The weather continues to be good to us: another fine day with some predicted light showers. Today we are doing what we have termed “the cheese run”. Visiting a few places and then to the famous village of Camembert. Perhaps a few samples on the way ?

As we are heading generally west towards the English Channel and given that we will be in prime milk producing country, I guess we will expect to see different land use and topography. “ We should plenty of cows”, I detailed to Fred. “Seen one, seen then all”, was the somewhat direct yet inappropriate reply.

Poor cattle, they work hard to produce those plastic bottles and cardboard cartoons: imagine a Friedan cow putting caps on the plastic bottles, let alone folding the tops of the cardboard cartons !! I felt Fred’s comment to be somewhat lacking of the “caring and sharing” attitude that we had developed over the many years of marriage. Something that we role modelled for our children and now grandchildren. Perhaps not the time to lament ?

Our first stop was a major town of Lisreux: where we found (surprisingly) a Notre-Dame in the centre of the town. This one was a little special as it had evidence of different periods of architecture. So apparently for such inclined aficionados this cathedral is sacrosanct. Fred and I could see the differences, so we felt impressed with such powers of observations.

Not long out of Lisreux we noticed many signs indicating “pommes de la Terre” We think it meant that you could either dig up your own potatoes, or at least purchase them from the farm: canola was very common as well. Many of the fields in full bloom and just about ready to harvest.

But still a lack of those furry little critters that Fred is so favourably disposed toward : her Friesian contingent.

Magically, we came across a closed road with people milling around. “Perhaps there was a “La Tour” coming through ?”, I so expertly observed. Quicker than you can say “antidisestablishmentarianism”, I stopped the car and took off to the nearby roundabout with the trusty iPad. A few good photos to send back: an opportunity to experience some real French culture and lifestyle !! 

Sure enough, the finely tuned perception skills came to the fore: police motorcycles came thundering down the road, while the highway traffic just banked up, with the drivers turning off their engines. They just accepted the inconvenience of being held up. meanwhile the few of us that were gathered around, seemed rather excited.

Not long after, along came the peloton of riders. No leaders as such, with the riders chatting amongst themselves. Some of the chat with team members and some with the nearby non-team member. The peloton split and went either side side of the roundabout: the pressure didn’t seem to be on, a bit like a Sunday ride really.

The peloton quickly disappeared down a side road: the gendarmerie opened our road and so one the way we were. “Wow, a bit of French sporting life”, I keenly expressed. “Look at these photos”, I continued. “Almost as good as friesian cattle”, Fred quipped. “I guess they are”, I summarised this exchange of enlightenment.

We weren’t to know but this Paris-Camembert Tour was going to be the focus of the remainder of our day.

Further up the road was the small town of Laxroix. The closer we came to this place, the more obvious it became that the Tour we had just experienced, was going to heavily influence for the reminder of the day.  

We stopped and joined the “arrivee” platform (the sectional finishing line). The race was only some 75% done. 

Parking our car in the grounds of some Jardine (garden) area. A sort of park: plenty of other cars here so let’s give it a go.

Laxroix was closed down to allow the streets to be part of the Tour as we were to find out later, many other major roads. It appears that when a tour comes to your area, it is declared as a “National holiday”. Well, if it not, the French seem to make a personal declaration.

We walked to the finishing line where there was a strong crowd lining the partitioned off streets waiting in expectation for the peloton to come roaring down the Rue to complete the 182 kilometres in just over 3 hours.

We had to wait: sampling the sponsor’s (La Petit) Camembert that was on offer. The excited local commentators rambling on in french belting loudly in the local area.

While waiting, we were to determine a few things:

I guess that we were lucky to come across this: we were to have some other “tour” experiences later that day and beyond.

We still hadn’t made our objective, so we headed off to nearby Camembert. The closed roads and subsequent country farm tracks we had to negotiate to get there, were something to behold. So far into the french countryside did we travel, I think we discovered 3 new villages and were the first “whiteman” seen in these parts for years !!

On a few occasions we were literally travelling down farm tracks and had to pull over to allow vehicles coming in the opposite direction to get past. Each time that we came to civilisation, there was a road block, even though the tour had passed through some time ago. Nearing our objective the final “straw” almost confronted us. Another road block: some locals standing around chatting indicated that we would have to turn around and go back. 

This would have been somewhat frustrating, as we had battled to get here and to go back through this would be somewhat a pain in the posterior region.

To our delight, the gendarmes opened the road and so we were able to head toward Camembert. This was achieved in a few minutes, only to find that the small village (about 3 houses and one church), was “closed”. Nothing to see and do: we travelled all this way for not even a piece of cheese !!

Not even a cheese factory in sight !! Come to think of it, not too many cattle is sight as well. I guess Fred would have been (at least) superficially upset with this ?

The tour passed through here earlier and so people just packed up and went home !! The sign postings of the route along the hilly narrow Rues being a testament to this. I guess the organisers spend some subsequent time, collecting the distance tags etc with the sponsor’s name all over them. Perhaps a few potential souvenirs were on the offering ?

From Camembert we decided to head for home, 90 minutes away.

Just a footnote or two to the tour:

In closing, I just wish to indicate that seeing the bike race was “wheely” great and our lucky “brake”. A “chain” of events that we most likely remember for sometime: this has now “geared” us up to watch the upcoming Tour with some interest.

Au revoir