Packed up quite quickly after breakfast, and we were on the road by half ten, quite early for us. The ferry turned out to be a free service, and we chatted to a German couple who were off for a morning cycle down the river. Once across, we looked up at the huge white cliffs remeniscent of Dover, and up at the road which climbed then North, and also noticed an unpaved road going South, sticking close to the water and under the cliffs, nice and flat. So we chose the South road, hoping it wouldn’t get too rough. It was a lovely ride through sunny trees and bushes, the craggy cliffs looming up on our right, and the wide expanse of the river to our left moving powerfully but silently North with the odd barge sliding along carrying some sort of industrial load.
The track wasn’t too bumpy, and after a mile or two we reached a turning that offered our only chance to regain the road before the track came to an end. As we’d feared, it was steep. The cliffs had receded and to our right now was just a very very steep and very very high bank covered in trees, with our only way out disappearing straight up into them. We didn’t even bother trying to cycle it, we shoved our bikes laden with all our equipment up the lane having to stop every fifty yards for breath. Every corner appeared to be cresting the hill, yet when we got there another long, rediculously steep ascent loomed up in front of us. Sweating buckets, with aching calves after about an hour and a half of shoving, puffing, swearing, sweating and gasping we finally reached the top, and found the road we needed to be on. The rest of the journey today was fantastic. Quiet rural lanes leading us through the beautiful Normandy countryside, small towns and sleepy villages. We stopped to get lunch at an all day supermarché which just about managed to stay open through the sleepy lunch period, and we sat in the grass by a pond with some really vocal frogs. Kez had bought me a can of Guinness which was a real treat with my camambert and salad baguette. I’m really missing my English ale, but the Guinness made a welcome change to cheap wine and yellow frothy lager in flouncy stemmed glasses.
Rolling hills and a particularly exciting hairpin descent through La foret de Montfort, brought us to our intended campsite at Pont-Authou, named for its bridge over the river Risle. We were very pleased when reception asked for the smallest fee yet, €6.50! We pitched next to a flowery meadow of cud chewing cattle, opened a carton of cheap red and cooked up a really tasty paella/risotto rice thing with lardons, chorizo, onions, garlic and tomato.