We decided today to head down the road to Alencon, a city apparently known for its intricate lace making. The short eighteen mile ride was much less hilly that yesterday’s, and we breezed along merrily with a light tail wind. Having been told to avoid highways the GPS brought us right through the center of the city without once feeling any traffic stress. It was almost like a guided tour of the city as we wound through the tower blocked outskirts, small backstreets, cobbled shop lined pedestrian areas and past cafés, a huge old musical merry-go-round and the immense cathedral.
Our site was just the other side of the city center, next to the river Sarthe, but having found it we realised the reception office wasn’t open until 3pm, a two hour wait. So I left Kez sitting with the bikes on a picnic table shaded by a thatched parasol and walked off in search of a baguette for lunch. When I eventually returned, I found her in deep discussion with an English motorhoming fellow who was heading North with his wife after touring in the South of France and Spain. He was full of helpful advice on finding camp sites and marked some good ones on our map. He then returned with a French camp site guidebook to lend us for the night. Once we’d finally checked in for two nights, and set up, we walked into the city center, found the tourist office for a town plan and advice on the whereabouts of wi-fi internet. It turns out the city offers free wi-fi in a tree lined square outside one of its large municipal buildings, so that’s handy.
We bought ingredients for a camp stove coq au vin which Kez cooked beautifully, and drank a little too much cheap plonk. A lay in and a proper explore of the city tomorrow.