Montjean-sur-Loire, FR to Nantes, FR

43.0 mi / 11.3 mph / 350 ft. climbing
Home: Sandrine’s AirBNB

We would be riding through rain today, something we almost always avoid. But knowing that we were taking a few days off in Nantes made it easier to accept; life is easier if we don’t have to get ourselves and all of our gear dried out to ride again the next day. It meant that we really didn’t want to arrive to Nantes before our 4pm check-in time, because riding while wet is significantly less-dreadful than killing time while wet. So we got rolling a little before 10am, encouraged by the ability to get our bikes out of our host’s garage and loaded up before any precipitation actually started.

Riding out on the EuroVelo 6 route on the south bank of the Loire. For some reason the busier roads tend to run more-inland, while the ones running right along the banks are almost empty. Works for us, they’re flatter too!
Here’s an example of the EuroVelo route finding a direct, car-free path through this town by sneaking between the river-edge buildings and the river itself (and soon to sneak under the bridge ahead).

The rain began about 10:30am, never very heavy, but certainly enough to get us wet (I was wearing my rain jacket the whole morning, along with my regular shorts; Rett didn’t put on her jacket until after lunch). For probably 10 miles I was scanning for shelters where we could stop for that lunch, early on just to get a feel for what kind of options would be available, but with increasing intention as absolutely zero options presented themselves. Not a single bus shelter, abandoned shed, public park with a gazebo…nothing!

There was a brief dry spell around noon, so I made us at least stop to pop some M&Ms because I knew there was a hill coming up (something we’ve become quite unused to!) And quite a hill it was, feeling much taller than its ~200 ft. height, particularly during the winding descent. Near the bottom, Rett’s right knee popped into a weird misalignment in the middle of a pedal stroke, something she expected to quickly right itself, but when we stopped, she found she could barely walk. Shit.

Thus it was tremendous luck that we pulled off the road right at the point where a bridge crossed the Loire, and there was easy access to the wide, flat ground that was sheltered beneath its broad concrete span. Essentially like blowing a tire right in front of the only tire shop in the middle of a desert. That meant was could set up our chairs, eat some lunch, and hopefully give Rett’s knee a chance to relax and at least somewhat right itself.

An unusual bit of the Loire, where a cliff encroaching on its bank leaves no dry space at the bottom, and instead forces the road up and over the top.
Rett slaloms her way down the surprisingly-long hill (its winding route helped to keep the grades manageable).

One of our favorite things in France has been what we call “Adult Lunchables”. Made by a company called Sodebo (and less-expertly by some knockoff brands), they have at least a dozen varieties, all containing some sort of cold salad as the main, usually with pasta, lettuce/vegetables, a meat, frequently boiled eggs, and a test-tube of dressing that you apply to it. Another bag contains two breadsticks, and a compostable fork, except that it’s not tongue-dessicating like most compostable/bamboo utensils, and only after our 7th time did I read the packaging closely enough to learn that’s because it’s actually edible! (a bit like a fortune cookie, especially when softened a bit by the dressing). And finally, a chocolate-chip cookie. They’re in nearly every grocery store, seem significantly less-terrible for you than most pre-packaged stuff at a grocery store, and for roughly USD$4, feel like an excellent deal. It’s a perfect bike-touring amenity that I already know we’re really going to miss when we leave their distribution zone, because it allows us to eat healthily and efficiently without the work of assembling our own plates from a pile of ingredients we then need to store.

My “Adult Lunchable”/Sodebo Salad. Edible fork is in the salad, and cookie, breadsticks, and tube of dressing line the back.
Departing our bridge shelter, approximately the only source of shelter in a 40-mile stretch.

Stretching and rest got Rett’s knee relaxed enough by the end of lunch that she could at least walk without limping, and hopping back aboard the bike showed that it thankfully worked for that task too. Not 100%, but well enough that we didn’t need to start looking for some other form of transportation to get us to Nantes.

We could have avoided that hill (and maybe Rett’s injury?) if we’d stayed on the EuroVelo route, which had bounced to the north bank for ~5 miles, before returning to join us over the bridge we’d sheltered under. But that had seemed like an unnecessary excursion. Now re-joined, it was clear that EuroVelo was really going to work for us, as if to convince us to never part ways again. It took us on some really narrow streets twisting through a tiny settlement, at times feeling like we were on peoples’ driveways to cut us through to the next actual road, a clear result of negotiating with property owners to maximize the car-free/lite sections of the route. And then a point where the StreetView from a few years ago showed a rough tractor-path through the dirt on the edge of a farm field, but now that path has been upgraded to a smooth, flat, gravel bike path. So evidence that upgrades are continually being made to the EuroVelo routes (presumably before the upgrade, the official route stayed on the paved road above the field).

EuroVelo 6 takes us right past the windows of this charming house. Thanks for letting the route go through here, and for letting us see your house!
The former tractor-path is now a high-quality bike path. We rode on several gravel sections today, and even when wet, they were in near-perfect condition, and we were able to move just as fast on them as on pavement.
Still, it’s possible for EuroVelo to go “too far”. Here we’d left the now-official route below at a convenient intersection, because we soon need to cross a bridge over the Loire. And while EV/local council spent a bunch of money to build a structure that zig-zags up from the gravel path to the bridge deck, it was far easier to just let the road take us straight there, especially since zero cars passed on this stretch anyway.
Castle or silo? In France, who can say?
This new-looking bridge over the Loire had construction blocking the bike paths cantilevered on the outsides, but as you can see, traffic was no problem in the normal lanes.

Now on the north bank, our final 7 miles into the heart of the 6th-largest city in France were made surprisingly-easy and peaceful by what felt like a city/suburban bike trail. The rain had even stopped, though another approaching cell on the radar had us racing a bit (getting re-wet just before arriving at our AirBNB, after sun/air-drying for a while would be annoying). And then half of downtown Nantes being under construction multiplied the usual city-navigation frustrations, as bike path re-routes that are obvious and second-nature to locals can be completely inscrutable to us.

The sun is out, but Rett was cool enough to not need to immediately strip her rain jacket.
This strange partially-organized garbage dump (junkyard?) lined both sides of the trail for a stretch. It felt a bit like a place of the economically-unfortunate to congregate the outskirts of a big city.
West of the center, Nantes rises quickly above the Loire.
Large-scale art is a big part of Rett’s attraction to Nantes, and we could check off this “Bird’s Nest” on the way in.

We failed in our quest to beat the final wave of rain, but only by about a minute, so we were able to dash inside our AirBNB with our bags slightly less wet and filth-covered than they would have been if we hadn’t been watching the radar. We also used “beating the rain” as an excuse to check in a little bit early (it was a self-check-in, so it was only ourselves to whom we were telling this excuse, but that’s important too!)

For our first evening, we went to Little Atlantique Brewery (yes, in English), which was conveniently just steps from our AirBNB (though unfortunately for Rett’s still-aching knee, there were literal steps we had to walk down to get to the dock-level). The beer was good, as was my burger and Rett’s fish & chips (which she never got in England!) Observing the relatively-large crowd of obvious locals indoors and out at the massive brewery space on a Monday evening, I was struck that this was likely the first time in three weeks in France when we weren’t surrounded by fellow tourists!

More immediate and unsought proof of Nantes’s artistic/steam-punk reputation.
LIttle Atlantique Brewery, very much in the US industrial-brewpub style (though many US breweries would be quite envious of their massive space!)
The view onto the Loire from the brewery.

Posted

in

,

by

Last Updated:

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *