The Manche to the Med - Day 12: Cahors to Montauban

By now mornings are pretty much an autopilot affair - the bedroom scene is simultaneously choreographed and automated, as we pack our panniers in robotic fashion. We could probably do this with our eyes shut. Breakfast: No surprises - but it does the job. We contemplate wandering into town to buy provisions - but it's Tuesday and,... well,.. you know.

We get going and cycle up from the river and over one of the bridges. Traffic is busy, people getting to work and what-not, but compared to home it's relatively quiet and easy. We are tempted to stay on main roads and take the quickest but prosaic route, instead we opt for the tranquil back roads, a mere smear of concrete and tar but this will be the scenic route - through farms and copse, past brooks, blackberry bushes and abandoned barns. There are different airborne scents throughout the day: cut grass, jasmine, manure, bonfire - thankfully no five year old sausage.

As the day grows and we head further towards our destination of Montauban, so the weather improves. It gets warmer, hotter, sunnier. Our route sees us following the river for some miles, then upwards and through some small villages before dropping again to river level. We've passed many fields of sunflowers on this trip, all of them gone to seed and awaiting harvest to produce oil. Today we spotted a field in flower, probably a second crop. We couldn't resist halting for a photo.

Montauban sits on the bank of the River Tarn at its confluence with the Tescou. The town was founded in 1144 with buildings constructed from the attractive pink stone typical of this area. The town centre is built on a square grid system with many arches, arcades and walkways - some opening up to large squares surrounded with cafes and bars. There appears to be a lively shopping area with many individual and stylish shops and boutiques. The Mona Lisa was briefly hidden in a cellar in Montauban during World War II. We cycle through pedestrianised streets to find our hotel sitting conveniently next to the main centre.

It's hot and sunny - I enter the hotel to try to check in - we're somewhat earlier than expected and I wonder if our room will be ready - its clear that some conversational French must take place. I fire up my French App and tap away. The converstion went something like this...

"We are guest do you await?" I say
"How many" she says
"Sixty"
She looks in the registry - I see Gary's name and point furiously "Voila, Voila"
"Ah - Mr Gary"
"No - I am"  I reply  "It means nothing to us"
She says something else - this time with gestures.
We stare at each other for a bit.
"What time" I say "Before midnight or in the garden"
For some reason she seems confused. But finally we are able to establish that we have a room booked.
"Must we store the safely bicycles" I ask
She gestures to a room next door - we can put the bikes in there.
And that's it - easy - we're in and our room is ready, although there are still staff working on other rooms on the floor. The hotel is good and the room comfortable and well decorated, the bathroom has a decent shower and a trendy porcelain basin.

Later we walk across the road into town. A maze of cobbled, shop lined streets, plenty of bars and restaurants and some trendy apartments. We stop at a small bar for a small beer sitting in the sun - then walk on to another, set in a large square, with large beers. There are trendy, arty shops all around. Later we find a restaurant for supper, we sit inside, it's a multi-level interior with lots of decorative lamps and high ceilings. Gary goes for a pizza and I have a salad - both are okay - we sample a bottle of the local Fronton wine - good. We opt for a pudding, Gary has a towering multi-storey ice-cream/cream thingy and I have profiteroles - the desserts are huge, I can't finish mine.

It's not far to the hotel - we're in bed by 10.00 but it's hot. I set the air-con to cryogenic but the noise is too much to bear. It's going to be a sticky night.