We cycle along the Lot river. The heat is becoming increasingly oppressive. We are so naive that we set off at 10am as usual, only to find ourselves baking and suffering in the sweltering heat by 12 noon at the latest. To make matters worse, we have to take photos of the châteaux on the Lot in the blazing midday sun.
How beautiful the photos would be if taken in warm evening light.
Exhausted and in poor health, we arrive at the campsite in Cahors in the evening. Later, we manage to visit the town.
The forecast for the next few days predicts rising temperatures throughout France, and especially in our area. The site in Cahors is not good for us, neither for cyclists nor hikers. We have to move on, get up at 6am, set off without breakfast in moderate temperatures and reach our destination at noon, the municipal campsite in St-Sylvestre-sur-Lot. However, it is full and, despite our pleas, does not let us in. It is a blessing in disguise: the operator sends us to the nearby ‘Le Sablon’ campsite, which will be our home for the next three days. The swimming area, the bar open until late in the evening and the friendly operators make our days pleasant.
From noon onwards, we spend every fifteen minutes either in the pool, in the whirlpool or under the shower wearing shirts and shorts (Rolf). Then we endure ten minutes, suffer for five minutes in the heat, and start all over again. At night, it is too warm in the tent, so we lie outside. After three days surrounded exclusively by French regulars, we move on. Cycling from 7am to 12 noon, we reach other municipal campsites. We battle our way towards the Atlantic. Thankfully, the small towns always have a swimming pool, which makes our afternoons and evenings bearable.
Let us see how long we have to keep surviving in 15-minute intervals.
The landscape is flat, first vineyards, then occasional corn or sunflower fields, soon only sandy soil, small roads stretching straight as an arrow to the horizon, the occasional village, pine forests to the right and left. Everything is bone dry. It is 75 kilometres north to Bordeaux, with signs pointing south to Pau and Spain. We think we can already sense the Atlantic Ocean.