Day 9: Narbonne to Sète

Before I forget, a few things I failed to mention in the last post or two that are certainly note worthy.

1. When I was staying at the nice Belgian lady’s B&B in Leucate she was surprised to hear I was from Canada. I assumed she must have thought I was American. But when I asked her where she thought I was from she said, “I definitely thought you were from the continent – British, or maybe Irish.” This was a wonderful compliment because it meant I have a slight Euro-vibe, and also I don’t appear to act like an American!
2. I forgot the other thing I was going to say.

It has finally happened – I no longer know what day of the week it is. Nor what the date is. Of course, I really cannot complain however, it makes it difficult to keep track of where I am going which day and what accommodation I have booked for when. I just remembered what I was going to write in number 2 above.

2.2. The afternoon I had checked into my B&B in Leucate and emerged from my shower I noticed two missed calls, a voicemail, and one urgent sounding text asking when I was going to check in. Me, being the daft dingle I am, texted the number back: “Is this Arlette? I checked in about half an hour ago. The girl with the bike.” Then I check my email and see that there is an email from a different hotel that I had booked for the SAME night in a nearby town. Luckily I was able to get almost a full refund, but yikes – it got me in line on trying to stay organized with my bookings.

Anyways, back to today. I had a major breakthrough with the panniers. Real top of the line, cutting-edge technical solutions. I inserted a ripped off corner of a napkin around the rack creating a secure fastening between the pannier clasps and the rack tube. I also bungy-corded the problematic pannier securely to the bike frame. I am frustrated with myself at having forgotten to photograph it but I am sure you can mentally picture it: white, soiled breakfast napkin shards sticking out of my pannier holders. At the end of the day when I arrived at my hostel in Séte, I took the panniers off in the reception area and later realized there were little clumps of napkin littered across the floor…

The ride was mostly flat and straight forward today. It seems that generally the riding in France has been less exerting that in Northern Spain – but perhaps that is just along the coast where I am. I stopped for coffee in Beziers and lunch in Adges. Both were kind of scuzzy around the edges but charming in the historic centres. I was glad to be in both for just a quick stop rather than a long stay.

For about 15 km before reaching Séte from the south I was riding on a paved and dedicated bike path between the beach bluffs and vegetation. It was glorious save for the headwind.

Once I arrived in Sète I had to do a final circle half way around the little peninsular island to reach my hostel. Sète seems to be a town of contradictions, but mostly just bland. It is a port town and has the typical commercial paraphernalia that goes along with being such. Included are cruise ship harbour and a carnival along the boardwalk (but not a quaint old French town type carnival, more of the “neon-lights, creep infested chaotic affair you align with a Chucky horror film” type). But, despite some of the less appetizing sights, there is a great deal in Sète to enjoy for one afternoon and evening.

Once I had checked in, I noticed another person with a bike suited up with panniers near the reception. This Swiss guy, probably around my age, has been bicycle touring and camping for the past 7 days and has gone 1000 km’s. Now, that is insane.

I went to a bizarre museum, the International Museum of Modest Arts, this afternoon. This was a collection of seemingly everyday items reassembled and configured to get you thinking, among other oddities. I quite liked it. Later I walked along the promenade as far as the Corniche. I walked down the cliffside path to a tucked away beach and put my feet in the water. Great views and a decent breeze to hinder my profuse sweating. I don’t know what it is but even after a cold shower and lying naked and completely still for at least ten minutes, the moment I move again I am enveloped in a cocoon of moisture.

Finally, I returned to the historic centre for a drink and had the best surprise of the day: a Facetime call from Leah! We chit chatted while I sat by the canal and enjoyed my cocktail.

I loitered a bit and tried to determine the best move for dinner. I ended up at a local pizza joint that was run by an Italian, Chez Melo (Melo for Carmelo – the Italian chef). It was absolutely delicious. I was sat at the loner table where other single people are put. At first I was confused when I arrived at about 8:30 pm and there were plenty of open tables but the maître D seemed to have a hard time deciding where to place me. In the end I am glad he could fit me at said loner table because the pizza was amazing. And shortly after I had sat down and ordered the place filled up completely to the gills and probably turned over at least once before I had finished. I enjoyed talking to the locals at my table and learning about the area. Even got a talking to by a guy who apparently saw Jimi Hendrix before he was famous in a small pub in Northern France… Okay okay okay.

Tomorrow I head off for a long ride into the great blue yonder in search of a little town called Arles. Until tomorrow.

DOTD

It was a Winnie stacked day – aka Cavalier King Charles Spaniels!