I woke up early as the window in my room faced south and the morning sun was bright. I was bone tired from the previous day's ride and didn't feel like I had much left in the tank. I knew it would be, at least, 60 miles to Avignon and I hoped for nice weather and flat roads.
As I got up and was walking around, I noticed a sharp pain in my upper right thigh, like a muscle pull. This wasn't good news.
I went out and walked around the mostly closed city. I stopped in a boulangerie for a really good pain au chocolate and got some bread for the day. I also found a greengrocer and bought fruit for breakfast and the rest of the day. I went to the local supermarket for some eggs, cheese and a few other incidentals. I then walked around some more of the city, just to see it. For the most part, it was a mix of houses and shops on narrow streets.
I returned back to the hotel, cooked and ate some food, showered, and packed up. I was ready to go but there was no one at the hotel's desk so I could pay and to unlock the garage door so I could get my bike. I waited for about 15 minutes when someone finally arrived and the transactions were carried out.
St-Jean-du-Gard is on the Gardon river. I rode downhill along the river on a relatively busy road. The muscle pull in my right leg hurt when I started pedaling. Since I often coast, this was a recurring pain that I didn't need. Here is a view along the Gardon just outside of St-Jean-du-Gard.
The bridge, a few miles southeast of St-Jean-du-Gard, is the junction of a major road south. I didn't take that one and the road had less traffic after I passed it.
The next big town down the road is Anduze. Just before getting to it, I passed through this gorge.
The hills on the other side of the gorge (and river) had a striated look that I hadn't noticed in France before. I've seen this kind of hillside in San Francisco, so it looked a bit familiar.
The Gardon runs right through Anduze and I followed it into the center of town. I stopped at a roadside park for a bite to eat but didn't stop for anything else. There wasn't much attractive in town and it was mostly shops and shoppers.
After Anduze, I was on a very busy road that eventually crossed the main local road. Once past the main road, traffic fell away. I was now riding over small rolling hills across a relatively flat plain.
I stopped by a small bridge for a sandwich. This creek ran under the bridge.
After about 20 miles, I crossed over and then under the main motorway between Ales and Nimes and, again, encountered the Gardon. In person, the red flowers on this sandbar in the river stood out much more than in the picture.
This picture of an attractive bridge with small, man-made cataract was taken about a kilometer later.
The valley of the Gardon continued its rolling flatness across farm fields and small, residential towns. This field was right next to the tree lined road I was riding on.
The big town I was headed for was Uzes. As I got close, I realized, it was at the top of a steep little hillock. The road into town steep, full of curves, without shoulders, and next to a rock wall. I was getting tired (I was at the 40 mile mark) and the hot sun, uphill, and zipping cars, didn't help.
I eventually arrived at the town square and bought some water to drink. I ate some more food as I poured the water into my camelback. I distinctly remember how good the cold seeping through the water bag felt on my back.
I noticed a town map on the dirt parking lot that is just off the town center and found the way out of town. Since it was Saturday, people were out and about and Uzes looked like a happening little town. On a hill a short ways past the town square was this view. It reminded me of the tower of Pisa. It wasn't leaning though it looks like it this picture.
Once out of Uzes, I was back onto small roads. I rode into and across the Foret de St-Martin on the only road through it. It wasn't the kind of forest I was accustomed to seeing in France. It was more brush then trees and the trees were small, stubby one. The forest also had these rocky outcroppings scattered across it. I kept hoping that the road snaked through some flat pass through them but I was wrong. I ended up climbing through two of these rocky bumps on my way to Avignon.
The sky was getting much darker now and I expected it to rain any minute. Once I exited the Foret de St-Martin and crossed the motorway, I was in Avignon's outskirts. I went through a couple of small towns and went by lots of houses. I had to wait a few minutes to cross a huge highway full of zipping cars.
I was within a few miles of my destination when another set of hills arose. I was hoping that I would avoid climbing these, as well, but alas, the ride wouldn't have been complete without an uphill at the very end. I climbed up the slight incline as I entered Villeneuve-les-Avignon, the city just across the river from Avignon, where I was to meet my wife.
I coasted down a curvy road and found a town map at a roundabout. I called my wife and while talking to her I saw her drive by! She noticed me, stopped, and after a nice welcome, showed me how to ride to our rented flat. I rode the half mile to the house, got off my bike, and the trip was officially over.
I didn't get back on the bike for the rest of the time I spent in France!