Day 11-Castellane – Apt
130km
1,875m ascent
During the night I keep waking up, thinking I can hear the sound of water rushing down the river ready to pick me up and sweep my away. I’d seen how much water that dam was holding back…After the fifth time of waking up, I decide to move somewhere I could be certain I wouldn’t be carried away, so I could sleep in peace.
I wake up again and feel white light trying to penetrate through my eyelids. I open my eyes and realise that it’s actually the full moon that has risen above of one of the hills that was to the east of me. It was bright enough to make out time on my watch without using the back light! Pretty epic. Unfortunately I couldn’t rouse myself enough to take a picture.
When actual morning arrived, I went for a morning swim in the river and wrestled my bike back up the steep embankment and onto the road. It was warm. I followed the winding road that lead to the Verdon gorge, spending a fair amount of time ascending the gorge in the heat whilst sweating like mad. The scenery was spectacular especially as I reached the top of the small col and approached the Lac Croix du Verdon. I could make out pedalos and canoes way down in the gorge drifting along the azure blue water with the sheer walls of the gorge looming either side. A rapid descent, chasing another cyclist bought me closer to the lake before I climbed a super steep hill (steeper than anything in the alps) to a narrow country road that ran along the top of the lake. As I looked to the north the change in scenery was immense. Vast flat fields went on for miles and in the distance a few prominent hills seemed to rise out of nowhere. The heat of the sun caused the scent of the surrounding lavender fields to pervade my nostrils, reminding me of where I used to work as teenager in an old chapel selling artificial flowers, preserved lavender, candles and other floristry bits. I never would have thought that 10 years later I’d cycling the length of France.
At the other end of the lake I reached a town called Sainte Croix du Verdon and tucked into several ice creams and cold drinks before descending to the lake for a swim and to chill out for an hour or so. Finally, and with a lot of effort, I re ascended and continued West along roasting hot French roads. They were way hillier than I expected and I couldn’t physically drink enough water to stay hydrated. I was necking a litre of water in each town I passed through and for the first time (or maybe second time – see Day 9 shivers) the holiday was feeling like an absolute glorious sufferfest. But it was the penultimate day so it was time to dig deep!
I got to a town called Manosque and it was surely the hottest place I’d ever been. It must have been 28/29 degrees. I dove into a McDonald’s to get a milkshake and out of the sun under a parasol. The metal tables outside could definitely have had a full English cooked on them. I plugged on further to the West until I finished the day in a town called Apt. From here I would just need to head north for a few hours the next day to reach Bedoin for my rendez vous with Lamby. I found myself a great park with a picnic table and lake, perfect for the penultimate bivvy. I sat and feasted on meat, crisps and cakes, watching the sun setting over the lake and ducks splashing about. At about 10pm I stood by the lake and brushed my teeth. “this is the life” I thought.
Then shit got weird. I turned around and was slightly startled to see a guy standing about 50m away on top of a little mound. I thought nothing of it as people had been wandering past since I’d been there. He then came and stood by the reed beds next to the lake about 20 metres away. Getting weirder, but no need for alarm. He was probably equally perplexed by my presence. Then he kept walking from one side of me to the other in a large arc. I felt like I was being stalked by a lion “OK this is now definitely weird.”
Say something to ‘break the ice’….. “Bonsoir!”. He replies in French with a voice that tells me the guy is definitely a wierdo even though I couldn’t understand him. I should have stayed quiet as he then went and stood against the tree that was no more than 1m from the end of the picnic table I was sitting at. “Jesus Christ, what is he doing?” I kept glancing in his direction trying to see if he had a weapon, making sure my feet weren’t under the table in case I needed to react to something. “OK so he’s shorter than me, kind of frail looking and wearing a pretty middle aged button t shirt and shorts combo….if shit kicks off I can definitely have him.
What the hell, why is his hand in his shirt? Is he touching his nipple? And what is that rustling in his pocket? He surely isn’t touching himself is he?
He is.
Better than brandishing a knife I suppose. At least if he’s some pervert he’ll finish what he’s doing he’ll leave me alone…
10 minutes later….. For fuck sake. What is this guy doing? Why? I just want to go bed! Been sweating my tits off all day. I’ve slept in random places all holiday and no bother. As soon as I get to civilisation, I encounter some creep. Is he done? No? Ok fuck this.
And with that, I grab my bike and head for the other end of the park, eventually rejoining the road that runs around it. The whole time fuming that this idiot has spoilt the last night I’d be sleeping under the stars. As I rode past a RV type vehicle parked in a layby, the engine started and my silhouette streaked ahead of me, cast by the lights of the vehicle. I heard it pull out of the layby and slowly driving behind me. “weird” I thought, “I’m riding slightly uphill and there’s a junction right here. Maybe he just doesn’t want to overtake and cut me up”. I turned right. The van turned right. “ok ill pull over and let him past.”
I pulled off the side of the road and waved it past. Nothing. I waved again. The lights flashed. I turned around and rolled my eyes in disbelief. “What the hell is going on? Am I in some sort of fucking nightmare?” I rode on some more and still the van followed. Options…..Keep riding in the hope he’d back off before I either fell asleep at the wheel…………. or confront the guy. I was now starting to brim with adrenaline and frankly I was feeling really fucking pissed off. What an arsehole. I stopped again. He stopped. I turn the bike around and started riding towards him. Shouting “what the fuck do you want?!?!” with the most aggressive tone and face I could muster. He pulled out around me and sped off down the road….this was my moment! I cranked as hard as I could in the opposite direction. I spotted the cycle path that I came in on earlier in the day. It was on the other side of a car park and soon went behind buildings so I could hide. I raced through the car park it and got on the cycle path before quickly turning off my lights. To my horror I could see the rv pull out of the same side road and drive back in my direction. “Ok this is actually mental now. What shall I do?” I rode along the pitch black cycle path with my lights turned off, narrowly avoiding turning a cat into road kill, all the way to the other end of town to a spot I’d seen earlier.
It was a picnic area next to a deserted building that was boarded up, and there was a well with a metal cover over it. Classic horror movie setup. I stood in the dark in the silence. Still buzzing with adrenaline and fear. Every noise in the bushes freaked me out. There was no way I could stay somewhere outside. Every time I heard a distant car engine it was sending a shiver down my spine and every sudden rustle in the trees was making me jump. I rode back towards town and went into the first hotel I could find, paying 90 euros for a bloody family suite. The owner was friendly but I sensed the family suite was a stitch up…..at least I wasn’t going to be wanked over!
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