In the blink of an eye, two months in France gone, all our tomorrows turned to yesterdays, all rides ridden, time to pack and leave. Where did it all go? Two months seemed like such a long time at the start, even halfway through there was no need to panic, and then, in a puff of blue smoke, gone!
Our two months at Noisetieres in the Limousin had been fantastic. When we arrived, it was tail-end winter, when we left it was full-blown spring, even early summer. I found so many trails to ride, and whole areas where I need to go back to for further exploration. I reckon I’d be hard pushed to ride them all ever, and some of them so sweet (wipes tear from eye).
We left on Friday afternoon about 4pm, the weather was warm and sunny, I wore t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. We drove North at a leisurely pace, past the Monts de Blond and the Ambazacs where I’d ridden in rain and shine, then on up towards Orleans. We stopped for coffee about 100k before Chartes, and it was freezing! OK, slight exaggeration, but it was so much colder that a frantic rummage through the bags to find warm clothes was in order. By the time we reached Chartes, and booked into our overnight accommodation, we were looking for the heating switch.
Next day, onward to Boulogne, the clouds rolled in, and it started to rain. A fitting end to our stay in France really, but it didn’t make the driving any easier. As we rolled off the ferry at Dover I couldn’t take anymore, I handed over driving duties to Carla while I drowned my sorrows in a can of French supermarket beer.