I slept well in my tent in the empty campground. There weren't any nosey animals digging around in my gear to wake me up. I got up and quickly realized that the sun wasn't going to get on and dry my tent for quite some time. I decided to eat breakfast while I waited. I cooked up some oatmeal and used the last of my brown sugar in it. I would have to rely on coffee service sugar packets from now on.
I cleaned up and began packing, eventually walking my tent down to the camp spot in the sun and laying it out to dry. By the time I had slowly gotten everything packed and ready, the man from the city was back and we had a brief conversation. The tent was now dry so I packed it and left.
This was my first Sunday in France and I was concerned about stores being closed. I had asked in town the previous day and discovered that most places would be open until noon. I rode the mile into town and stocked up on the usual: bread, avocado, tomatoes, cheese, and chocolate. By this time, I had moved to chocolate bars (1.5 Euros) instead of M&Ms (3.5 Euros) due to cost and my preference for chocolate without peanuts.
My goal for this day was the Baie du Mont St Michel. I wanted to see it and ride by it but didn't want to go on to the island. My host's house was about 20 miles past Mont St. Michel. To get there, I had to go southeast but the route was complicated by the shape of the bay, rivers, and road access.
I opted for small roads instead of the main one out of Vire. This was some of the hardest hills I had done so far as the deserted route meandered past farms, fields, streams, and cows.
The road followed the contours of the land and had many short, steep ups followed by similarly short and steep downs. It was tiring and very slow going. The photo shows both the view and the terrain I was biking over.
I stopped in the town of Sourdevel for lunch. Every town had some kind of monument to the dead of World Wars I and II. These were always well maintained and usually had a French flag flying from it. I had lunch admiring this one.
Just past Sourdevel, my route entered a river valley with this picturesque scene.
Up above this view, there were hills covered with trees that made a kind of tapestry of different greens.
Unfortuantely, I was quickly out of the valley and riding along farmland and through deserted towns. To give you some idea of what France is like on a Sunday afternoon, here is the Brecey town square at 2pm.
From Brecey to the Bay, my route when through a maze of rrolling hills that ware mostly undeveloped forest lands.
It is hard to describe the euphoria of being alone, in France, on a bike, riding through the forest. In this state, I remember being struck by the dappled sunlight on the trees
The Selune river empties into the Bay and I wanted to find a route that crossed it without using a major highway or going into a big city.
I eventually used this bridge in the town of Ducey.
As I rounded the (western) edge of the Bay and began riding due east, the terrain got flatter. Yet again, the wildflowers called out for a photo.
I was about 40 miles into my day's ride and it was time to stop for some fuel. A sandwich like this was good for 10 - 15 miles.
It was just after I ate that I was riding in, what I thought was, a deserted area when I came upon a Louis Vuitton factory. It was empty, this being Sunday, but it seemed so out of place. It had big windows and I could see row after row of, what looked like, sewing machines. I rode on and had a mental discussion whether I should stop for a photo or not. By the time I decided to take a picture, I was about half a mile down the road and didn't want to go back.
A short time later, I turned a corner and in the distance could just make out Mont St. Michel. It is a small pyramid in the deep distance just off the coast in the bottom middle.
By the way, there are religious symbols on virtually every road I was on in France. These might be sculptures, plaques, but, most likely, it would be crosses like this one.
The terrain remained flat as the image of Mont St. Michel grew larger
and larger
and larger.
The roads I was riding on where very close to the edge of the Bay. At one junction, I saw a fellow bike tourist, an uncommon site in France, riding my way.
Marc was a German headed for Spain who was on his second bike tour (his first one solo). He was on a mountain bike and pulling a loaded and haphazardly packed trailer. He spoke excellent English and we were touring parnters for the next 2 hours. He was wild camping and was nearing the end of his day (I took his photo at 5:45 pm). We talked about touring, directions, destinations, equipment, food, and a bit about ourselves. I was thankful for the company but Marc rode a bit slower than I did which would have been a problem if we'd tried to tour together for any length of time.
I was constantly stopping to take pictures of Mont St. Michel, which now seemed close enough to touch.
Of all the ones that I took, I like this one the best.
We rode away from the island on Route du Mont Saint Michel, a narrow, busy road full of hotels, tourist shops and restaurants. We took the first right we could on this road and went into the wetlands toward the east. This photo is looking back at the island the way we've come.
Marc began looking for a place to stay for the night. We passed a trail and he decided to stop. I still had another 15 miles to go, so I rode on. It was a chance meeting of two people who delighted in doing the same thing. I enjoyed the bit of time I spent riding and talking with Marc and it made me reflect a bit on the choice of solo touring.
The sun was getting low in the sky and I was tired. I still had a long ride on a busy coastal highway with no shoulder. The diamond sign means that this is road always has the right of way at junctions.
About halfway there, I got very hungry and ate most everything I could find on the bike. I was worried about bonking as there were no stores to be seen and none would be open anyway. I was now a bit away from and around the coast, so I couldn't see the island any more. Instead, I saw coastal scenes like this.
It took a while after I found the town of Vilde de Marine, my stop for the night, to locate my host's house. We talked by phone several times and I had to ride up and down the same road a few miles before we finally connected up. Anne, my host (I didn't get a picture of her), was about my age living in a house right on the Bay. Here is a view from my bedroom for the night. This picture was taken at low tide (the next morning).
She asked me some questions about bike touring and then told me about walking trips she'd taken with her donkey. It is hard enough to deal with a loaded touring bike. I can't imagine walking long distances while trying to feed a donkey and coax her down the road. She had made me a very nice dinner and I ate up heartily. She had to get up early the next morning and attend to an Amnesty International booth at a nearby meeting. She wouldn't be at the house when I got up but her petite amis, a local taxi driver, would be. With that, I went to bed and slept soundly.