“How much of life is practicing wild miscalculations and lucking out of the consequences?” – Old Sean
Through the French Countryside
After spending a considerable amount of time in Paris, I prepared to head south the the city of Tours. The little city was an important access point for the Loire Valley, so I was eager to see what it offered.
Despite being fairly tired from a event-crammed tour of Paris, I managed to wake up in time to catch a ride visiting Tours.
I rode through the French countryside on a bus, eyes tracking the passing meadows of green or dried gold. As we moved further south, hills began to roll on the land, and trees of dark, sun-drinking green began to rise.
Entering Tours
Tours proved to be a lovely destination. It’s a pretty city, far too large now to be accurately called a town.
There are lots of little nooks rendered coy and lush by nets of ivy on buildings and sharp, little fountains scattered in the downtown area. Many of the somewhat small plazas are packed with crowds and a fair spread of food. The Loire River is a wide and sandy display, low islands often supporting tiny, half-drowned saplings. The Cathedral of the city is oddly bright and eye-catching. Artistically patterned flower gardens are vibrant against manicured grass for an artificially natural kind of look.
If I had a quarter of the green thumb Tours‘ groundskeepers had, I could shoulder-mount living apple trees on my person as a traveling food source.
A Rotation Past Town
To be perfectly honest, I did fairly little while visiting Tours. I drank a glass of rosé on the riverside, checked out a couple of local parks, restocked my shampoo supply and visited some of the town’s central features. Mostly, I just enjoyed the riverside and narrow, scenic streets of the city.
Before it started getting too dark, I started walking to my hotel. Which sadly, I badly misjudged.
France is expensive. Sometimes, when the heat hits the pavement and the rolling clock outruns me, I make an impulse purchases for the cheapest accommodations available.
Which, in this case, was a hotel in the relatively close town of Chamray-les-Tours. Relatively being the operative word.
The walk to the nearby town became a considerable commitment. I spent nearly two and a half hours hiking to this southern hotel, passing some squat, shipping-container-shaped storage buildings on the way.
It’s times like these I’m grateful I’m traveling light. The daily weight I carry is as close to as minimal as I can make it. Everything fits neatly into a forty-liter backpack with spare room for an umbrella and extra water-bottles on the outside.
Onward to (almost) Spain
Once I was safely lodged in my hotel, I cautiously reviewed the next leg of my trip.
From Tours, I intended to head straight into Spain (Pamplona) but a lack of tickets ensured I would be rerouted to Toulouse for the following night. Part of that detour would also involve a brief stop in Loches.
Hence, tomorrow I will ride for Toulrouse.
Until then,
Best regards,
Old Sean
Written July 29th, 2018
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I picked up my yoga mat three years ago during a trip to Mexico. The Jade Travel Yoga Mat is light enough to roll up and attach it to the outside of my bag. It now doubles as my workout mat and a sleeping mat when I need to rest somewhere odd.
