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Paris – Rouen – Omaha Beach – Cherbourg (France)– Rosslare – Moydow (Ireland)
790 km cycled
Making more use of my retirement, I (Kurt) decided to combine a long-overdue get-together with friends in Paris with a family visit in Ireland. Well-connected trains brought me to Paris, and then a ride along the River Seine and the beaches made famous by the invasion of 1944 saw me to Cherbourg. An 18-hour ferry followed to Rosslare and another two and a half days on the bike brought me to the heart of Ireland, also known as Darina’s home pad.
What started as a visit to a warm-shower host in São Paulo in 2005 quickly developed into a wonderful friendship and includes now Luís’ wife Carole and their kids Camilo and Thelma, based in Paris.
After a lot of catching up it was time to leave, cycling past landmarks like the Eiffel tower, Champs Elysées, the Arc de Triumph (complete with an underpass for cyclists) and the Arc de la Defence. This was all very straight forward until it was time to go into travel mode and meander with the river.
The Seine bike route makes for pleasant cycling but be informed that if you’re looking for a campground, you have to be on the right side of the river. Bridges and ferries do appear at generous intervals. Actually, my first camp was far removed from any restaurant, but the helpful owner prepared a frozen pizza and offered me a few nice beers to wash it down. Her breakfast was on a notch higher: the soft-boiled egg was served with a hand-knitted egg warmer 
Giverny with Monet’s house and garden was the main “to visit” place between Paris and Rouen, but the queue at the entrance made me change my mind double quick and look for water lilies myself!
Rouen is rightly described as one of the prettiest cities in France. After a delightful day wandering around palaces, churches and a ton of half-timbered houses, I concluded that I couldn’t have built it better myself 😉
Despite its distance from the open sea, Rouen is also the 4th biggest harbour of France. You’ll notice the evidence leaving town downriver, where industrial estates and cranes stretch for kilometres.
More meanders lead past a small castle founded by Templars, the Abbey of Jumièges and the cutesy town of Villequier. Now, the last and only river crossing west of here is the Pont de Normandie. It has a bicycle lane and space for pedestrians too, but in windy weather, the ferry at Jumièges would be a safer option.
The first town after the bridge is Honfleur. It’s very attractive, but the secret is out! Add sunshine and a long weekend and the road out becomes the main attraction. The Au Chant des Oiseaux campground with terraces above the beach just a short walk from Trouville is one I can highly recommend.
Eurovelo 4 follows the coast along the D-Day beaches. Darina and I visited the cemetery above Omaha beach a few years ago, so this time I decided to cycle along the beach directly.
While there, seeing all the leftovers of this gigantic invasion, I do feel deeply grateful to all the poor lads that had their lives cut short just so we don’t have to live under some fascist regime today. Europe is a wonderful place to call home and the fact that in all of my 60 + years no one ever shot at me is in a big part thanks to these fallen soldiers.
Another campground worth noting is the one direct behind Utah beach. Since the nearby restaurant closed the kitchen at 1pm or so, the only option for a feed was the pizza machine. Order on the touch screen, swipe your card and 3 minutes later you have a cardboard box full of sustenance. I guess, that was what was meant by the expression “living like God in France” 😉
By the way, there are a lot more campgrounds a short ride north.
Cherbourg was my last stop before the ferry, and I spent a good part of my time in the Cite de la Mer Museum. It has a funny mix of exhibits, but what impressed me most was the audio guided tour through a decommissioned nuclear submarine and the aquarium. The exhibition dealing with the Titanic did little to blow my skirt up. Still, worth the ticket in my opinion.
The ferry to Rosslare is a convenient way to avoid all the hassle of border crossings in and out of Brexitonia and a good night’s sleep on a sofa is to be had if you bring your sleeping bag along.
The main draw of Irelands sunny southeast i.e. the sunshine, extended all the way to the midlands this time. Crossing the Blackstairs Mountains (hills really) was the main challenge, peaking at 200 masl!
I had my first semi-wild camping experience en route by talking to the locals in a rural pub. They pointed me in the direction of a big grassy patch that was perfect for the job. Ireland used to be a paradise back in the day when B&Bs were plentiful and cheap. A lot have since gone out of business and the rest charges an arm and a leg for not much in return. There is no room service because they can’t find the staff, and breakfast is another 12€. Even the locals are complaining because they can see that with these prices a lot of tourists won’t be coming back in a hurry.
As I rolled into Moydow, I couldn’t help but compare and contrast to Paris. The Arc de Triumph in Moydow is the one and only housing development and the houses are built in a horizontal ark. Actually, the development is endearingly known as “The Houses”! The “Champs Elysées” brings you past the pub, the church and the community centre (HQ of the Pillar Box Drama Group) and before you know it you’re out again. To mirror the River Seine, there is a little sluice, where Daddy-in-laws have been known to liberate tropical fish from the confines of their aquarium!
So, if you’re looking for peace and quiet, you could easily find a place to pitch the tent there – just talk to the friendly locals.
In conclusion, I was very happy with my route, the nice mix of towns and the variety of landscapes. I was also able to test out our new tent and practise my very limited and rusty French. Unlike on trips with Darina, the culinary highlights were rare, mainly because I was too lazy to cook for myself and had a pizza or burger a bit too often. The biggest disappointment was that the SD-card in the Insta camera gave up the ghost, so I don’t have the chance to play with video foootage this time.
It was also time to say goodbye to the Irish side of the family for a year, because we have another big trip up our sleeves. Stay tuned!
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