And the cycling begins

Aug 19 A short summary of a strenuous travel day: Paris-Blois, or Cabs, Trains and Automobiles
Good: cabs arrive promptly at hotel, loaded efficiently, take off for train station
Bad: Kenamores get dropped by sartorially elegant (suit/tie) cab driver in bowels of station opposite where B/Gs are dropped, in FRONT
Worse: Jane becomes hopelessly lost in search for B/Gs; Bruce and B wait biting lips by mounds of luggage until R's roaming encounters Jane going figuratively up the down staircase, leads her out of bowels of station and all are joyously reunited.
So-so: brief encounter with ticket machine finally results in stamped ticket. Off to train:
Good: Train upholds French reputation for superb service by leaving exactly on time.
Better: We have not just entire compartment, but entire railcar, to ourselves! Train arrives in Orleans - exactly on time. See prior comment.
Mediocre: Stoop to Subway sandwiches in view of time and ease of comsumption.
Good: Avis station in RR station, helpful attendant pulls up chariot, we load up and drive to main Avis terminal for processing. Chariot is largest van Avis rents: think of a sawed off.Sprinter.
Also good: We have half a parking lot to unload crates and assemble bikes. Takes 2+ hours. Weather most cooperative.
Excellent: Bikes fit in van, front wheels removed on K's bikes; front/rear tires plus front 1/3 removed from The Beast, luggage stowed in 3rd seat. Off we go.
Nice: drive through small towns to Blois.
Bad bad: Jane yells Stop Stop Stop at driver Robb trying to find hotel on roadside signs in Blois. This is in the middle of a medieval city with narrow lanes, turn lanes, whizzing traffic. R gets mad. Go around again - ah - there it is: Anne de Bretagne. Pull up to old-style three story hotel with plenty of parking. Relief. Leave bikes in car. Check in. Walk to dinner.
Good: simple dinner at cafe,
Very good: Cafe upholds French reputation for good wine by providing a delicious demi-pichet of merlot for 6 euros. We suck it down.
Bad and good: We are exhausted. It is late. We collapse in bed.
FIN

Aug. 20 After two days of "adventure cycling."
Repeat after me: "It's not about distance, it's not about distance, it's not about distance..." We have cycled through such beautiful country, starting out on a bikepath along the wide, shallow, slow-moving and beautiful Loire. But as Robb noted last night: "I think we're going to get lost a lot on this trip." This is definitely biking country. It's also a UNESCO World Heritage site. The French advertise it and it's full of all kinds of people from all kinds of places on all kinds of bikes, many of them touring and fully loaded. But the maps and reality do not always match, and you are unexpectedly at an unmarked crossroad with nothing but your sense of direction and intuition to lead you. Hence it takes a lot longer to actually get to a destination than you imagined. With four of us, not always agreeing on the right direction, this can be somewhat tense. And yesterday, we split off on our way to the mother of all chateaus (Chambord), each couple convinced they knew the way. All ended well awhile later since we all eventually got to the correct path and arrived at the chateau within minutes of each other. So we have agreed that when in doubt - evidence is to rule! Each shall present his/her evidence and the majority shall decide whicyh way!
I can attest that Chambord is one hell of a structure, an enormous pile of stone built for Louis XIV centuries ago as a "hunting lodge" and used but rarely actually inhabited by many royals in following year. (It's got more turrets, chimneys, and generally pointy features than I've ever seen on one structure, and the keep, or central part, has an immense spiral staircase of stone--in a double helix). One royal owner, to impress, would escort a huge entourage to the chateau for a few days of hunting, and upon departure, break down and remove all the furniture until visiting again. The only guy who actually lived at Chambord for any time was exiled there. The grounds are fabulous, of course, but mais oui, what a prison!
Today we took the other way down the river to Amboise, location of the house where Leonardo da Vinci spent his last days (who knew? In France?). Unfortunately, it took us so long to get underway, and to get there (rest stop and lunch stop on the way), that upon arrival R and I decided to hop the train back to Blois in order to find an open bike shop (keep reading). So the K's went on to the chateau and took a later train back.
Train adventure: Managed to find the train station (very well signed in this country) and buy a ticket, told them we had a bike but not ... um ... the size. Train arrived spot on time (of course), but, where to get on. Long train headed to Paris. We saw a guy with a bike and ran with him to a second class car. He pointed to a door, we heaved the bike on just in time. He spoke good English, said we would be fine. Only one extra stop, 20 minutes, OK. Well, maybe, but we happened to be completely blocking the passage between cars.Totally. For each of the 3 ladies who wanted access to the Toilettes, Robb reared the bike up like a steed and they good naturedly passed under. The three gendarmes kindly stepped over the rear bar. Tout bien, apparently. The intermediate stop occurred without incident, but mon Dieu! No sooner were we on our way than The Boss showed up, a fat slightly officious Conductor who clearly did not like our position! But Monsieur, we don't speak French! Here is our ticket! We are getting off at Blois! After some muttering and teeth gnashing, he left us alone (and silently smirking to ourselves - if he had not been so officious we might have felt a little guillty, but there wasn't time because we were soon in Blois). To be fair, now, I must mention that as we walked down the platform, we did see that the last car of the train was for Velos. Next time, if there is one, we shall be informed!
The countryside is so beautiful, large fields of sunflowers hanging their heads of heavy seeds, corn, sorghum, rows of airy asparagas hedges, vineyards, vegetables, and flowers flowers flowers! We see tidy vegetable gardens with bright orange pumpkins and ripe tomatoes hanging off the vine. Huge planters in the towns are exploding with flowers, carefully tended arrangements at the height of form and color. Here they enjoy mixing flowers of many colors and habits. In some places we see fields or roadsides with cosmos and other wildflowers mixed in. The towns often have very old churches, narrow winding lanes, old stone buildings with wooden shutters, and very few people actually in evidence. We have also seen surprisingly few farm animals. The French adore their dogs, of course, even taking them into restaurants, but for a country that lives on cheese, it is surprising we have not seen cows or goats. In general, though, all is in order in the Val de Loire!
We are still in the shakedown phase in terms of cycling, trying to get organized and on the road before lunch! Part of it is just getting the bikes together. This morning Jane's rear tire was flat. Before that Jane and I took off walking lookiing for a market "just five minutes walk" from the hotel. Perhaps, if someone also mentions that you have to go over a bridge to get to it. Finally found it and bought stuff for lunch because the day before, we couldn't find any open market on the road, only a restaurant where we finally settled for lunch. It's not the cost since you can get a three course lunch for 12 E or so, but the delay. The French do love their food and covet a leisurely meal, but if you want to get anywhere and see anything, you need to do it yourself. Add to that the summer vacation, where many shops are closed for weeks, and you can see our challenge. So this is something we are still getting a grip on. Add to that the need to replenish water on the road - just another small challenge...
Speaking of vacation, the French are just as out here as everyone else, and we have seen hundreds and hundreds of RVs - they are everywhere. Much smaller than in the US, big enough for a family of four, and a few look like they can handle six. But none of the ersatz buses that we see, which never in a million years could navigate these towns! All the RVs are about the size of a small class B (Robb thinks that is just right), and we have yet to see a slideout......
Bike: R has been concerned about one of the cables on the bike and so today we set out to find the bike shop in town. Ferme until next week! Now what? What do you do when you don't know the town or the language? Well, you sit down and have a cold drink and people-watch and think about it. (Noticed a coin-operated dispenser of condoms hanging off the pharmacie. As R noted, in France in August, you may be dying of a life threatening emergency, but the pharmacie will remain closed for vacation. Sex, however, never takes a vacation... ) Anyway, you review the options, all bad. You are relieved that the bike is working for now but you worry about the future. Cycling back to the hotel, however, we found a tiny place with a lot of rental bikes in front. Voila! The nice young man produced a cable, a cable cutter, worked with Robb to make the repair, and sold us two new brake pads as well. What great relief!
As for how we ourselves are functioning on the bike, I would say well. Not many real hills here, though a few climbs out of the valley here and there, with eventual swoops back down through tiny towns with narrow streets to the river. Feels good to be out in the sun and fresh air, getting some exercise and loving the scenery. A haiku:

Cycliing by the Loire,
Each village is a postcard
We get lost again.

The wine: does not disappoint! For a few euros, a demi-pichet worth several glasses of local wine can be yours. My wine last night was a deep red verging on purple, and the taste: Mon Dieu!
The language is beginning to stick to my ears. I 'm getting the sound and the rhythm, and I enjoy the mandatory politesse of the salutations, pleases and thank yous that make this world go round.

Aug. 21 Sancerre
A small but dramatic hilltop town more like those in Tuscany, settled since Roman times. Known for wine. We drove through Amboise on the way and stopped for R and me to go through the chateau where Da Vinci lived. Knowing Robb's interest in things mechanical, the Ks really encouraged us to stop. It was nice because the chateau/museum has loads of Da Vinci's drawings and a whole floor of models, made by IBM (yes) from his drawings with materials that would have been at hand in his time. In addition the large garden of the chateau has life-size models of many of these machines that people can get on, in, or operate themselves. Our drive to Sancerre was beautiful, much of it along the Cher River. Close to Sancerre the view widened out and we could see miles of rolling farmland, most of it fallow fields which appeared to be wheat or hay. I had just asked: Where were the vineyards that Sancerre is so famous for, when we dropped over a rise and there they were spread out in front of us as far as the eye could see! And in the middle, this medieval Hershey's kiss of a town! We had some very tense moments driving up into the town in search of our hotel. The Centre Ville is a tangle of very narrow, winding streets - a wrong turn and you will be backing up, not turning around. We took one corner so tight, to get our long and wide van around, that Robb had to get out to direct and even so, we ran up on a curb. We made the turn with a couple inches to spare. Eventually and with great relief we found our hotel (good one!) and gratefully settled in. To cap off the day, a concert in the Notre Dame church this evening: an organ recital followed by a Belgian group playng and singing medieval music. Their encore was a piece that R and I have sung many times: Alle Sallite. Hard not to sing along! Medieval music in a stone church in a medieval town. What's that the ad says? Priceless!
R has just discovered an ad in an Atlantic he brought along, shows a luggage tag with the name: Barbara B. Geiger! Ad for Flexjet (?).

Aug. 23 (I think) This is Monday. We have just had a very nice ride along the Loire. The bike path was mostly crushed gravel, which means a leisurely pace, and there was no one on it. On the way to the path we happened upon a German couple (from Trier: I went to New Trier high school) going the other way, toward Orleans and had a very nice chat. These European bikers have it made - they virtually fall out their front doors into wonderful biking territory, and they certainly take advantage of it. The clouds were low, gray and threatening, and a wind was blowing, but we never got more than a brief sprinkle. We ate our cheese and bread at the side of the Loire, contemplating the river, the clouds, the wind, and a small white heron hunched over on a sand bar. A few people were out paddling yellow canoes. On the way back we decided to take a road and it turned out to be a nice one - pretty, not much traffic, with just enough ups and downs to make it interesting. The climb up to Sancerre was tough but rewarding: a 3-4 K steady climb with the view of medieval Sancerre above and a broad panorama of beautiful vineyards slowly retreating below. Now, at 4:30, it's raining.
My father would approve: I have just washed my entire outfit of the day, top to bottom, inside and out, in the sink.
Yesterday, Sunday, we were wakened at 7 by claps of thunder, flashes of lightning through the curtains and rain. R and I took off driving back to Blois with two goals: retrieve a skirt I left at the hotel there (oops) and see a chateau called Cheverny. I was very interested in seeing it because the guidebook said it was not only beautiful, but has been inhabited, and owned, by the same family since it was built in 1624-1640. It was a wonderful visit! It's a beautiful white stone building surrounded by vast lawns and shade trees, and the public rooms are beautifully decorated and clearly explained to visitors. Furthermore, the family still owns some 100 hunting dogs - hounds - and we saw these in their kennels sleeping together in big piles or leisurely stretching and walking around. Apparently they are fed at 5 pm daily, a spectacle. which the public can witness. Unfortunately we decided we had to get back to Sancerre, a considerable drive because there is no direct route. As it turned out, thousands of French tourists were on their way home. In one small city we went through, we passed by the tollroad back to Paris and it was a parking lot! The line of cars going the other way to get on the tollroad was astonishing. Fortunately, we got through ourselves without incident and came back to Sancerre in time for dinner and the K's stories of cycling on some very scary white roads outside of Sancerre. They made it up some murderous grades and lived to tell about it, but Jane was so exhausted she barely made it through dinner!
Robb's haiku about the standard French breakfast:

Petit dejuener-
Bread, croissant, coffee, juice, jam.
Careful with Jane's cheese!

I (B) have a haiku forming about food. It's not exactly right yet. Stay tuned...