On the road again.

Hello and welcome to The Olivia Rose Diaries on August 30th 2024. We’re on the road again. We left two days ago and I thought I would share my journey with you.

It’s 7am at Le Shack and already it’s 18 degrees. Our bikes are standing on the gravel by the front door, panniers packed, and we shall shortly be on the road once more, travelling to our latest housesit. Our destination is a tiny hamlet called St-Cécile- du-Cayrou, approx 200km away, the other side of Toulouse, where we will be looking after one cat.

There is something special about setting off this early, not quite dark but not yet properly light. A deer barks in the woods as we cycle up the hill away from home, harsh, discordant. We pass through villages where the shutters are still closed. Nothing stirs. I admire a cat sculpture on a column and it turns it’s head as I pass, the cat blinking disdainfully as if to say ‘foolish human’.

Ninety minutes and 30 km later we arrive at Tarbes train station. This is our nearest large town but, other than the fact that it has the larger shops when we occasionally need them, I can think of nothing to commend it. It has an unhealthy lethargy about it, the buildings run-down, paint peeling from tired cafés where the shine wore off so long ago that neither the people who work there nor their grey-faced customers can remember it being any different. It’s the perfect advert for a lost town and, as if to prove the point, a group of men all dressed in black sit cross-legged at the entrance to the station, begging bowls on the pavement. One of them hawks up phlegm, a horrible  noise, turns to the side and spits. The man sitting next to him must see something in my face as he  offers me a half smile of apology. I wonder about his past life, and what happened for him to spend his days in such a way.

We load our bikes aboard the train and less than two hours later we arrive in Toulouse.

The contrast at the train station in Toulouse is marked. The atmosphere is vibrant, buzzing, both people and cafés are city-chic. The cycle lanes are painted a lurid, but easily seen, lime green. With traffic lights flashing, horns blaring and drivers occasionally shouting we need our wits about us. Also something happens to Michael whenever we cycle through a city. He goes faster, as if all that energy is contagious, and I have to go full pelt to keep up with him.

Once out of the city the pace slows down again. We have another 37 km to go before we reach our stopping place tonight, an Airbnb, and the temperatures are now up in the low thirties. The air is so hot it feels as if a hairdryer blows on our faces as we pedal along. We arrive at 3pm, hot and sweaty, but triumphant after a hilly, challenging ride. Our host takes pity on us and provides the best gift we could ask for – two huge bowls of ice- cream!

Later we walk down into town to buy provisions for dinner. We’re in bed by 9.50 and asleep by 9.51.

8am the next morning and we’re off again. Just 46 km to cover today but it’s still hot and we have some steeper climbs. The first half of the route is gentle, following the Tarn valley and we stop in Lisle-Sur-Tarn for a coffee and a chocolatine. After that we begin to climb.

How easy or difficult cycling is depends on a number of factors: heat, wind and, crucially, the level of gradient. A long gradual ascent is much easier than a shorter, steeper one. Today we had long and steep, and it felt as if gravity was working against us, as if the road was trying to tip us backwards.

But then comes the descent, the reward for all that effort. The road becomes our friend, not our foe, and treats us to a sinuous, elegant slalom through the cool dark forest, the canopy sheltering us from the cruel sun.

Finally we arrive at our new home for the next ten days. Unusually there is no-one to welcome us but the cat, Watson. His owners have a long journey and left first thing this morning. A list of how things work has been left on the table with a bottle of wine as a welcome gift.

Our first priority is a dip in the pool. Watson has other ideas. His tummy needs rubbing…..

And that’s it for now. More next week.

MJ