Orléans looked splendid in this morning’s sunshine. The city’s most famous son is a daughter: Joan of Arc, defender of the French Nation, who played a big role in the Siege of Orléans in the 1400s. She is commemorated in many ways, such as a cannabis shop called the Marie Jeanne d’Arc CBD. I think they missed a trick: they could have called it Joan of Narc.
A statue of her on horseback, perhaps off to bend the ear of Charles VII about some divine mission, also dominates the main square.
The place is also known for its magnificent cathedral – unusually for me, only partially smothered in scaffolding for renovation – and its fine art gallery opposite, serving today as a wedding photography venue evidently.
However, I was most impressed by a stretch of yellow paint on the road in the shadow of the cathedral that marked the point of the Grand Départ of the 2024 Tour de France.
It was very chilly despite the sun as I set off along the north bank, following the unmistakeable Loire riverside path. After half an hour I realised it wasn’t, and I should have been on the south bank.
I was actually pleased with my mistaken choice. Rather than wandering through woods or fields, this particular gravel path ran right alongside the canal, which itself paralleled the adjacent river below it. It was busy with joggers, walkers, cyclists, and a posse of boy scouts on bikes all bearing improbably large rucksacks.
Eventually I got to a small off-piste back-roads town with the sort of bakery where locals exchange cheery conversation with cycle tourists. My sort of touring. A decent D road led me back to the Loire path after which it was sunny, quiet levée roads. Very nice.
I stopped in Jargeau to snack on a dauphinoise in the market square, mainly to find out what a dauphinoise is. (It’s cheesy.) The square was empty save for a mobile bike mechanic.
The forecast had been zero chance of precipitation, so I wasn’t surprised when it clouded over and it started to rain again. I stopped in St Benoit for a coffee in a friendly local cafe and was amused to see signs to a village called Lazy.
I arrived at my target, a campsite on the edge of Sully, by 3ish. As I checked in it started to bucket down. I managed to put up the tent in a dry intermission but once up it threw it down again. With no common room or cycle facilities available, and the unattractive prospect of sitting in a tent in a downpour, I rode into town, rain or no rain.
Crossing the river was easy thanks to an old rail bridge recently converted into a pedestrian and cycle way into town. Sully’s USP is its fine chateau which, unlike most others along the Loire, is not a few kilometres off the river but is right in the centre of town.
I spent a long time admiring it through the magnificently changing evening sun light, rainbows and all. Mainly because I was sitting in the Castle Pub opposite, eating a burger and enjoying a pint of local cask ale.
Miles today: 34
Miles since Saint-Nazaire: 317