L'Ille de Noirmoutier

A morning good-bye to my friends at ICES and I'm off in the rent-a-car to the coast and a jaunt to the Ille de Noumoutier. Four years of visiting and I have not been to one of the more popular tourist destinations in the Vendee. Fog is thick as I approach the coast, and the landscape flattens until the the road flatlines into a misty horizon line.

About noon, I reach the bridge to the island. Some pave, literally paving stones, bread and a small block of cheese make a nice lunch. I'll save the the bottel of Pouilly fume for apres ride when I'm back in L'Etang la Ville.

Pines line the route on both sides and I park in the rest area. There is not a single car there; this is definitely the off-season. Unpack the bike, change into bibs and jersey ,like Superman, in the bushes, unlike Superman. An older couple pulls in and the old gens regards me suspiciously as I emerge from the forest in my lycra getup.

Warming up by climbing a tall bridge isn't recommended, but I do ala Dr. Conconi's advice, and spin slowly, standing up to stretch out the flexors stiff from sitting in a Peugeot 207 the past couple of hours. And I'm on my way up.

The view of the tidal zone between the island and the 'continent' is beautiful. Terns and seagulls, small boats and sand, take turns capturing my attention. My map is limited, a simple tourist map of the Vendee. The main road is a busy, four-lane highway running 16k to the ville of Noumoutier.

I try the sentiers or piste cyclable on the right. It's paved for about 500 meters and then turns to packed limestone and then, after another kilometer or so, to just plain gravel. I'm not into experiencing a gravel ride right now, not on my tubulars and not miles from my car, so I take the double track on the left and soon I'm back in the fast lane on D355. Not where I want to be. There are bicycle signs, but they have a yellow caution square, not a red line, but the next worst thing.

I try another side road and soon I'm at a dead-end on a farmer's road with no choice but the 355. At the next rondpoint, a bicycle lane appears and guides me to the west side of the island where it encourages me to ride my road bike through the sand dunes. I'm on my own; I can't depend on these silly bike routes and choose the Route de Pins which takes me a few k's until I'm again on the four lane highway.

Soon, a sign for the Chateau de Noirmoutier and I find the center of town. The chateau has scaffolding on its walls where workers are removing the concrete plaster over the natural stonework: the 17th century making way for the 12th. The only thing the ride is missing is a grande café. "Nice bike." The waitress either knows bikes or says this to every cyclist that stops. When she brings me my order I learn that a grande café in Noirmoutier means a 'duble' shot of espresso. In Perpignan it meant a large café au lait.

Oyster beds, sailing boats on their keels, the smell of salty air and the sound of the wind, I roll back to the continent, caffeine pumping through my veins, legs refreshed and hungry for more miles. I intend to take the Gois, the alternate road to the mainland that is only traversable during low tide, but an altercation with a guy on a moped makes me miss my turn.

Guys on mopeds are obnoxious, weaving in and out of traffic and moving between lanes of traffic, so when the tiny white moped flipped me off as he passed too close, I returned the favor. My blood really started to roil when he stopped at the next rondpoint on the highway with his eyes in his mirror. OK, let's go buddy.

I'll say this right now to you, Moped Dude, 'Je suis tres desole.' You didn't need to stop and you certainly weren't angry that I flipped you off and when you realized I was an American butcher of the French language, you didn't drive away. You smiled and tried to explain that the road was too busy for bikes and that I should take the bike route instead. You smiled at my attempt at being angry in French, pointed to the bike path and drove away.

That's how I missed the amazing Gois, as seen in the 1999 Tour de France. I had big plans for pictures of the Gois, but instead have some of the bridge from the reverse direction and some interesting flowering plants. And that will just have to do.