Dieppe to Quincampoix
or
Tribute to Anquetil Ride
It was a bright and early start to catch the 8.00am Transmanche
ferry at Newhaven on the 21st May 2005 for our weekend cycle ride
in picturesque and tranquil France. We had planned to use the fast
Seacat service but following a breakdown in negotiations between
Hoverspeed and Transmanche, this quick Channel crossing has been
cancelled for 2005. Consequently, we had four very tedious hours
to kill before the boat berthed in Dieppe's harbour.
We bade farewell to another cyclist with whom we had conversed at
length during the crossing and was heading for the D-Day beaches. I
led my colleagues, Barry, Peter, Robert and Will, out of Dieppe past
the railway station and onto the D154 to Rouxmesnil Bouteilles. Turning
right off the main road, a short climb took us up onto the ridge that
took us all the way to Sainte Foy. The country roads were virtually
deserted, the surface was a delight to cycle on and the kilometres
were soon reeled off.
It had been just after noon when we set off and as the afternoon
rolled on, it got warmer and a few stops followed to peel off a layer
or two. From Sainte Foy there was a wonderful descent with swooping
bends into Longueville-sur-Scie where we crossed over the swift flowing
stream to the D3. We now cycled along the bottom of the Scie valley
accompanied by the soothing sound of running water as it tumbled it's
way over the occasional weir as we made our way towards Auffay. An
enforced stop by a little bridge next to a weir to repair Will's
puncture gave us the opportunity to have a picnic with the supplies
that we had brought with us.
Another layer was peeled off and then we were away again continuing
south into the village of Auffay with it's pretty church containing
animated bell-ringing figures on the side of the tower. On leaving
Auffay, the sides of the valley started closing in and one of those
long gradual climbs faced us all the way up to St. Victor l'Abbaye on
the N29. The gradients on these French hills are amazingly constant and
once into a nice pedalling rhythm, one can maintain a good steady
cadence rate for as long as it takes to reach the summit. A short stop
to re-group at the crossroads and then it was straight on south on the
D3 through Grugny to Cleres.
The town of Cleres is in the bottom of another valley so after
another sweeping descent, a stop for a few beers was called for before
attempting the long haul back up out of the valley. Sitting in the
centre of the old town in the sunshine sipping beer opposite the old
market place, the manic traffic-crazed roads of southern England were
a million miles away. But 'tempus fugit', so we remounted our heavily-
laden cycles and started on the long climb south to Mont Cauvaire while
taking in the view across the valley to the chateau at the Park Zoo on
the outskirts of Cleres.
Another descent with several sweeping hairpin bends reminiscent of
Le Tour lifted our spirits and tested our brakes and terminated at the
little village of Grand Tendos - no we hadn't crossed the border but it
was a somewhat Spanish-style village on the D44. Staying on the D3, we
cycled on through Bosc-Guerard and into the Forêt Verte where another
brake-testing descent brought us to the rather abrupt junction with the
D66. Turning right onto the D66, we proceeded to Isneauville where we
booked a table at a restaurant before continuing on to our B&B at La
Houssaye just outside of Preaux. Our very kind host offered to provide
a taxi service for us to the restaurant. So after a wash and brush-up
and change of clothing, the five of us sat down to a rather unusual
plate of nouvelle cuisine consisting of small portions of each item on
the menu followed by a similar plateful of desserts!
The next day, Sunday 22nd May, I had planned a visit to Quincampoix
to see the memorial to Jacques Anquetil and to visit his grave in the
old churchyard. We all enjoyed a hearty breakfast of muesli, bread and
farmhouse-made jams washed down with orange juice and weak tea. This
was followed by a rendition by Will on the piano of an old French song
which was greatly appreciated before we were on our way again.
The memorial is easy to find as it is right on the crossroads in
the centre of the village and after a few photographs, we made our way
to the church with a neatly pollarded tree-lined path leading up to the
entrance. Anquetil's grave is to the right of the church and is in the
style of an open book with an engraved tablet depicting the cycling
great riding his bicycle. We all commented on the neatness and tidiness
of all of the villages that we had passed through with absolutely no
graffiti anywhere and hardly any litter at all! After a few minutes of
reflection, it was decided that we should be making our way back to
Dieppe and I had planned to return by a different route so we cycled
northwards through St. George-sur-Fontaine to Fontaine-le-Bourg.
Sunday morning in every village in France has become 'car-boot sale'
day so every villager can be found trying to flog their trinkets(mainly
junk!) in the market places and so it was in Fontaine-le-Bourg. We
stopped for a wander around and eyed over a few tatty '60s racing cycles
before continuing on our way.
The D44 followed alongside the river Cailly to the village of Cailly
itself where we took the D24 towards Rocquemont. A few kilometres of
country lanes between fields of barley waving gently in the breeze
brought us to the D928 and we were soon bowling along at 18+mph on the
flat straight road into St. Martin-Osmonville. Then a short ride took
us to the town of St. Saens. Sunday is also a difficult day to find any
shops open especially just after noon so we split up and did a quick
tour of the town and the only available eating-place was a Turkish Kebab
restaurant. Scanning the menu above the counter, we asked about the
chicken and the beef only to be greeted by a shake of the head and a
finger pointing at a column of meat rotating on the vertical spit and
the word 'veau'. Apparently, you could have anything so long as it was
veau - veau with salad, veau with chips or just veau! Recollections of
the Monty Python sketch over, we tucked into plates of veau and chips
or should I say four plates and one plastic tray with a paper napkin on
it! Not only did this place only have four plates; they only had three
glasses so two of us had to drink their beers straight from the bottles!
While we were having lunch, a short shower had wetted the roads but
as we emerged, the sun returned to assist us on our way out of St. Saens
on the D154. However, it was short-lived and as the darkening clouds
gathered, the heavens opened up as we were passing a golf course so we
took shelter in the tree-lined avenue that led up to the chateau-style
clubhouse. Having donned waterproof clothing, the rain eased a little
so we pressed on through Rosay to Bellencombre. Then, as the clouds
passed over, the sun re-emerged and at the junction of the D22, we
removed our waterproofs for the long climb through the Forêt d'Eawy to
Les Grandes Ventes(ominous or what!). As we arrived at the little village,
there was blue sky and sun to our right and the most horrendous black
cloud to our left, which unfortunately was the direction in which we
were heading.
After crossing the D915, we turned right onto the D1A and then took
the little lane that went straight through the Forêt du Croc(I later
found out that this had nothing to do with crocodiles but 'fang or tusk'
so I presume it had once been wild boar hunting territory). Approaching
the forest, a large flash of lightning tracked it's way across the sky
followed by the deep throaty rumble of thunder and we braced ourselves
for the worst. With lightning and thunder echoing all around us, the
rain held off long enough for us to reach the forest so we rode on along
the side of the road under the shelter of the arching branches. However,
at the point where we were about to leave the forest, we stopped to
shelter from the rainfall, which had now become torrential. We contemplated
the wisdom of sheltering beneath trees in a thunderstorm while rivulets
of water poured past us down the lane and into the little hamlet of Le
Manoir du Val which is where we were heading. Amazingly, a few moments
later, the clouds parted, blue sky re-appeared and the sun glinted on
the rain-soaked road. We set off once more but waterproofs stayed firmly
on but my glasses had steamed up and I could hardly see where I was going.
At the next junction, we picked up the D98 and cycled down to St.
Germain d'Etables and then on to Varenne on the D149. On the way to St.
Aubin-le-Cauf, I spotted the 'Avenue Verte' so we cycled along this
disused railway line that has been converted into a metalled cycle-track.
I believe the intention is for this wonderful traffic-free cycle route
to be extended so that it will run from Dieppe to Paris but at present,
it only goes as far as Neufchatel-en-Bray. However, we were heading for
Dieppe and after crossing a small road after a distance of about 1km, the
track changed to a gravel path and after a few more metres, a pair of
buffers halted our progress completely. Returning to the last crossing,
we pedalled up the lane that led back to the D1 and the road to Arques-
la-Bataille where Peter left us to return to his French retreat. It had
started drizzling again but with only several more kilometres to go to
Dieppe, we picked up the pace on the flat run into town and soon arrived
at the harbour.
While waiting to board the ferry, the weather once more alternated
between glorious sunshine and quite heavy rainfall so we had a few more
beers. During this time, we watched with curiosity as cyclists started
pouring out of the hotel next door. They weren't just any ordinary
cyclists but very fit-looking ones pushing expensive Omegas, Specialized
and Time bikes all fitted with triathlon bars. Apparently they were from
the Swanley cycling club and they had been over for a triathlon event. Then,
as we boarded the ferry, some of the crew were roping all of these
expensive bikes together and then piled our heavily laden bikes on top
of them - good job the others had all gone up on deck earlier! Barry
pointed out a somewhat special-looking bike called a 'Softride' and the
unusual horizontal-Y shaped carbon frame without a seat tube certainly
required more studying.
Our 'Tribute to Anquetil' ride had been extremely enjoyable. We had
covered 90miles in total and my route planning had proved to be very
successful with no mistakes and no wrong turnings. Everyone had enjoyed
themselves and we had been made very welcome at the accommodation, which
I had tracked down on the Internet. Cycling in France is a completely
different experience and one that I would recommend to everyone - the
roads are superb, the traffic is light and the motorists are very
considerate.
-----------------------------
Dave Galle