The train journey to Portsmouth went without a hitch, and we boarded the boat at 8.15 as planned. After taking in a dose of the rather dodgy entertainment on offer, we called it a night in readiness for an early start the next morning.
The captain of the ferry kindly woke us over the tannoy at the unearthly hour of 6am, to announce our imminent arrival into St Malo. With visions of a glorious beginning to the trip, rolling off the ferry and straight into an assured ride, the reality was rather less glamorous, as after pushing our bikes uphill into the ferry port, we were forced to stop less than 100m later and get the maps out. Nevertheless, after some brief detours taking in various parts of the St Malo area, we eventually found our path alongisde the river that would take us a considerable way towards Bedee, our destination that night.
However, the day would turn out to be one of two distinct halves. After tearing through the first 25 miles along the river bank, we decided that this was too easy, we'd reach Bedee too soon, and that instead we would extend our planned route to take in the city of Rennes. Well, roughly 10 miles into this doomed detour, we came across a signpost telling us we were on the route to Rennes, but that it was another 40 miles out of our way, as opposed to the 10 or 12 we had thought. Needless to say, despite Dad's utmost protestations that this was doable, we decided to replan, and save Rennes for another time.
The second half of the day, now we had left the river, was characterised by a series of long uphill struggles, followed by an all too brief period of downhill relief. Dad seemed to have been watching a little too much of 'la Tour' and began to frequently draw comparisons between his ability on a bike and that of now 17 time stage winner Mark Cavendish. The next 15 miles of undulating terrain were a far cry from the earlier flatness of the morning stint. It was then, with great relief that we arrived in Bedee after around 4.5 hours of cycling. Craving some liquid refreshment, to say Bedee was a disappointment would be as gross an exaggeration as Dad had previoulsy been guilty of with his comparisons to Cavendish. In a town of over 4000, not one solitary store was open, including the hotel bar and restaurant. Nevertheless, our disappointment was lifted somewhat after stumbling upon a lady unlocking the door to a bar next door. We then discovered that we needn't starve either, as a restaurant was soon to open also. The day ended with a sizeable cote de beouf for dinner, and some excellent Bordeaux red. After a successful first stint, it was then an earlyish night to recharge for tomorrows pursuits.
Distance: 54.4 miles
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