Le Mans MotoGP; 2006
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Le Mans Route
Home to Beaumont Pied de Boeuf via Eurotunnel
The ride up to Folkestone via Sandwich was straightforward enough. The only problem we had, surprise, surpise, was that car park that's called the M25. We had to filter for miles and because of this we did need to put on a bit of a spurt to get from Sandwich to the tunnel. Dave enjoyed that bit.
This was the second time I had crossed the channel by tunnel and I have to say it beats the ferries hands down for me. No worries about how some matelot has tied down (or not) my bike, takes about 40 minutes and it's straight on and straight off with no fuss or mal-de-mer. (I know I'm from Plymouth but I've never been a good sailor.) At Calais, we got on the autoroute and made our way straight to the Ibis at Abbeville. We got there around 11pm, parked up and had a few drinks with a couple on a bike who crossed the channel with us and were also off to Le Mans. The Ibis was just right for what we needed and we had a very comfortable night there (despite the lady moaning away loudly in the room above us).
Next day we had breakfast at the Ibis and were away by around 10pm. Today was the day I was to become acquainted with Dave's SatNav. Dave programs the SatNav to take the shortest route between Abbeville and Le Mans avoiding autoroutes and off we go down dirt tracks Dougie Lampkin would have complained about. I eventually mutinied when Dave pointed to a ploughed lane the SatNav was telling us to take. How I marvelled as we circled a wind farm to arrive back at where we had started from. After an hour or so we were at a signpost telling us we were 14 Km from Abbeville. Guess what? The SatNav was telling us to go in the direction of Abbeville. I refused and got the map out.
Saturday morning was very stormy. It was blowing a gale and big branches were falling off trees into the road. After I had regained some confidence in Dave's SatNav, we pushed on down some nice B roads but the weather was looking very ominous. Dave did I get flashed by a GATSO? Dave creases with laugher and points to a lightning storm going on just off to the north west of us. A little further down the road we get hit by the most torrential rain I have encountered in my motorcycling life. I couldn't see a thing with water pouring down the inside of my visor and glasses. I must admit to being a bit anxious. I must have slowed down to about 5mph. I kept wondering whether there were any big branches in the road or any loony drivers approaching too fast from behind. Dave was doing better than me and he pulled away and I lost sight of his rear light. When I next got a blurry glimpse of Dave, he had sensibly pulled up on a shop front. I pulled up alongside and we waited for the rain to pass. It surely was the mother of all showers. It had turned the roads to rivers. Full marks to both bikes as they never missed a beat.
Change of Accommodation
After the heavy shower we carried on a bit further and pulled up in a covered market area in a small village and headed for the local restaurant and bar just as another shower started. After a nice lunch, we pushed on and although it remained very windy it stayed dry all the way to Le Mans. We rode straight to the auberge at Beaumont P-de-B to be greeted by the patron, Phillipe, telling us there's a problem. Apparently the authorities will not let him open his rooms and he's at a loss to understand why. However he has made alternative arrangements for us to stay in a farm just up the road about 3Km away. We have a beer and ponder on what to do? No choice really so we follow the Phillipe in his car on our bikes to the farm. Dave gets Phillipe to agree to driving us back to his restaurant for a meal and, after that, back to the farm so that we can have a few drinks.
It turns out that the farm is very comfortable and run by a very nice couple who make us very welcome. They don't speak English but we manage to muddle by on our limited French. Before we leave for the restaurant the couple insist on us taking an aperitif with them which turns out to be a good measure of pernod. Fortified, we get back to the restaurant which is heaving with locals from the village. The locals are very friendly and and we have a very good meal and a few beers. Philippe turns out to be a nice guy and tells us he once cooked for our Queen. Certainly we had no complaints about his food. The pernod did kick in whilst we were having dinner!
Le Mans MotoGP
Next day we skip breakfast and ride straight to the the circuit for the MotoGP. French bikers with miniscule number plates, tinted visors, loud cans and a multitude of coloured headlamps are all around us. (French police seem a lot more tolerant than ours.) It's an easy ride to the circuit where we park up on a solid surface in a secure area. It cost about £36 to get in and the events programme is free. (British organisers please take note.)
The racing is good but not so good for Rossi. After impressively overhauling everyone to take the lead his Yamaha engine gives up leaving the victory to Marco Melandri and Honda. We had a good day at the circuit, the weather was great with both of us getting a little sunburned. Mind you, the rain chucked it down on Saturday night and the campsites looked pitiful. Mud and rubbish everywhere. No thanks! I think Dave and I did give the crowd some entertainment as they watched two middle aged Englishmen struggle to scale a 5' fence.
After the MotoGP we headed for Vieux Mans, the old part of Le Mans. We were fairly warm by now so we parked up at a bar and sat outside having a drink with a bunch of bikers. After a short walk around the place we got back on the bikes and headed for Chateau du Loir. There are some extensive road works going on Le Mans and the traffic jam was huge on the way out of Le Mans. My thanks to the French driver who pulled his door mirror in rather than lose it on my pannier. After an agressive bit of filtering, Dave and I with a bunch of French bikers get pulled over by the French police on the outskirts of Le Mans. Dave finds the concerned look on my face very funny. The police wave us on after finding out we're Brits.
We stop for another drink at a bar in Chateu du Loir and then we head off to the find the river Loir. This was a key objective of the trip for Dave. After that it's back to Chateau du Loir for a meal outside a restaurant. So there we are having a nice meal when this guy wearing a torn sweatshirt and motorcyle leathers walks up to us. He could tell we were bikers and I guess our lobster complexions told him we were Brits. "I crashed today he blurts out." Turns out the poor devil and his wife had crashed their Moto Guzzi in a ditch somewhere earlier that day. Apart from a broken toe and grazed knuckles, he seemed to be in a bit of shock. His wife was back at the hotel resting with a swollen but unbroken ankle. They had nothing to wear as the police had taken their bike complete with its panniers somewhere. He was full of praise for the French people who had helped them at the scene of the crash and the hospital. His sweatshirt had been ripped by the paramedics when they stuck a drip in his arm to stop him going into shock. Carole Nash also seemed to have done a good job at sorting out things for them. Anyway, we sat there for a couple of hours drinking coffe and listening to him. He seemed to feel better talking to us although we doubt whether he'll remember any of it.
The Long Ride Home
On Monday morning we're up around 8am, we have coffee with the couple at the farm, say our goodbyes to them and ride over to the restaurant for breakfast. On our way over Dave's impressed that his irreverence for authority is starting to rub off on me as I kick navigation a plastic barrier erected around some roadworks blocking our way and ride through the roadworks past the guys working there. (Beware of Dave's dark side taking over.) Philippe cooks us up a lovely breakfast and I get the big omlette. Dave's too slow! We notice there's a painter finishing off Philippe's rooms. That's the reason the authorities wouldn't allow him to open! Never mind, when he gets the rooms finished it will be a great place to stay with a private pool, parking and a fine restaurant on the doorstep. Dave and I commit to bringing the wives back here when the rooms are finished.
After our slow doodle down to Le Mans on minor roads we decide to take the fast autoroutes back to Calais. The wind is back for the ride to Calais but we make good time until I almost run out of petrol. Dave and I have a slight disagreement over, guess what, the SatNav and its ability to locate a petrol station. Dave cannot understand my reluctance to depend on it. Eventually I find petrol and we push on to Calais. When we get to Calais it's blowing a real gale and the ferries have been stopped. Good job we're taking the tunnel! We manage to get on an earlier train and we get to Folkestone around 6:00pm to ride home to Poole. It's cold back in England after France and we get drenched by cold rain coming down the M3. After a few stops we arrive home around 9:30pm having done 1063 miles over the long weekend. The weekend didn't go exactly as planned but that made it all the more enjoyable. I feel we definitely will be back to see Philippe again. We certainly got far better weather than we expected to. (Far better than the weather had been in England.) And the bikes did well! One other thing, the deal we struck was that if we go to Le Mans in May the wives go to Tenerife in June (without us). I guess that's fair.