Friday 25th May. Royan (7) to Lacanau Ocean (8)
52.4 miles 4hrs 36m riding time. Average speed: 11.4mph Total: 371 miles
I have to question the wisdom of eating oysters on a cycling trip; suffice
to say the day began hurriedly. I strolled next door to a bar for breakfast,
there being no sign of ‘Madame Crystal’ at reception yet.
The thunder had started rumbling ominously as I was packing my luggage onto
my bike.
By the time I’d ridden the 400 metres to the port I was in the middle
of a tropical thunderstorm, the sky literally as black as night ripped apart
by huge flashes of sheet lightning. Horizontal driving rain was lashing
in from the sea as I scuttled for shelter behind the tollbooths to put my
waterproofs on before getting on the bac. The thunderstorm calmed during
the 30 minute crossing to Le Verdon and it was just drizzling as I rode
south on the N215. I figured that a dead-end ‘N road’ wouldn’t
be too busy so I followed it for about 10 miles before turning off onto
the D101 and heading west to the coast at Hourtin.
Hourtin plage consisted of just a handful of bungalows fronted by huge sand
dunes and the wildest wave-lashed Atlantic beach I have ever seen –
it was utterly deserted for as far as the eye could see.
The Atlantic Ocean at Hourtin plage
Cycle trails in this area of the huge Landes forest are shown on the Michelin map as thin red lines; I followed a sign for one into the thick pine trees of the Foret d’Hourtin. It turned out to be a rough, undulating 18inch-wide strip of flagstones cracked and broken by roots from the surrounding trees. Once committed, I had to suffer five kilometers of buttock-pummelling hell through the spookily deserted forest until I could get to a nice smooth tarmac road again. I think today’s mileage probably sees me at the halfway point in my journey.
I booked into the beachside Hotel L’Oyat in Lacanau Ocean. My room
– according to the patron, has ‘Tout conforts,’ (all comforts).
What it actually has is the most bizarre bath I’ve ever seen. It’s
not just one of the usual French ‘comedy’ baths that are far
too short to lie in, it also has an access panel cut out of its side that
makes it impossible to fill with water, therefore ruling out the possibility
of actually bathing in it. Tonight’s hotel room is exactly twice the
price of last night’s.
Tonight I’m dining in the hotel’s restaurant which is furnished
at the glass and stainless steel cutting edge of ‘tres moderne’
and has a soundtrack of hip jazz. I’ve eaten oysters again, (I never
learn) some excellent griddled squid with chorizo, and a dessert whose identity,
even after the third time of asking, remains a mystery.
Veloroute in the Foret du Hourtin