We have cycling along the Rhone valley to Montelimar. Built in Roman times, this is the world centre of nougat.
(I was brought up to pronounce it as 'nug-gut' but, like most folk, changed to 'noo- gah'. Pink and white halves, with a smattering of peanuts, it was responsible for premature removal of many fillings.)
Regrettably, many nougat producers have gone to the wall due to the fact that the new A7 Autoroute bypasses the town resulting in fewer tourists stopping for a feed.
A few days ago I stopped at an outward bounds centre to check our route. After having been pointed in the right direction, I left, not realising that I'd dropped the map. About 40 mins later we stopped at a crossroads to consult the said map. At that moment, and before we'd missed it, the guy drove up and passed us the map thro his car window. He'd blasted down the motorway then travelled back up the B road hoping to find us. How nice was that!
So far we have had no traffic incidents at all. Most of our roads have been so quiet. At times, I'm sure we've gone for an hour without seeing a car. But on the busier roads, like in and around towns the French drivers are so considerate to cyclists. They wait behind patiently until it's safe to overtake, even the French white van drivers.
Physically, our only problems have been sore/stiff shoulders/ neck, especially Jackies. (A tube of medication, given to us by our mum, has been invaluable.) Also the 'derrière' can be a tad sore towards the end of a long stage.
By mistake, we booked into a one star hotel last night. Well, it was getting dark. My first ever one-starrer! It was very cheap. Almost free but lacking a certain je ne c'est quoi. I think it must've been based on a Tunisian prison. If they'd tried harder, they could have enhanced the experience (in a good way) by providing light bulbs.
The Rhone valley is stunning. The wide meandering river. The craggy hills to our right with vines everywhere. And to our left, great views of the Alps.
We've caught up time now. 280 miles in 3 days!
We are in the groove. Pedals spinning faster every day (Waynetta! What was in those sachets of powders you gave us?)
Le petit peloton is flying!
Heading south...