Distance: 109.5 km

Time on Road: 12 hours

I am writing the morning after our first day of riding because last night we were pretty much physically and mentally unable! Right, let’s start from the beginning.

We left Paris proper around 11am yesterday morning. Although chaotic, at times Paris traffic feels like a choreographed dance. Each dancer equally nimble and aggressive. Weaving around cars and exhibiting some newly jerky moves we had adopted from our few days of cycling in the city, we made our way south. Heading south west we popped in at Versailles, where we had an overpriced lunch, marvelled at the gardens and did a dreamy cruise around the palatial cross shaped canal. Upon leaving this eden, the day took some interesting turns, as did we. We passed through countless small towns that were soaked in lilac and built entirely of stone. We heard people manually tolling the bells at small churches in each town and rode past fields and fields and fields of vibrant yellow flowers.

Somewhere between Versailles and our final destination we stopped in a small town centre and fuelled up on fruit, croissants and Kronenbergs, which in hindsight was absolutely necessary because shortly after this the GPS that we use decided it had a different plan for us. As a rule of thumb we tend to avoid major freeways or areas with little to no shoulder. Considering this, the GPS took some liberties and formulated  a route that ultimately felt like the universe was hazing us into some higher echelon of cycling mastery. Things got rocky. At times this new route we were on resembled a mix of mountain biking (but laden with 50 lbs of luggage) and cycle cross. The “roads” were definitely not highways, but were taking us almost directly through these vast fields we had biked by only a few hours before. However, at this point the rain fall was considerable and the unpaved and grassy lanes began to turn into a loose mud. The good old Hemingway quote became more and more comical as the day went on.

Near the end, around 10:30 pm, and sufficiently soaked to the bone, we found ourselves pulling our bikes through 2ft tall grasses for about 10km. Save for a mini meltdown on my end, that I was luckily able to channel into what I would call hysterical laughter, we stuck it out and finally emerged onto a small paved street. And here is where I very much by accident, killed a frog.

 We pulled into our lodging for the night, our bikes thickly caked in a clay like mud, around 11:15—almost 12 hours after we left the bustling streets of Paris. Yesterday was one of the most beautiful, trying, difficult, exhausting, invigorating days of cycling I think both of us have ever experienced and despite some tears and frustration I am oddly happy that we kicked this ride off with a day for the books.

Here’s a video of leaving Paris which we hope conveys the madness that biking there is.