bikes

We leave Carcassonne riding between two UNESCO World Heritage Sites - the Canal Du Midi and the Cite Medieval. It's very exciting and the canal path welcomes us with a stately row of plane trees. What a surprise. An even bigger surprise is the flat front tyre Jenny (the name of Cathie's bike) gets beside a lock. I repair it in double quick time. Actually, it takes the usual 20 minutes of cursing and head scratching. Cathie gets back on Jenny and rides two metres before I notice the back tyre is flat as well. More cursing, more head scratching, more dunking the inflated tube into the canal to see if my repair held. It did. And we're away, hungry and frustrated and my... look at that path, isn't it splendidly bumpy and pock-marked and muddy and no wonder there's few cyclists out today. Every second barge we pass flies the Australian flag. It's peak season for 'g'days' shouted from the bow. Or is that the stern? Or the port side? Whatever.  In the afte...

No sane human would get bored of cycling under the majestic canopy of century-old plane trees. Right? But after 20,000 of the green and mighty blighters, it was nice to arrive in Toulouse where humans outnumbered falling leaves.  This morning, we cycled to the meeting point of the Canal du Garonne and Canal du Midi to say one last farewell to the Garonne and to officially begin the Canal du Midi journey at the correct location.  We share the path with rushing commuters and quite a lot of homeless people sleeping and living under the canal bridges. By mid-morning, we're back in the rural landscape and have the canal path largely to ourselves, save for the occasional couple out cycling, sans panniers.  The scenery is spectacular. Unlike the Garonne, the Canal du Midi feels much more like a slow-flowing river, with regular bends, overgrown trees and creepers and lovely views from the bank to the vineyards and rolling hills planted with wheat.  But, I'm shocked by the st...

Day Two: It's always pleasant to start the morning with a viewing of priceless art up close, with no-one else around, in a church of a small village in south-west France. Welcome to the parish church at Le Mas d'Agenais, a steep but short hill climb up from the Canal du Garonne. The painting in question is an early Rembrandt, depicting Christ on a Cross. I gaze at the painting for awhile. I could reach up, lift it off the wall and no-one would know a thing. Except you dear reader. But, I didn't. I went to the boulangerie and had a cannelle instead. Another masterpiece.  the lavoir at Le Mas d'Agenais We cycle between plane trees for the rest of the day until turning off the canal to Vianne, a wonderful bastide village surrounded by a high wall and with a history dating back to the 13th Century, of which little remains. Most of the existing buildings date from the 19th Century. I love the four arched entrances to the village and the towers at the corners. It'd be gre...