Today’s ride: 103km, 1436m elevation
Total to date: 1209km, 14111m elevation
This morning we woke to another morning of glorious sunshine, and the contrasting sadness that comes with the final day of tour. I did everything ‘for the last time’; waking up to birdsong, emergency waddle to the toilets for a morning wee, packing up, making coffee. Nice was less than 100km away and barring catastrophe I wouldn’t need to do any of these things tomorrow. We had a last breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and crusty bread, waved goodbye to the friendly campsite manager, and headed up for the first climb of the day.
The main route from Puget-Theniers into Nice is the D6202 and for anyone reading this blog looking for information on the safety of that route, let me answer all your Googles: it isn’t safe for bikes. It isn’t wide enough for the speed that the cars are doing and although the section from Entrevaux was ok the road gets busier, and by the Tunnel de la Mescla five major roads have joined the route. While researching this trip I wasn’t able to find out definitively whether it’s safe for bikes or not but I wouldn’t risk it.
Instead we took on the Col de Saint-Raphaël, a lovely wooded climb with hairpins and occasional astonishing views of the valley below. I felt good and was up for stretching my legs, and I had soon completed the 465m climb. Graeme soon joined me, and before long we were passing through hillside villages, passing through gorges and zipping down descents. We stopped in La-Roque-en-Provence, where geography has dictated that there must be a village at the confluence of three gorges but also that its size must be limited. Refreshed, we moved on further the long slow climb up to Conségudes and Bouyon. It was hot but shady, and we each loved st our own pace. The woodlands here smelt of pine and coconut, and we found cool refreshing water in the occasional villages we passed through. Once in a while, when the route climbed higher above the treetops, we caught a whiff of salt in the air. The coast was inching closer.
At Bouyon we broke for cheese and beer, and took a moment to raise a glass to departed friends and family. This is a tradition we always have on bike tour, being of an age where not all of our school friends are no longer with us. This year the raising of a glass was especially poignant following the recent loss of my stepfather Kerry; without his struggles we may not have had the motivation to do this this trip now rather than leaving it until it was too late. I took an extra moment to raise my glass a second time for him.
From Bouyon there was one more climb, the long but shallow Col de Vence that would bring us in sight of distant Nice. It was our final climb, all downhill from here. Well, supposedly: we took a meandering route through the suburbs that took longer and climbed more than expected, and eventually came in along a busy road on the right bank of the Var through some crazy satellite town traffic. We persevered and eventually came out at the airport, where a fantastic protected bike lane runs all the way along the front. Airport gave way to beachfront glamour, the Hotel Negresco, Promenade des Anglais, and finally the spiritual end of our journey – the #ilovenice sign at the foot of Castle Hill.
Nice is my favourite place in the world and my only regret was that my family weren’t there with me at the end. I had the original idea for this trip while on family holiday in Nice and we had planned for the family to come out for a few days to celebrate with us at the end. Cost and timing eventually put paid to that plan but I knew they were watching my little dot from home, and we’d celebrate together when I got back.
But for now, it was time for Graeme and I to enjoy Nice, and to reward ourselves for ten days of hard riding across France.
