Wantage CTC

This long awaited event, conceived and organised singlehandedly by cycling and grimpeur maestro Laurent, got under way from Wantage market place at 10h00 on the Monday morning. The start group of 10, later to be augmented by a further 6, eased out of Wantage in very pleasant weather and up Hackpen Hill to the Downs and Lambourn. Mavis joined here on schedule, much to the organiser’s satisfaction and her impressively frugal luggage was a point of comment. Many of the bikes were much more heavily laden, even though we were to enjoy the luxury of bricks and mortar, as opposed to tented, accommodation!

We made our way to Newbury, where we enjoyed the obligatory Wantage CTC lunch stop at the Bacon Arms. The afternoon route included some fairly serious South Downs hills, at least for the writer, whose race bike was fitted a 42:20 bottom gear. Fortunately, the pain was not to last too long and more undulating country ensued. The peloton stopped for the night at Shawford, south of Winchester, where three more adventurers joined us; many of the group were staying at the Bridge Hotel, where Victor Meldrew met his end in the TV series “One Foot in the Grave”. My bike computer showed 103 km (I don’t do miles!) for the day. 

Laurent had us all whipped into line on Tuesday morning and after 50km and some more hills, we arrived in Portsmouth. A detour up to the local viewpoint was very worthwhile and in continuing good weather we were provided with a panoramic view of Portsmouth. The route in and out of the docks area by cycle is not something for the uninitiated. It consists of a network of backstreets, subways and cycle tracks in profusion, but works well if you are a rocket scientist, or like Kevin, you know the system from experience. Steve and Ellen joined us here, having travelled by rail from Oxford – a good idea I wish I had thought of.

Five hours on the ferry brought us to the pleasant and relaxed culture of Cherbourg in early evening. Our family-run hotel, the Grand, was close to the centre, economic and comfortable and next morning’s baguette breakfast with big cups of milky coffee, a long missed joy. But Wednesday’s business was cycling and Laurent informed us that the mission was eastwards to Barfleur and St Vaast.  Mavis received the very sad news of the passing of her mother and left immediately for home. Our condolences go to both Mavis and Lou.  Although it was yet another sunny day, the wind god was on duty and a Force 6 easterly was blowing, but having now freed ourselves of weighty panniers, we had no great problem. The tidy villages with their well-kept houses and gardens are a delight to the eye. An excellent lunch at a harbourfront restaurant in Barfleur was followed by exploration of the peninsula’s east coast and Gatteville lighthouse, before stopping at St Vaast, the local oyster centre, for “tea”. Plenty of green produce in the fields. The remainder of the loop back to Cherbourg was very hilly and after some delays for puncture repairs, we were back in the hotel by 18h30 and an early night for some.   87 km on the clock.

Thursday morning brought more fair weather and the day’s trip was to start westwards along the coast. The strong following wind helped us up the hills and all too soon it was…lunchtime!! Laurent negotiated a table for us in the back room of a village bar in St Germain and ensconced among the few curious locals, we enjoyed the excellent menu du jour (wine included) for £ 5 each. Once back on our bikes, there was an unscheduled group split and while some made the longish descent to the north-west Cape of Cotentin at Goury, the others followed the coast southwards through Jobourg. We met up again a few hours later at a biker café in Beaumont, where both groups had decided to stop for tea. Our group, led by Neil, arrived and departed first. We made our way back to base, thanks to some inspired navigation by Neil, who was doing excellent support work for the maestro. At one point, we left what I thought was the route (!), through a gap in the hedge, to find a lonely length of tar left behind after some road diversion. This led us neatly to another junction and with a quick left/right, we were following the Cherbourg signs.  Later, with a relaxed 77 km on the clock, we arrived back in town, in time to get ready for another gourmet evening meal. By this time, my knees were suffering from pushing too-big gears, so a visit to the bike shop for a new cassette was indicated.

By Friday morning, the bike shop proprietor had done the necessary and the hills were somewhat easier. Diane’s knee had become painful the previous day, so she took the day off, with Helen and Liz, to explore Cherbourg on foot. There’s a lot to see, including a splendid new aquatic centre with a real submarine. The trip for Friday was southwards in a loop around the more hilly part of the peninsula. On the way, we came around a sharp corner in Brix, to find a man crouched in the middle of the road, hand painting a zebra crossing! Both painter and cyclists were somewhat surprised. Onward to Valognes, where the weekly town market was being held in the square. This was a market from times gone by, with home-produced goods of all kinds and live chicks and chickens. There were Eastern Europeans selling dodgy clobber as well, but they were out on the periphery! A few cheese purchases were made, followed by the traditional lengthy lunch, close by at the La Cuvette restaurant. Bike time resumed and we made a circular route to Sotteville, home of the Theo Capelle cellars, locally renowned for their fine cider and Calvados. The latter was tasted and a few bottles bought and tucked away in panniers. We were already heading for Cherbourg, but with the signposts reading 8 km to go, we were led into one of the famous LC detours, up a very long drag through a forested area to the hilltops on the southern fringe of Cherbourg, then a steep plunge through rush hour traffic into the seafront area. Another 82 km under the belt!

The final dinner was a 4 hour seafood spectacular at the Café de Paris restaurant, just up the road from our hotel. Heaps of local whelks, oysters, crab, mussels and langoustines, carefully prised, sucked and nibbled out of shells, all at prices not seen in this country for decades.

The late ending meant a short night’s sleep and the company standing in the dark at 06h30 on Saturday morning, ready to cycle the 4 km to the ferry, did have to wait for one late sleeper! Smooth organisation by the tour captain had us soon sweeping through the formalities and on to the ferry for breakfast and a doze to while away the 5 hour trip.

Landing back at Portsmouth, the cyclists were almost first off the ferry and soon negotiating the cycle route out of town. Diane’s knee was still painful and Jon kindly offered to carry a pannier for her – thanks Jon, it didn’t seem to slow you down!  We took a different route back to Winchester from that we used on the way down, through pleasant back roads before we got to a final “big dipper” section on the main road into the town. Time was found for an impromptu “tea” stop at a pub along the way. Winchester is a maze of one-way streets and pedestrian precincts, so we pushed our bikes through the centre; our B & B for the night happened to be at the top of the hill on the far side! 

Being concerned about the ability of our sore knees to take us back to Wantage the following day, Diane and I decided it would be safer to take the train back as far as Didcot. Laurent kindly guided us to the local railway station, where we bought tickets and were later to experience the somewhat regimented and cycle-unfriendly world of rail travel (Virgin Trains) with a bike.  

Conclusions – as fairly unfit road race cyclists unused to the culture of cycle touring, we were impressed with the achievement of the tour’s objectives, namely its slick organisation, adherence to the stated programme, routes and timing but always with the flexibility for extra detours and stops and chiefly, the willingness of the group to ride at the speed of its slowest riders. It was unfortunate in our view that the event was not better supported. 

We understand that LC’s commitments to cycling next year will not allow him time to organise a third successive foreign tour. The recipe is there and we should all strive to ensure that 2003 brings another trip to the relaxed French byways and excellent cuisine.

Nigel Stuckey