Thouars to Gennes 41 miles. Running total 730 miles

Here is todays route https://ridewithgps.com/routes/42318196

We awoke this morning to a message from the hostess at tonight’s accommodation. There has been a confirmed case of Covid in the 19th century part of the castle we were booked to stay in. Do we want to move to the adjacent 17th century castle. As there is very little accommodation in the area, and it is already a long cycling day, we accept the change she proposes. (For castle read chataux)

The weather looks good for cycling today, but on checking todays route, we have to go up the steep road into the hill town of Thouars. The only positive is that the shops are that way too, so we can organise lunch without making a detour. I make an executive decision that it will be a bike push up the hill, as we don’t want to expend too much energy too early in the day.

We discovered there is a lot more of the town than the medieval part that we explored last night. This morning, there is a huge bustling Friday market in the centre ville where the locals are out looking for bargains. After shopping for lunch, we headed back downhill to pick up the cycleway, which followed the River Thouet along the pretty valley for nearly 10 miles.

We left the river and headed into fields of wheat, vines, and grass that is being cut by a combined harvester. This is not doing much for my hay-fever.

We came upon the two cyclists who were in our accommodation last night, and Madam kept separate from my compatriot in fear that the Babel app french would distort their view of the British abroard. It turned out they spoke better English than me, which I know is not hard. They were on a break away from their teenage children and were cycling to Semur as they wanted to benefit from the long french bank holiday weekend.

All was going well when suddenly there was a crack, the sound of bits dropping on the road, and I felt my saddle disappear. I stopped and managed to recover the bits and pieces off the road and discovered one of the bolts in the seat post that retained the saddle in position had snapped. Having got out my bag of spares, nothing fitted. However, by re-purposing a bolt, meant to hold the mudguard in position, with a spacer I made from the hollow bolt that holds the front chain ring, and a nut and washers, I managed to temporarily fix the seat back on. I knew my days in the AA would come in handy.

Google said the nearest bike shop was in Samur, which was 10 miles away, but being French was closed until 2:30. We made our way there and arrived just as it reopened. I expected my compatriot to deploy her Babel app French to ask whether they sold the special bolt that retains the seat in position. Instead, she used her most apologetic pose and said, “I am English.” He looked at her sympathetically and with a wrye smile said, “It happens.” I showed him two halves of the snapped bolt and pointed at the bodge repair, and he immediately understood. He searched in the box every mechanic has, and voila he had a slightly longer version of the bolt I needed. I asked combien? He said free. I was going to ask my compatriot to kiss him, but I thought better of it and took it with a smile and merci.

I put the bolt in my pocket, and we continued alongside the Loire river to our accommodation, which is a chataux. Madam had worked in England and quickly decided English was the easiest communication method. She also ran a brocade and was proud to show us QE2 diamond jubilee merchandise amongst her antiques. She showed me where to put the bikes, and within this large room was a bike repair tool kit. I took advantage of this and repaired my seat.

The bedroom and bathroom were full of brocantes, which my compatriot explored, but decided not to buy anything. 

The nearest bar and restaurant was a 1.5 k walk, which my compatriot opted for rather than the 5 minute cycle ride. We enjoyed a beer in the sunshine outside the Tabac and then went to a specialist chicken restaurant, which again did not disappoint.

Then of course there was the matter of another 1.5k walk back up the hill to the chataux. No Uber’s here. Plus there were gates at the bottom of the drive that were shut. I messaged madam and she opened them, but when we arrived at the building madam came out to welcome us back, or check us out. My compatriot, full of wine opolgised for the arrival. Well it is 8.30pm!