Le Viaduc de Millau

The Millau bridge over the river Tarn in the very south of the Massiv Central. It's huge and looks like a CGI apirition that would look a bit fake in a film, but it is actually there. I drove to have a look at it on the way to the Pyrenees.

The stats are incredible, one of pier's summit is 343 metres high—slightly taller than the Eiffel Tower and only 38m shorter than the Empire State Building.

Norman Foster designed it and almost seems to have the optimum amount of structure, not too minimalist, but also not too over the top Victorian engineering style. I wonder what IKB would have thought of this if you could have led him blindfolded to the viewpoint.

France is brilliant for 'Aires' - picnic spots on the edges of autoroutes that are normally picturesque and well equipped. Hereis no different and there is a new aire here that has an information centre and a very good viewpoint of the bridge.

I also drove under the bridge on the way to Albi and the last picture here is of the town of Millau that no longer has all the autoroute traffic running through it. If you are ever in the area it is a must see.

Le Dauphine Libere (Ventoux)

After getting off the ferry at 7am and dropping Amy at Marseille airport (not actually in Marseille if you ever go) I raced across to Mont Ventoux again to watch the Dauphine Libere race, a major pre-tour test for yellow jersey contenders.

After stocking with picnic supplies, I drove up to Chalet Reynard and found Craig and friends lounging on the grass wondering whether to have another glass of Rose, or whether to go for the foi gras next. This is the life.


There is always loads of time before the riders come by to drink beer and engage in the other traditional activity - painting the road with slogans supporting your favourite riders. At any other time you would probably get arrested for graffiti, but in major cycle races it is perfectly acceptable.


Craig unveiled his Tom Simpson stencil which he made himself (requiring siginificant effort!) and we stuck a couple on the road so that the British cycling great who died in the Tour de France in 1967 will be remembered.

A few local cyclists came by and appreciated the effort, Tom is much admired in this area for his exploits and thousands flock to his memorial further up the mountain every day.


Our next painting effort was not so artistic and I felt a little like a naughty schoolboy as we placed St George's flags and an 'Allez Bradley !' sign on the road. You have to watch for cars and cyclists as they go past, put our efforts worked and we hoped that Bradley Wiggins and David Millar would notice as they went past.


A couple of hours and a few beers later, the race came by with French rider Christophe Moreau leading the field up the hors categorie climb. Various famous riders followed including Hincapie, Boonen, Zabriskie and Vinokourov of whom I managed to get a half decent photograph.

Valverde (normally considered a Yellow Jersey contender) looked in a world of pain and was being pushed up by a domestique. Tim a photographer staying with Craig and photographing further up the mountain said that they were keen not to be captured in such difficulty...not sure what was wrong.

The evening was spent eating Pizza from the local 'ad-hoc' pizza place and drinking some ridiculously strong Belgian beers that Craig had acquired....Leffe was beaten in the strength stakes by Kwak, or Quack or something like that. Nice though.

I had pitched the tent in Craig and Vicky's back garden and that night there was an almightly thunderstorm which threatened to either deafen me or electrocute me with lightening. The rain didn't stop all morning and I dropped Tim off in Nyons for the next stage start to see lots of wet and bedraggled Gendarmes closing the roads. What a change from the motorcycling gendarmes the day before on Ventoux in their short sleeves shirts and shades (note that policemen in the UK aren't allowed to not wear leathers for health and safety reasons. The French motorcyclist police do look much cooler as a result.)

By the afternoon the sun had come out and it was lovely, Provence is looking really green at the moment. I decided to ride up the Ventoux (for the seventh time now....) and see how fast I could do it. 1 hr 22 minutes was my time from Malaucene, which I think is pretty respectable. The weather was again kind though, sunny but not too hot as I went at 3.30pm. The morning rain had cleared the air and the views at the top were breathtaking.

But time to leave the lovely village of Faucon, picture on the left is from the top of the tower at Craig and Vicky's.

Corsica

Another high speed motorway journey, through the ,many tunnels past Nice and on to Savona in Italy again for the ferry to Bastia on Corsica.

The ferry passengers thronged the decks as land appeared, me especially as I wanted to see if the mountains were as big as they say. They were, indeed the whole island was a little bigger than I was expecting and I wondered how long it would take to cross to the other side.....one woman advised 3-4 hours !

Not much time before dusk and we raced across the island through some very rocky gorges and possibly the windiest (that's windy as in lots of bends, is that spelt windyest ?) roads in the world to the hills above Porto, there we set up camp.

Next day (always sun here it seems) a 60 mile loop through the Spelunca gorge to Porto, then along the spectacular coast and back up through the mountains. The final climb was 1100 metres and quite tough.

The scenery is pretty awesome, rocky coves, crystal clear seas and towering mountains almost 3000 metres high. You can go skiing in the winter. The other thing is there are pigs and cows wandering everywhere.....sometimes you have come round a bend

to be confronted with half a farmyard, they seem to wander
where they please. Some of the pigs seem more wild boar than domestic pig too, but clearly they make good eating as the hams are very tasty here.

Next day we drove to south of Ajaccio and stopped at a campsite on the beach. No longer did we have the cooler mountain air and perishable food started to suffer in the 30 degrees (oh dear, starting to sound like Alan Partridge !).

I spent the day on the beach getting sunburnt and swimming in the very salty and buyoant water (forgot how little you need to swim here), Amy went riding along the coast. I saw some fish, but I would be lying if I said a school of dolphins turned up and somehow we connected through thought and swam together etc etc. There were definitely no sharks.

One more day here and then back to France and Mont Ventoux for the Dauphine Libere stage that has a summit finish on the Geant of Provence.

Then, that enormo bridge at Millau needs a visit I think :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viaduc_de_Millau

Some brief Corsican footage here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRcaPlucnVo

Lake Como; Mont Ventoux (X 3) & St Tropez

Lake Como is beautiful......no mistake. I had not been before and I have to say that despite being a bit twee compared to the more rugged stuff up the Sondrio valley, it was nice. Driving along the lake shore with no traffic, windows down, music on was pretty cool.


Anyway, wasn't there long, a big storm in the evening which tested the tent and the next day I picked Amy up from Bergamo. But not before visiting the cycling chapel and museum on the Ghisallo, some pretty famous bikes in there, Merckx, Coppi etc. Very interesting.


The drive to Craig's place near Mont Ventoux, was long, and rainy. The autostrada is a fast road though (once past Milan) and there are rumours of an all time top speed being reached.....but cannot be confirmed for legal reasons. The Cabanieri might come knocking on my tent door.

Over the Col de Montgenevre, a zip past Gap, past Veynes and by about 10.30 we were in the sleepy Provencal town of Faucon.

After catching up at breakfast the next morning, we decided to attempt the 'Madman' of Ventoux challenge...basically involves riding up all three routes in a day, from Malaucene, Bedoin and Sault.

It was actually easier than I thought it would be, the weather was kind and my legs felt good. I also think the Sault route is cheating a bit, you start from much higher and the gradient is very gentle for most of it. So now we are officially Ventoux Madmen, I think that's a membership of a fairly exclusive club (we didn' get stamped time cards etc, so maybe not completely official http://les.cingles.du.mont-ventoux.club.fr/menu.htm).

But, in the process I guess a little bit of the mystique has gone away, Ventoux is supposed to be sinister; brutal.......literally a killer. Doing it three times is mocking it a little, but I know it is a completely different propisition in heat. It got the last laugh anyway by delivering a massive cloudburst on us as we descended for the final time, the sky went black and it was the the heaviest rain I have ever seen. Trying to stop on a hairpin bend from 50mph in the wet was interesting.

We couldn't hang about long we had a ferry booked for Corsica and the French Riviera beckoned. We said our goodbyes to Craig and Vicky who were kind as ever (http://www.veloventoux.com/) and set off in the 28 degree heat which was a bit of a change from snow.

Reaching Le Lavandou on the Med coast always brings back vivid childhood memories. When we lived in Belgium we were lucky enough to drive down with caravan and boat and we camped by a beautiful beach at Cavaliere. I am pleased to report everythig is still there and the campsite itself is as rustic as it ever was.....no ugly apartment blocks have replaced it yet. And if anything the sea is even more turquoise.....it really is beautifully inviting. Eskimo glace anyone ?

We stopped off in St Tropez, I had never been there before either (as an adult). The harbour looked very nice with the mega yachts 'parked' on the marina. I also think I had the nicest mango and cerise ice cream on the planet, two boules was almost too much, I battled to eat it before it all melted away.

Next stop Corisca (assuming we make it to Savona in Italy where the ferry leaves from). It's been on my to-do list for a while, not sure I'll get time for the legendary GR20, but some cycling should take place for a change.

Actually the Stelvio, Gavia etc

There's a sight that was a bit better than yesterday, all the passes open.

The morning began with a 'car stuck on 45 degree slope' incident. Over Breakfast I had noticed that some branch felling had been going on, but thought nothing of it. Until I drove onto the 45 degree ramp that separated pitches in the tiered campsite and realised that I couldn't go any further forward due to the branches and a van parked in the way.

An Italian woman was watching my predicament with much interest as I weighed up options. I could either wait, or try and back up the slope. I chose the latter option. As the campsite slowly filled with smoke from exhausts and clutches I realised that no combination of clutch and revs was going to make this work. The lady meanwhile was kindly offering me lots of advice in Italian that I had no choice but to dismiss out of hand.....language issues, it was probably very sensible.


As the smoke lay heavily across the hillside I decided enough was enough and sought the driver of the blocking van. He was just around the corner, clearly oblivious to the sounds of car engines revving etc. Let's hope the clutch holds out until England.


Anyway, I had the Stelvio planned and I headed off up the road contemplating the enormous height gain I was about to ride, pic of the crazy east side here. At 1900 metres everyone came to a halt whilst the lots of the cliff-face above a gap in tunnels came crashing down.....I would not have like to have been hit by those rocks. Video here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXni0bQBR3E

After a 20 minute halt, the rocks were cleared and I carried on, through a small rain shower to the alpine meadows above a crazy section of hairpins.

The hairpins (switchbacks) are pretty hard to photograph, but I
have tried my best here. Hopefully it gives a good impression of the crazy way the Austro-Hungarians originally built the road up here, not sure they would do this sort of road-building nowadays.



I carried on and was passed by someone in full CSC kit on a Cervelo bike. Thinking it may have been a team member, I stopped to say hello and discovered that it was Dean from Australia, friends with team members but actually a bike shope owner over here for a bit of climbing.

The top of the pass at 2760 metres above sea level was the highest I have been with my bike, and the sun came out from the clouds in celebration. There were a few gift shops open where I bought some postcards and also the world's highest bratt-wurst stall with perhaps the jolliest patron.

He took my photo, he laughed alot and he served me a hotdog and laughed some more at his own jokes. They were pretty funny clearly. I had to take his picture.

The descent was cold and long and I was glad of the three layers I had on. I met up with Dean for some Italian dinner in Bormio and we agreed the next day we would climb the Gavia, it had been shut yesterday due to snow and would have been a shame to miss out on a climb that hosted a legendary stage of the Giro in 1988, where snow conditions were unbelievably extreme. The riders rode over the top in sub zero without gloves, arm warmers, hats etc....madness.

The Gavia is almost as high as the Stelvio and the bottom section dragged on for a while, but we were soon in alpine meadows and the temperature was dropping.
The scenery was still pretty snowy on the pass, but nothing compared to the postcards and pictures in the hut at the top. We grabbed a coffee and checked out the scarcely believable images of Andy Hampsten and co riding through the snow.

A summit photo and we descended, I didn't fancy the Mortirolo, now matter how easy I claimed it had been. Enough was enough.

I said goodbye to Dean, next stop Lake Como.

Bormio, The Stelvio, Mortirolo and Gavia Passes (almost)

The road to Italy from Austria involved stopping off in Lienz, which was a very nice town. And it had stuff open which was a bit of a novelty.

Note to Tourist information staff in Cortina d'Ampezzo.....before categorically stating that access to an internet terminal is absolutely not possible in town, check that the hotel immediately opposite doesn't have a computer available for immediate use.


I hit the autostrada, passed through some sleepy alpine towns before finally seeing the signs for the Stelvio Pass, my route into Bormio.

I had heard much about the Stelvio pass, supposedly it has 48 hairpins as it gains almost 1800 metres in height. Well, I was not prepared for what I found. The hairpins were very tight, the road was narrow and it seemed to go on for ever. The feeling that I was climbing into the clouds became an actuality as visibility came down to almost zero and the rain turned to snow. It has been 16c in the valley, it was now -1c at 2750m and my shorts and sandals were starting to feel a little inappropriate.

The road was barely open at the top...it was like the scene from 'The Thing' when Kurt Russell goes outside at the Antarctic base to investigate noises from the outbuildings....it was hostile. I didn't venture from the car for fear of expiring.

I finally arrived at a campsite in the warm and dry valley, it didn't seem possible that a few k's up the road the weather could be so different.

Next morning I set off for a classic loop, down the valley from Bormio, across the feared Mortirolo Pass, up to the huge Gavia Pass and then back down to Bormio.


The base of the climb was a little tricky to find (700m), but soon I was winding my way up hairpins before topping out at 1850 metres. I didn't think it was as hard as everyone (including Lance Armstrong) had said, it was steep and quite long but no too much difference from l'Alpe d'Huez in my estimation. Or maybe my legs are getting stronger.

Anyway, I dropped down the other side and headed for Punto di Legno (apparently the home of Benetton ?!) and grabbed a croissant in a roadside diner. To assist getting there I held on to the side of a tractor and trailer for a bit as they were doing a decent speed. The scene reminded me of those 'Man of the year' award photos...he was driving in a nice clean cab whilst the wife wearing dirty rags was kneeling in filth in the trailer. Oh Well, it was a welcome ride.

The waitress at the diner looked a little alarmed when I said I was about to cycle over the Gavia, but I assured her I would be fine, explaining that I had gloves etc...really it's no problem.

Until I got the the base of the climb to be confronted by the horror that the pass was closed ! Aaaagh ! A quick check in a restaurant to see if bikes were ok, and I discovered that the Stelvio was shut too. I was trapped in the wrong valley and the only way to get back was to go over the Mortirilo again...suddenly I was going to look foolish.....I took everything back about it being easy...please spare me ! The other option the lady in the restaurant recommended seemed to involve some town I had never heard of, most probably in the lowlands somewhere.....I might as well have gone back via Rome.

So I took the Mortirilo again. Actually the ride the other way wasn't too bad either, the only downer being the swarm of flies that swirled around me all the way up....I am sure it was the same flies as in Slonvenia. Weird why they do that, I thought it was just me until I rode by a chap who had twice as many above him.

It was a drag up the valley to the campsite, but I followed the wheel of a local chap with sinewy calves...he led me home.

As feared, the campsite was echoing to the now very familiar tones of an Austro-pop version of 'Mary had a little lamb'...seriously. Some Austrian cyclists nearby were playing this tape on constant loop. If anyone knows who is responsible for this noise...please let me know as I need to firebomb the recording studio.

Short clips from the last couple of days can be seen here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fygLa9TdK44

The Roof of Austria - The GrossGlockner

Broadsword to Danny Boy, Broadsword to Danny Boy......."The Schloss Adler.....The Eagle's Nest....and it´s well named as only an eagle could get to it"......etc etc etc....these were the words drifting in and out of my mind as I toiled to the 2571m summit of the GrossGlockner Pass in the Austrian Tyrol.

Of course Burton/Eastwood fans will recognise the script of 'Where Eagles Dare' and the area reminded me of the the film...surely there would be an impenetrable castle perched high on rocks as I turned the next corner ?

I had driven to to Venice airport to drop Amy off and then headed back into the mountains, only this time I didn´t stop and headed right over the border into Austria, the town of Lienz and then on to Hellingblut below the GrossGlockner itself.

There are many advantages to riding a bike, but an additional one is that you save €28 by not having to pay the toll to enter the national park. I smugly rode through whilst motorists glared at my cheap abandon...I could hear Kurt saying to Heidi in a parked car ....."why doesn't he have to pay ?".


This mountain was clearly big, so I settled into a rythym and watched the metres go by as I headed up to the Franz Jospeh hut next to the glacier. I can't remember the name of the glacier, it starts with a P and there are some CH's involved too. Petasch or something.

Alpine rides aren't best measured in distance, it's more relevant to measure in height climbed to gauge difficulty, and it was at about 2300 metres that I tuned into the visitors centre next to the glacier.

The glacier, although impressive, is but a pale imitation of it's former glory around 100 years ago. The ice has shrunk dramatically and you now need to get a long cable car ride down to the surface of the ice (which didn't seem worthwhile) The pics on the left show it the day I was there and also in it's heyday.....it really has largely disappeared.


It's still Austria's and the Eastern Alps largest glacier, but it's no Baltoro or Moreno.

I had passed 'Achtung Marmot !' signs along the way, and now I knew why. The little furry critters were gambolling on rocks next to the glacier and a couple got close enough to get some decent photos.

I wrote and posted a few postcards, toured the rather inspirational info centre (which involved walking through a mock-up cave in cycling shoes - hard) just as the the clouds rolled in and I got a bit cold and wet backtracking to the turn in the road
that would take me to the pass proper.

As I toiled up into the snowline it got tough and I had my death-face on (borrowed from Lance...basically a glazed eyed, sunken cheeks look as you deal with the pain) and passed a Dutch couple by the side of the road.

As passed she looked up with a big beaming smile, gave the thumbs up and said "cool !". You can count on the Dutch to appreciate cycling and my facade of being a serious cyclist immediately evaporated. I couldn't help responding with a huge smile and felt in better spirits as I continued up through dark and damp tunnels.

The last 150 vertical metres to the EidelwiessHutte basically involved a spiral of cobbled hairpins where the gradient rose significantly. This was like cycling the Patterberg at 2500 metres !
Fortunately the hut at the top was welcoming and I immediately ordered a wienershnitzel and beer as reward for my efforts. Another cyclist who had ridden up with full panniers had the same thoughts....and we tucked into some tasty fuel.

The descent was marked by tour bus fun. One that came by had an obviously enthusiastic tour rep on board because the entire double-decker gave me a wave as they sped by in the slush. This prompted me to initiate the waving next time, and a succession of tour buses will have waved to a bedraggled looking cyclist high up on the GrossGlockner. Hope they had fun.


It was a great ride, weather was a little ropey...but next stop Italy again and Bormio.