Autumn bike ride

Hello and welcome to the latest blog from The Olivia Rose Diaries on October 2nd 2025. We’ve just finished our autumn bike trip and I thought I would share it with you.

‘ I’ve got this down to a fine art,’ I said, very pleased with myself, as I looked at the tiny pile of clothing that was coming with me on tour. ‘They weigh hardly anything.’

And indeed they didn’t. And there was loads of space left for extra items like lunch and buying food for our evening meals. But then I turned my back for a minute and other things somehow found their way into my panniers. My Kindle, a notepad, my purse (you’d be amazed how heavy loose change is), phone and connectors, my bike battery charger, a water bottle, a family-sized pack of Chunky Kit-Kats, tea bags and tin mug for morning tea/coffee stop which is essential for an energy boost, general happiness and well-being. We always take the smallest of gas stoves with us as you can never rely on finding a café when you want one, or you might find one but it is closed (happens a lot in France). Then there are the bare minimum of toiletries, a small bag of potatoes and a couple of apples that I couldn’t leave behind just to go to waste, a tiny plastic bottle of olive oil for cooking, a couple of plastic plates for our DIY evening meals, a very clever knife/fork/bottle opener set, and so it went on.

‘I can hardly lift these now.’ I grimaced as I picked one of them up. So everything came out and the process began again. It is amazing how difficult it is to pack light. And equally amazing how long it takes to be so indecisive.

But finally we were ready. As is so often the way on our bike rides, we had chosen a route that followed the water, the River Baïse initially until it met up with the Canal de la Garonne, at which point we would turn east and cycle to Toulouse. From there we would turn towards home, taking a two hour train journey to Tarbes and then just a couple of hours of riding to reach Le Shack. We had planned for six days of cycling and around 360km in total.

Our first day was an easy 48 km, reasonably hilly but nothing onerous. After two months of being at Le Shack, confined by a heatwave that never seemed to end plus various DIY commitments that also never seemed to end, the freedom of the open road was a heady experience. The crippling heat of summer had broken, it finally felt like autumn, and we luxuriated in the feel of crisp early morning air on our faces. We settled into a steady pace and watched the countryside changing as the days progressed. We began with spent sunflowers, feeling sorry for themselves with their heads hanging low, waiting to be harvested and a very different sight to when they are in full bloom. Where there are sunflowers, you usually find maize, and this too was looking dead as it always does at this time of the year. Autumn is a time of harvesting but also a time for re-planting and so every now and then we would come across a ploughed field, finely tilled, tiny seedlings in regimented and ordered rows.

Autumn is also the time for foraging. The thought of wandering down a forest track, sunlight flickering through the leaves and casting a dappled shade on the undergrowth, basket hanging over one’s arm, bending down now and then to pick up a parasol mushroom, is a pleasing one. But this is France, where mushroom picking is a serious business and, as the sign below shows, you can’t just go picking anywhere without the right paperwork.

We arrived in the charming town of Trie sur Baïse late afternoon, stopped off at a supermarket to buy a DIY salad concoction and a pear and chocolate tart and ate our evening meal on the balcony of our hotel room. A gentle stroll round town and early to bed. Perfect.

Day 2 saw us following the Velo Route de Vallée de la Baïse, our evening stopping point the small town of Valence sur Baïse. It would be a longer day, around 78 km, but we had assumed that it wouldn’t be too hilly as were following the river along the valley floor. When we looked more closely at the route planner however we realised that if we wanted to avoid the main road we would have to forsake the valley floor and follow a roller-coaster ride up and down the steep hills that bordered the river.

Sometimes there is a price to pay for a quiet road and our legs were definitely telling us that they weren’t amused by the time we finally arrived at our bnb accommodation that night. Our bikes were also feeling the strain as my bike battery had literally one kilometre left in it and Michael’s back tyre had got a slow puncture and needed patching. Even the battery on our phone had run out!

We had booked a room in a house on the edge of town, a very peaceful spot, and the owner told us that she regularly saw deer in the adjoining field, that a wild boar family came right up to the house at times and that she had found a hare lying underneath one of her shrubs. Fearing it was dead, she approached and it was only when she was within touching distance that it woke up and then shot off. Much as I wanted to wait up and see the resident wildlife, I was just too tired. It really was early to bed that night.

Day 3, a mere 53km, saw us stopping for coffee in Condom. Standing outside the church a fellow cyclist came over for a chat.

She and her friend had begun their journey from Strasbourg and were following the Camino trail to Spain. I felt embarrassed to admit that we were only on the road for six days, but actually I didn’t envy her. I have no great desire to spend months in the saddle and am quite happy with our short trips.

Day 4 was another 74km ride but by this time we had reached the Canal de la Garonne and so it was a flat ride from now on which made it much easier. The maize and sunflowers had been replaced by fruit orchards, a glut of shiny red apples just asking to be picked, and we reminisced as we cycled along because we had travelled on this canal seven years ago on Olivia Rose.

Arriving in Moissac for the night we walked past the spot where we had moored up back in 2018, more fond memories.

We had already booked our accommodation, another room in a house but with the use of their kitchen, so we could cook our own meal. However, for the first time in all our experience of staying in many such places, the levels of hygiene were somewhat worrying so we treated ourselves to a meal out instead.

Having arrived under grey skies, the morning of Day 5 dawned blue and beautiful.

We had 74 km to go to reach Toulouse and today turned out to be a day of contrasts. The first 50km was magical. I can’t explain exactly why but this particular canal has a unique feel to it, serene and calm, and as I cycled along I felt myself slipping into the same peaceful mindset. That’s one of the wonderful things about riding on a bike along a beautiful  stretch of water, with the trees and sky a perfect reflection. The rest of the world just melts away.

And then abruptly it all changed. The last section of the cycle trail, 20km running through the outskirts of Toulouse and into the heart of the city, was noisy, smelly and ugly. We had railway sidings and industrial units on one side and six lanes of motorway traffic on the other. The noise was deafening. The traffic fumes mingled with the smell of industry and the soft colours of autumn leaves were replaced by the dull grey of railway lines, overhead cables and factories. Areas of wasteland had been taken over by fly tippers and were full of rubbish. Cities – you can keep them. They’re not for us.

We had booked into a no-frills hotel chain called Hotel BnB for the night. We’ve used them before and they offer excellent value for money and a very good all-you-can-eat breakfast, which Michael regards as something of a challenge. If you book online the room costs 60 euros. If you turn up in person it is 90 odd euros. There is no receptionist, just a concierge who can be called on the intercom if you have a problem, but the expectation is that most people gain entry by a code that they will email to you on receipt of your payment. There is a keypad by the front door, another by your room and the help-yourself breakfast is available from 5.30am in the morning for 11 euros per person. We stored our bikes below ground in their secure storage, more keypads, enjoyed a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. Air bnb’s in the city were all more expensive, usually flats, often likely to be commercial landlords rather than private homes, and with nowhere to keep the bikes.

Every time we go away like this I am struck by how the organisation of our various trips has changed over the years. Everything is done on the phone: our route planner, our accommodation, where to find a supermarket or where to eat out. If you didn’t have a phone, your choices would be very limited, and probably more expensive. If you weren’t technically competent, or just couldn’t stand the thought of spending hours working out all the options and getting to grips with all the different apps that are now unavoidable, travel would be difficult. I confess that I am certainly technically incompetent, if not downright dangerous as the phone has a meltdown if I even look at it, and I am also utterly disinterested in doing all the research. Luckily for me, I have Michael. A few days ago he suggested that I might like to plan our next trip, but then he saw the look of panic on my face and thankfully came to his senses. Our lives are played out with our phones as our closest companions. Can you imagine how it would be without them? For better and for worse.

Day 6 saw the alarm going off at 6.30am. A leisurely breakfast and then we followed the cycle trail along the canal to the railway station to catch the 8.30 train. Certain trains have special places for bikes, at no extra charge, so we loaded them up, and two hours later arrived in Tarbes and a final 35 km ride to take us back to our front door.

As each year passes without a car, we grow to love travelling on our bikes even more. It keeps us fit and is intensely satisfying. At times of course the day feels too long, one hill too many, but that’s just the way it goes and even then there is the sense of achievement in arriving, no matter how much your thigh muscles are complaining. Combined with the train we can still do most of the things we want to and if we really need a car we can hire one for a week.

Next week we head back to Valence and Olivia Rose for a month on board. We won’t be cruising, rather using her as a base from which to explore the stunning countryside of the Drôme. But more on that over the coming weeks.

See you again soon.

MJ