Savenay is a small town between Nantes and St Nazaire. It has a population similar to Gillingham, Dorset but not much of interest in the town. I stayed at Le Chéne Vert a Logis Hotel which I had booked direct: Booking.com are a great help to travellers like me but their charges are such that most hotels will do a cheaper deal if you go to them direct. Its a conundrum: I feel a bit of a fraud searching though Booking and then going direct, but a deal’s a deal. The Hotel is in the town centre and I was greeted with a big smile by Landlord Jerome when I pitched up at about 4.30 having been shopping at the Intermarché on the outskirts. I’d missed the Midi so ate in the Hotel restaurant. First a large Blonde beer in the bar and then to the restaurant where was a menu for 28 euros. ,As I hadn’t eaten any yet on this trip I decided to start with Foie Gras which was a 5 euro extra – it was excellent – thank you goose. I followed up with hake and vegetables, beautifully cooked in a rich butter sauce and finished with a sumptuous chocolate mousse. A very good meal that was perfectly balanced.

This morning, breakfast was help yourself to yoghurt, bread and pastries with some cheese and ham available. Orange juice and breakfast tea completed a satisfactory meal and I was packed and away at about 0920. The Wednesday morning market was in full swing with produce stalls and the usual mish mash of clothing. Leisure suit Larry was in fine voice conducting a draw and persuading the ladies who shop to pick the numbers. I didn’t gather what it was all about but there was probably some charity involved.

I left by the same road, down the hill and past the Intermarché and out into the countryside under the main road from Nantes to St Nazaire. Within four miles I came across a Route Barrée sign. This is the third I have encountered and bitter experience tells me when they say it’s closed IT IS. In the UK you can usually get past a road closed sign with a bike but not in France. I consulted the map on the phone and got it wrong first time which meant that I had to retrace my route not once but twice. Eventually I found my way round it and hit a wide road with little traffic so made good progress to Pontchateau and out into the countryside.

The roads here are marked strangely as you can see from the photo: there are cycle lanes both sides but that leaves little room for cars, so I think the protocol is that cars drive in the cycle lane until they come across a cyclist who takes precedence. As you can also see there had been a heavy rain storm which I missed completely. The trees were dripping and there was standing water but I hadn’t donned a jacket.

Shortly I crossed La Vilaine river by the Pont du Cran swing bridge

It’s not a long river and has been heavily canalised but there are few crossing points. Fortunately noone was trying to pass up or down the river when I was there and I followed a truck and a couple of cars at high speed.

I came across this strange building on a crossroads. I think it may have been a windmill, now converted to a dwelling

The road dropped quickly and it was hard to believe that I had climbed so high to have such a fast descent – almost Pyrennean. I emerged into much more open countryside

I carried on through a couple of small towns, enjoying the variety of scenery and the ups and downs of the road. It was about lunchtime and I was on the lookout for somewhere for the Midi when I came belting down a hill and saw what looked like the perfect spot, La Ciboulette, open tous les jours……….. sauf Mercredi! This was where I hit the Oust river and a cycle path that was to take me on for a further 20 miles. It was not tarmac at this point although it became so later but the surface was good and easy to ride

This is the Canal Nantes a Brest, the canalised Oust river. Apparently Napoleon Bonaparte became somewhat pissed off that the perfidious Brits were blockading Brest and not allowing him to supply either the garrison or his Atlantic Fleet who were confined to barracks. So he threw a huge amount of man-power, including prisoners-of-war and convicts at building a canal that could supply Brest from inland. By the time it was completed Napoleon had died on St Helena and the railways took most of the freight between the two cities. Now it is a pleasant route for pleasure boats with locks beautifully decorated with flowers where there is a change of level.

The wind had started blowing hard, I believe the fag end of a hurricane that was sitting out in mid-Atlantic and causing some pretty horrible weather in the UK. However it was largely beside or behind me but I did feel a bit vulnerable when I left the shelter of trees and felt myself heading for the canal.

40 miles into the journey I spotted a bridge across the river to St Martin-sur-Oust and, on the other side the Ruaudaie restaurant and cider house. As it was only 1.30 I parked the bike and went in. There were plenty of people enjoying what was mainly a Galette menu. There was no Menu du Jour so I opted for a small beer and a Savoyarde Galette which was onions, potatoes and lardons with some lettuce leaves and tomatoes. It was very good and for about 10 euros good value and filling.

Onwards in the ever strengthening wind which had blown up to about 40mph. At one point an oak had shed a limb and was being cleared away and sawn into lengths. The now tarmac track was covered in beech mast, acorns and chestnuts so there was a satisfying crunch under my tyres and the occasional pistol crack as I went over an acorn but when cyclists came towards me I had to slow down, not sure where the wind would blow me.

I finally left the river/canal about 6 miles from my destination. It had been an interesting ride. I’m not usually keen on canal towpaths as the surface can be so iffy but this was excellent and it is nice to be away from cars.

However no sooner had a left the canal path then I arrived on another piste cyclable, an old railway line which took me all the way to the centre of Ploermel, my destination

I found Le Thy, another bar-restaurant similar to Le Chene Vert and was booked in and bike safely housed in an outbuilding by 4.30. It was one of the shorter rides of my Grande Balade and, amazingly, I had escaped the rain all day.