Flow Vélo 11 : The Missing Piece
La Flow Vélo from Geay to Rochefort
Following the first day of our Rochefort weekend in May, our aim for the second day was to cycle the only part of the Flow Vélo we hadn’t yet seen: from the hilltop village of Geay, last visited a year ago, to the fascinating town of Rochefort, where we were currently camping.
You’ve seen the problem, haven’t you?
Being (slightly) psycho-rigid, I wanted to do the ride in the same direction as our other Flow Vélo stages. But our starting point was Rochefort. Should we load our bikes into the car, drive there and then cycle back?
‘No need,’ said my resourceful husband, studying our Flow Vélo guidebook. ‘Looks like there’s an alternative route.’
I checked and saw we could cycle to the mid-point village of Cabariot via the Vélodyssée. Having been disappointed by the choice of roads on the Scandibérique route (EuroVelo 3) last year, I was hesitant about using the Vélodyssée (EuroVelo 1).
But it would mean we could try out Rochefort’s transporter bridge – just open after 4 years of renovation. And circuits are much better than return journeys.
We packed the car, left it outside the fabulous ‘Le Rayonnement’ campsite and set off under a blue sky. There was a strong westerly wind and my husband muttered about the inaccuracies of weather forecasts (see my blog post from the previous day to understand why). This morning I’d stood in front of the campsite’s weatherboard, blocking his view of it so that he couldn’t see the warnings of storms and 50kmh gusts of wind for late afternoon.
We’d just have to cycle faster than our usual 10km/hour. And forgo our ice-cream stop. And maybe our siesta.
1) The Vélodyssée Part (Rochefort to Geay)
We joined Rochefort’s ‘ringroad’ cycle path, signposted Le Chemin de Charente, at the Corderie Royale ropery.
I love this cycleway, which takes you around Rochefort via the river and through countryside. There are some delicate passages, however.
Within a few kilometres, we arrived at the transporter bridge. It only costs 2€10 to cross, and we waited 10 minutes for the hanging cage to arrive from the Echillais side of the River Charente.
The crossing was surprisingly smooth – apart from the heavy jolt when the cage hit the platform on the south bank. We followed the other cyclists out of the cage and looked around.
Unsure of where to go – the link to the Vélodyssée isn’t signposted – we turned left and passed in front of the transporter bridge visitor centre.
My husband suggested stopping to look, as we’d heard it was really good (and free). But I was thinking about the forecast gale.
‘Let’s see it next time,’ I said. We both wanted to return to Rochefort to eat at the yummy Route des Epices restaurant again to do more cycling. We fancy the cycling circuit to Port-des-Barques, from where you can cross to Île Madame at low tide.
We got a little lost on the roads around Echillais. My husband wanted us to follow the signs to the Vélodyssée, even though they were marked ‘Marennes’, which is the opposite direction to Cabariot.
His compass agreed with him, so what could I say?
Perhaps we did arrive on the Vélodyssée a little further south than planned (near St Agnant)… But what a pleasant surprise it was!
This part of the cycleway follows a former railway track, is lined by trees and holds a series of sculpted delights. If you follow this route – and I really do recommend it – keep your eyes open for these fellows.
When the Vélodyssée joined the River Charente, we turned right onto the Flow Vélo. I mentally closed my eyes as I cycled, so that I’d discover it properly on the return journey.
I simply let the rising wind push me onwards, listening to the cuckoos and admiring the dog roses, elderflower, marguerites and irises until we reached Geay.
It was 3pm and we’d cycled 32km. The storm would soon be upon us.
2) The Flow Vélo Part (Geay to Rochefort)
So, let’s psycho-rigidly imagine we started our day’s cycle ride in Geay: at the romanesque church, to be precise.
It’s not actually on the route but it’s worth cycling the hundred metres up the hill to see both the building and the views from the church gardens.
From Geay, a lane took us down to the towpath along the Canal du Moussard.
This waterway runs parallel to the River Charente between St Savinien and Rochefort, irrigating the marshland around the town with fresh water.
Between Geay and Cabariot, the Flow Vélo mostly follows this canal, which can be arduous when it’s windy. Which it was. Luckily, the route regularly diverts up into villages such as L’Epine and Romegoux – though this means cycling up hills.
Time was passing and I was keen not to be cycling when the storm arrived. As we approached the canal bridge to take us up into L’Epine, I had an idea.
‘Let’s take a short cut,’ I said.
My husband looked dubiously at the long grass on the towpath.
A voice in my head reminded me, in Bilbo Baggins style, that short cuts make long delays.
But if we could pass, we’d save time here and also at the Romegoux diversion further along, which involves a long uphill and then a busy-ish road.
Don’t make the same error as us. Short cuts do indeed make long delays.
Although we delighted in the wildness along that stretch of towpath – in the sound of frogsong and bird calls that we’d not heard along the rest of the canal – the brambles under our tyres worried us.
Just before we reached the end, our way was blocked by a tributary stream and a fence. We had to turn back.
Not only did I spend the next few days checking my body for ticks, there was also a more direct consequence.
Luckily, Bicycle Repair Man was with me.
Up to now, the Geay to Cabariot section had been my least favourite part of the Flow Vélo (nothing to do with the puncture). But the view from the Pont de Cèpe bridge, followed by the lakeside park at Cabariot were two highlights. We allowed ourselves an ice-cream beside the lake (which you can’t swim in), and admired the lockers for loaded bikes. What a great idea.
Then came the arrival in Tonnay-Charente. We know this place as car drivers: it’s the traffic-jammed village you have to cross to get to Rochefort if you don’t take the motorway. So our expectations were low.
Once again, we were proved wrong. One advantage of cycling locally is that you discover different facets of the places you think you know. The entry into Tonnay, along a little lane, takes you past the beautiful (private) Château des Capucins and then under a huge suspension bridge.
Despite having driven many times through Tonnay-Charente, I had no idea it harboured such treasure. We cycled up onto the foot-passage-only bridge, from where we had beautiful views of Tonnay’s quayside face.
From Tonnay, the Flow Vélo followed a cycle path along the main road into Rochefort, which wasn’t much fun. Then, just past Lidl, we joined the Chemin de Charente. I must admit that I much prefer the south bank approach to Rochefort, via the transporter bridge.
Upon our arrival in Rochefort at 6pm, with 65km on the clock, there was still no sign of the storm. In fact it was sunny and the wind had dropped.
When I noticed an ice-cream seller beside the dry dock, I could think of no reason for not stopping. Especially when I saw which ice-cream maker it was.
We’d already eaten one ice-cream today. But we had something to celebrate.
And so, instead of drinking champagne, we celebrated reaching the end of our Flow Vélo adventures with an ice-cream from Ernest Le Glacier – the La Rochelle ice-cream maker who, in my humble opinion, is the best in the world.
What better way to finish our 290km+ expedition than with an ice-cream and a view over the River Charente?
