The invitation to join Torbay CTC on their 2001 Tour of Brittany arrived at the back end of 2000. Most rides at about that time had been ‘wet’ to say the least but with a Dinner Dart to Weston Super Mare and the ride back again I could convince myself I would be fit enough for a 220km PROFS (Permanent Ride on Foreign Soil) in February. With the promise of a bit of Brittanique sun I sent my cheque to organiser Geoff Sharpe only a couple of days after his 8 January closing date (sorry Geoff, I know what it’s like organising things so I should have made my mind up sooner).

I didn’t manage many miles in December and the few I did in January were either extremely cold, slippery or wet (mostly all 3) so the most I’d managed in one day was the 107 frosty km of the Watership Down. On another day I checked 90km of the back end of the Dorset Coast (hope it’s warmer in April!) and managed a massive 100km over three days on my annual Winter Weekend with West Kent CTC in wet, muddy Wales. Many of these miles may have been hard and hilly but I couldn’t help thinking the 150km or even the 100km ride would be a better option on the day. A couple of days prior to sailing I received an e-mail from Graham Brodie telling me that he was now joining the trip and how unfit he felt. That’s good I thought, someone to struggle round the 220km with.

I’ve only sailed from Plymouth once and on that occasion John Thacker from Exeter drove me there so I didn’t really know where I was going. Geoff had offered to meet me somewhere on the A38 to guide me in but I thought why not go one better than that – collecting the organiser sounded like the best insurance policy, he’ll have the tickets too! Unlike the 2345 Cherbourg trip, Plymouth sailings leave at 2200 hours so it was a real mad dash from Bournemouth on a Friday after work – particularly with more than your usual number of mimsas on the A35, it being half term.

We made it and after locating cabins it was in the bar to meet with the 36 other participants on this Gallic trip. I know quite a few of the Devon DA from Audax rides – most of my two York Arrow teams were here - Mike Hunting, Graham Brodie and Mark Williams going for the 220km but Ian Weatherill took the coffee and cognac option along with many other sensible souls like the organiser and Linda Johnston, organiser of this PROFS, who clearly knew what we were letting ourselves in for. Flat my foot! I didn’t stay long in the bar as the strain of a day’s work and the long drive down, not to mention the thought of 220km the next day, soon took its toll and I was off to my hot and noisy cabin. Cabins are down with the engines on this old Roscoff-bound ferry. At least my cabin mates were quiet when they came in.

Before long the bell was being rung and we were in the restaurant for breakfast. Alighting the ferry proved a longwinded affair – a number of motorists were presumably still queuing for their breakfast and not in much of a hurry to move their vehicles. As soon as there was enough space for a cycle we were on dry land and 10 of us hurriedly set off on our long day’s ride – we had to be back here in not much over 12 hours to reboard! I made many comparisons between the Plymouth-Roscoff and the Poole-Cherbourg sailing and most were in favour of the latter - six miles from home, newer vessel with cabins up high, a later sailing, more time in France. Two things the Roscoff journey had going for it were the price (although I think Geoff used his excellent negotiating skills to get such a good rate) and the fact that you went back on the return sailing so could leave all your luggage on board.

It was an excellent start to the ride gentle climbing and descending and scenic along the estuary to Morlaix. Felt very Cornish reminding me of the area around Gweek. The weather was quite favourable. We’d had a couple of warm sunny days in Bournemouth and the weekend promised more of the same. There wasn’t much sun about but the air temperature was at least closer to 10ºC than freezing for a change so I didn’t don a Goretex for the first time in weeks. We had to wait for Graham in Morlaix. On a long descent he received a telephone call from his wife Jackie advising him that the electrics had gone in the house! I think he managed to point her in the right direction.

After Morlaix it was time to get to work. From virtually sea level it was a long long climb to about 300m up. A gentle climb though and this was to be the picture for the next 150km. Bit of a roller coaster ride across Brittany – just like on Paris Brest Paris (PBP). There was nothing steep and I don’t think we dropped below 100m again before Morlaix on the return but the climbs were long and the descents were excellent value for money. We found a café to stamp our cards in Belle Isle en Terre but the barman didn’t seem too keen sell us a drink. He just disappeared and when I went to the shop next door I found him minding that – no drinks there though so I went back to a Patisserie we’d passed and found a can of coke – complete with Pain au Chocolat.

We were managing to keep up a steady pace so there was time for another Patisserie stop at Bourbriac (except I went to the Boucherie for something savoury). I find Brittany not the most spectacular part of the world, no rugged mountains or pretty gorges but its towns are very stylish and its open rolling countryside, quiet lanes and sleepy villages make it quite atmospheric and a joy to cycle in. A Saturday in February seems especially quiet compared with PBP in August when the streets are full of people wishing you bon courage and bon retour. We didn’t have the time to lounge around in cafés and bars but we nonetheless could enjoy a different way of life for a day.

On our way to Quintin at 110km the wind came up in our faces quite strongly and coming from the East it got a bit cool too. A very chivalrous Mike Parker kindly loaned me his rear wheel, which helped me on this section that I would otherwise have struggled along. Soon we were raiding the Epicerie in Quintin and sitting kerbside in the square to replenish burned calories. Being at the farthest point the conversation turned to ferry times and how late could we be before we were prevented from boarding. Then we starting talking next ferry and some one pointed out that the next one was in a week’s time – there was only a WEEKLY sailing to Roscoff at this time of year!! What a time to tell me – I had assumed it was tomorrow – I reckon I would have joined the Coffee and Cognac ride if I’d known! Quick period of panic, pack up and start heading north west again. At least the wind was more favourable now but thoughts did turn to Cherbourg and the fact that I could cycle there before the next ferry from Roscoff.

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