?

It's funny to think that over the past week both RV and I have been camping on opposite parts of the country or even in different countries. This beautiful lake is one campspot I invaded for a night near Geneva. No mosquitos, sunshine and lots of good food and wine.

Been moving non-stop since Switzerland and for that, I feel physically exhausted as well as mentally tonight. It is the first time I have had a moment truly alone in a long while and it feels comforting and relaxed. I can do those dumb things we do when no one can see!

It is hard to believe that in a matter of hours RV will be ringing at my door and not just staying for an extended weekend...I have a bit of fear seeping into me I'll be honest. We were in our different worlds lately and I think I may need some time to land back on our shared planet. I hope that won't disappoint him. I just have this mind that is vast, full of things everyday that I can forget even those things so close to me.

I have always been honest to RV about everything as much as possible but our lack of contact compared to normal makes me feel as if he has a lot to catch up on and it might overwhelm the both of us because we are not used to such distance.

My mind also races to make sense of what I feel although, no doubt, I am really happy to finally have him here. I just wonder why I feel so strange, detached...I don't know. Maybe I do but the fatigue isn't allowing it to sink in.

I have alot on my mind at the moment. It is nice to have a quiet night to reflect on those thoughts, on those people and hopefully get some sleep tonight. No booze, no fags.

See you soon RV.



-RV Girl
Listening to Under Byen

Day 8. La Baule.

I rose early this morning, it was pouring rain with high winds. It
looks sorta like how I imagine the french Riviera to be with the
weather of the west of Ireland. Imagine high rise apartment blocks and
casinos in the rain. Judging by my map it would be a long hard
dangerous wet day negotiating this urban death maze. I was lonely
tired and out of supplies. Maybe it was time to go home or to Lyon
which is my new home. But how would I do this with my limited french
and a bike in tow. I packed my things for the last time and cycled
into La Baule town centre in search of a Gare SNCF. After finding the
station I parked my bike and ventured inside into the unknown. I found
a relativly quiet section in the station and approached preparing my
french phrases in my head. The very nice very funny gentleman behind
the desk who spoke no english understood my request and typed away on
his computer for a few minutes before informing me that it was
possible today. So I purchased a ticket for myself and my bike and
walked away amazed at how easy the whole affair was. So I compose this
in a small local bistro drinking 1664, looking at the simple but
typically french menu watching the crowd, and they are playing one of
my favourite tracks by Joan Baez. Soon I can have a bath a huge meal
and touch my girl. It has been a wonderful journey, maybe not as long
as I had hoped but I feel it has done for me what I intended which was
to jump into french life and culture with help from no one and try to
get by even improve my french a little. And over all I want an
experience that will be a bridging point between my old life and my
new. I feel I have sweated out everything I needed to by now and that
I have changed both mentally and physically, its time to go home.

Day 7. Hot hills and Salt.

This morning I was feeling more refreshed than I have all week,
obviously because of my rest day. I packet my stuff which is getting
lighter all the time thank god. I set out from Vannes determined not
to hit the highway or N routes as they sat here. I planned my route
carefully and used my intuition to find my way out of the city because
the signs never help. Within a few minutes I was moving aong at a good
pace convinced I was going the right way and I was until I missed the
turn off for Thiex and ended up cycling exactly were I didn't want to,
on the hard shoulder of a 4 lane motorway. I suffered this for about
200m and decided to jump the barrier onto the adjacent road which
turned out to be exactly were I wanted to be. The rest of the day was
spent battling a headwind when I was exposed and powering up small
hills which pale in comparison to the hills of central brittany and
trying not to get too dehydrated in the 30 degree heat. I did not pich
a destination today I just decided to head south until I got tired or
found somewhere plesent to stay. Going through one largish medieval
tourist trap I even toyed with the idea of booking into whst looked
like a very nice and reasonably priced hotel. But being the sadist
that I am I decided to push on as there was no real athmosphere. After
that town (Cant remember the name) I encountered salt farms near the
coast with literally thousands of people in SUV's lining up to buy sea
salt from vendors on the side of the road. Earlier I crossed a very
nice bridge which crossed one of the inlets from the bay of Moribhan.
On the other side was a bird sanctuary with a great resting point
overlooking a marina. While I was there I got to see the bridge raise
up to let some yachts in. Altogether I estimate I covered approximatly
80 Kms today in about 6 hours. In the end I stopped in la Boule as I
was almost out of water and I spotted a sign directing towards a
campground. It is the most depressing site I have seen yet but has
everything I need I suppose. La Boule seems to me from looking at my
map to be a single urban conurbation ending at St. Nazaire. I intend
to tackle this tomorrow with a fresh head and hopefully the other side
of the bay it is situated on will be more relaxed and less built up.
My knees have healed significantly which was the one reason I made it
so far today and my ass isn't so bad either. I wonder how tomorrow
will go I haven't negotiated such an urban maze yet here I'm not
looking foreward to the challenge knowing how bad the signs are in
towns here. And can someone please tell me why only one in twenty
signs here tell you the distance to the next town?

Day 6 Pt 2. Monday I think.

As this is my day of rest I decided I should just hang at the campsite
all afternoon and cook and eat and generall chill out. So I did, it
was a bit windy so I cooked in the doorway of my tent using my foam
mat as a wind breaker. My on the road cooking skills have greatly
improved over the course of the week I've graduated from pasta and
sauce to smoked salmon and emmental on bread for starter and garlic &
spice potatoe wedges and fried mushrooms with Jambon and garlic bread
on the side for main course. All prepared on a single gas stove. This
requires immaculate timing and delicate planning to accomplish but has
thought me to put a little more effort into preparing my meal times
which when camping takes a lot longer than in the kitchen. But the
benefit is that I get a decent meal very cheaply while reducing the
weight in my saddle bag. The more food I eat and the more gas I use
the lighter the load becomes. I have also been disgarding anything I
find is not useful. So far bug repellant, chain oil the fourth spare
gas cannister, dirty t-shirts and shorts and one or two other bit have
been either used up, binned or past on to other campers. But I did
loose my soap which I am a bit pissed about. My mum finally figured
out how to phone me I'm not sure if this is a good thing as she will
be calling all the time now but I miss her to. I suppose I should
report that thus far I have not had a single puncture a fact I put
down to the Kevlav tyres I have on the bike. Over 300Km now and no
major problems except the chain the other day, I guess it has
stretched a bit and 1st gear is out of the question from now on which
is a pisser as it has been my favourite what with all the hills and
all. Anyway tonight I look foreward to reading the news on my pda and
cracking open the great looking bottle of wine I bought at monoprix
for 3 euro 50 cents and smoking a gauloise or two. The wind has died
down and I think its time to pull out the foam mat and watch the sun
set from the hill on which I'm camped. Till later my friends.

Day 6. Vannes.

So today is my day of rest. After my breakfast of Oatmeal green tea
and bread I decided it was time to see some of the city, and stock up
on supplies. I packed my day bag and hit the road on my velo. I
followed the signs pointed to Centre Ville and discovered that the
campsite was a lot closer to the town than I had previously thought
due to the fact that on my way here the signs directed my the long ass
way maybe three times as far. I was angry as this had prolonged my
agony yesterday but happy that I had discovered a shorter route. The
city of Vannes is great, old school looks and everything you need. I
purchased cheese vegetables and fruit in the organic market and ham,
milk, wine and smoked salmon in the Monoprix and also some gauloise in
the tabac. I've set myself up for an evening of tasty food and drink
while I recouperate in the campsite sitting in the sun. I talked to my
girl earlier to and she seems to be having a good time which makes me
feel good. I'm getting a good kick from watching french families
arrive in loaded cars and set up their camps. The father is usually
stressed to the max after a long drive and the mother is usually
shouting at him for some reason, then they have a huge fight as they
attempt to errect the massive tent they have taken with them. The kids
are by this stage running around fighting each other with the youngest
crying the eldest lending a hand and the middle child causing trouble.
But after an hour or so they are all sitting around the table eating
lunch laughing and joking as their holiday really begins. It seems to
me that camping is a major passtime to the french as in sure it is to
many other european nations much more so than with the Irish. But then
again we don't really get the weather or have the facilities most
other countries have so I suppose it makes sense also there is a
certain stigma attached to caravans in Ireland which should really
make no difference. Shit black clouds approace maybe ill see my first
bit of rain here? Ill let you know how my creative cooking goes later
while I'm hangin in the wash room chargin my fone.

Day 5 Pt 2.

I suppose I should start this addendum by saying that I do not always
get time or remember everything that happens in a day. Often I am
rushed, usually I'm standing in the wash room trying not to look to
suspicious as I type away on my pda fone gizmo. Last night for
instance after composing my note for the day I was asked my two very
nice very alternative Dutch nationals to partake in a few glasses of
pastise before bed. We had a wonderful conversation sitting under the
stars we talked about Tolkin, Monty Python, backpacking told stories
and made jokes. I did not mention this earlier because I simply
forgot. I also failed to mention that it took me an hour to find my
way out of Josselin not because as a solo traveller I did not want to
admit I was lost but because again its not so easy to do on the fly.
However I do plan to reread all of my posts when I finish this journey
and add anything I forgot or did not realise till later in a sort of
epilogue. But there is one thing I do feel I should mention now and
that is the deep sense of lonelyness I feel during this trip. Mostly
when I am on remote forest highways by myself or in a campsite in a
forest late at night or when I sit in a pub surrounded by strangers
who do not speak my language. These are when I feel it most. I think
it is because I am never normally along, certainly not for more than a
couple of hours and if I want to talk to someone I can but here I
cannot, not in the way I need to. Basically I have no friends here
although I am surrounded by friendly folk. Today I almost cried on the
phone with my girl, I can't explain why it just came over me as we
exchanged the regular lovers banter. But I really felt and meant it
when I said I love you, I had a lump in my throat. I think this is
more than a bike trip to me now, it is a gateway to a set of emotions
I could never of experienced living as I did in Ireland, I was too
comfortable there. I do not care how long I stay on the road, it has
already shown me what I want and need, funny it did not take long but
I've always been hyper sensitive. Good night my friends.