Exited the ferry fine (day one). Had the individual time trail from the Tour De France on the TV while on the ferry which was good. Another win for Froomey ;-)
The first 5 miles was ok, good tail wind, decent speed, then the pain began. The bag I'm carrying on my back weighs about 15-20 lbs which is pushing my crotch onto my saddle like a vice. I had a sore there to begin with, and this didn't make matters better. I stopped and found a relatively secluded spot to apply some more chamois creme to my nether regions! It helped a little but 3.5 hours of rubbing against the saddle took its toll, so, like a loser, I'm getting the train to the next town, Amien.
Depending on what my sore situation is like, I hope to finish the last leg of the trip on bike again, but will try stick as close to the train route as possible so I have something to fall back on should the problem become unbearable again.
Putting the pain to one side a sec, I remembered some of the route, turns, corners and villages from my previous trips in northern France. Some new tarmac found itself in front of me too, but it was nice to see some familiarity. The terrain in northern France is like telly tubby land, rolling hills of green that go on and on and on. They say northern France is flat, but they're only comparing that to the Alps. In the 50-ish miles I cycled yesterday I climbed a total of just over 3,000 ft. 15 minutes of slowly climbing, followed by 60 seconds of descending. Then 15 minutes of climbing, followed by another 60 seconds of going back down again. Zzzzz
The views are incredible though. You can see for miles and miles. Every now and then a small glimpse of the sea on the west coast disappearing behind the tree line that adorns the horizon to your right. The roads are superb too. Far better than the roads back home. The drivers have a lot more respect for you too and will wait patiently, give you more room on the road and give you a polite toot to let you know they're approaching. The only negative review is for the more historic towns you pass through that still have the original cobble stones that were first laid there hundreds of years ago. It's like when you were a small child and slid down the stairs in just your underpants and bump, bump, bump, bump you hit the bottom on the stair. Not the best medicine for a sore #**#, but unavoidable.
The hotel I stayed at, and currently sitting within its court yard typing this, is called Hotel De France. Having arrived last night the owners were already there and expecting me. I can't remember their names, but he was originally from Cape Town, and his wife, Britain (I'm guessing that one). C Town put a beer in my hand immediately and showed me the way to the restaurant, stroke, tv room which due to the fact the restaurant was closed Wednesdays, he had the Tour De France highlights on ITV4. And for the next 40 minutes or so, talked nothing but cycling. Bloody heaven. What were the chances of finding a hotel like this from the many others I could have picked? The hotel is more like a giant stables. No stables per say, but the rooms that guests sleep surround a square cobbled court yard in the middle of which is inundated with colourful flowers, hanging baskets and trellises. It really is rather nice.
So, looking at the time now I had better get my shoes strapped up, my nuts strapped up and on my way really as I need to catch the train to Amiens. Hopefully I will arrive in time to catch the second half of today's stage from the Tour De France as it is probably going to be the toughest day of the tour so far with a double helping of Alp D'Huez. If you don't know what that is, Google it.
Au revoir!