Red terracotta roofs, sun bleached stone walls, dusty vineyard lanes. But the IKEA is still blue. Jenn and I made a multi modal run out to the big blue box in Avignon for some home essentials. Between bikes, trains and deliveries we’re slowly getting the place furnished. The electricity is finally fully functional, but internet service is still in process. Update: The furniture delivery did not go as expected. You see, in the 1400s some fancy this or that built a big wall around their castle and installed a big gate. In 1792, some folks from the next village over decided they'd had enough of that castle and tore it down, though the gate survives and remains the only passage wide enough for a van to drive though. Unfortunately IKEA's delivery partner did not bring a van. No, they brought a giant box truck that did not fit through the aforementioned 15th century passage. They offer that they could either take all the stuff away, or drop it in the street and we could sort it out. We chose the later, and sorted it out.
We’re back, and we’ll be back again, because we bought this house. Perched upon the rampart of Caromb, a lively village between Mont Ventoux and Les Dentelles de Montmirail, it has three compact levels and a cellar. The cellar is, well, rustic, but the rest is nice. Built in 1880, it’s one of the newer structures in the village center. So… what are y’all doing before PBP 2027?
Rain in the forecast, and the need to get packed. One quick loop up to Suzette, down to Malaucène, past the abbey, around Le Barroux, through Caromb and back to Carpentras. This ride put me over 200,000ft of elevation for the year. Took a moment at the ruined, though not actually very old, aqueduct.
“Make a plan and stick to it” is good advice if the plan is “have a good time”. Les Dentelles are a little slice of gravel heaven. Steep, sometimes smooth, sometimes chunky, usually flowy, often fast. My route for the morning was a typical Suzette loop, but, “the plan” necessitated this dirt detour.
Some roads go nowhere and that’s cool. Pretty sure it’s a metaphor for life.
Over the hills for lunch, and back around for bottles of wine
When the rain wasn’t falling from the sky, it was thrown up by the masses of mudguard-less riders. The damp hung in the air, blew across the peaks and swept through the trees. The fog would stick around until late afternoon. I think I changed gloves twenty times. We’d ridden part of the route on a sunny day earlier in the month, so the contrast was interesting if not exactly pleasant. This is the only French brevet I’ve ridden aside from PBP. I expected better food along the route, though the club did serve a three course meal with drinks upon arrival. We scarfed that down and rode the five miles to catch the train to Carpentras under clear skies.
Arrived on the train, rather far south of Bolléne, an industrial town along the motorway. Rode to the hotel in sleet and gale force gusts. 200km brevet starts at 6am.
Whatevs. Probably should take it easy anyway.
We somehow avoided the rain, but it was soggy out. We’re signed up for a 200k brevet this weekend and as of a moment ago, there are 150 riders. Rando is popular here.
