Travelogue#
Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep particularly well last night. I suspect the incoming tide woke me up with the sound of the waves. But there are certainly worse things.
The first few kilometers were a constant up-and-down before the route eventually entered the marshlands. Thanks to the light conditions, the landscape almost felt surreal at times. I absolutely loved it.
I wanted to take the Passage du Gois, a road that is only passable at low tide. The causeway is regularly flooded by the tides. Since the lowest water level today was at 11:30 a.m., I needed to cover the first 50 kilometers by then in order to cross it.
To cut a long story short: it was a ridiculously bad idea. Along the 4.5-kilometer crossing, there was one car after another, and traffic moved only slightly faster than walking pace. But the worst part was that the moisture on the road created a constant spray of salt water as vehicles passed through it. My entire bike, including all the bags, ended up covered in salty grime. In hindsight, I really should have seen that coming.
The remaining 50 kilometers to the campsite weren’t particularly enjoyable either. The towns here seem to be geared entirely toward summer tourism and felt almost deserted. Most of the cycle path ran alongside roads, usually on gravel or sand.
I even took a six-kilometer detour to a car wash to clean the bike a bit—at least superficially. Of course, just a few kilometers later it was covered in dust again. I honestly don’t know why it’s so extreme with this bike. Maybe it’s the bags? Every time I touch the bike, I end up with dirty clothes and dusty hands.
I ended up at what is actually a decent campsite, but one that is clearly designed for motorhomes. I’m the only bikepacker here. My pitch consists of nothing more than a patch of sand without any seating. Pretty awful, to be honest. It makes me wonder how this place earned its Accueil Vélo certification.
On the bright side, a 400-meter walk through the dunes leads to a beautiful beach. At least there’s that.
Pictures#
