Cycle Tour of Normandy

Every tour teaches you something new — about packing, planning, and yourself. These notes aren’t rules so much as reminders: the small lessons learned after miles of trial and error, moments of improvisation, and a few well-earned comforts discovered along the way. They’re here to make the next adventure smoother, lighter, and maybe a little wiser.

Preparation

This tour is unique in that it’s rather random; I almost dare not draw it out on a map. Yet day to day, the cycling has been excellent because I’ve kept to the regional parks; those darker hreen areas on the map. Thanks to a mix of ferry crossings, last-minute gîte availability, and a ferry cancellation and rebooking, the result is a curious blend of touring, single-base days, two- or three-night stays, and plenty of geographic zigzagging — but somehow it all worked out.

Crucially, although there are stretches where I need to keep up forty-mile days back to back, there are also built-in opportunities for rest and recovery — for both you and me, should we need them.

And why not learn some of the language? Even a few rehearsed phrases make all the difference. I’ve found that if I take the lead — asking for what I need with prepared lines — I avoid being caught off guard by questions I can’t understand. A friendly “bonjour” to start and “merci, au revoir” to end go a long way. Conversations in bakeries, cafés, and hotels are reassuringly predictable. If someone corrects your pronunciation, take it as a kindness — they’re helping, not judging. Try to remember the word, gender, or sound they offer.

Kit List

A kit list is invaluable: prepare it once, refine it over time, and reuse it. It prevents the inevitable “I forgot the…” moment — and heaven forbid it’s the charging lead for your bone-conducting headphones or Wahoo device. Understanding where the weight sits in your kit helps too; weigh individual items or whole groups to see what adds up. Personally, I still need to find the courage to leave the heavy-duty locks behind.

Clothing adds weight quickly. Only the layers that touch the skin need frequent washing, so pack quick-drying base layers and choose versatile items that can be layered.

Getting There

For this tour, I fell back on tried and tested travel plans. London Waterloo to Portsmouth Harbour with South Western Railway remains a straightforward journey, now improved with dedicated bike spaces separate from the disabled areas.

As the Portsmouth–St Malo ferry sails at 8:15 p.m., boarding doesn’t begin until around 7:30. It’s worth shrugging on a waterproof or extra layer — there’s plenty of waiting involved, first for security checks, then again before boarding. The new Portsmouth ferry terminal is worth a look as cyclists still have limited shelter apart from the drafty bike shed. Motorbikes and bicycles share their own lane, so there’s little to gain by leaving the terminal too early — but do make sure you’re back in good time for boarding because cycles board first.

The ride from Portsmouth Harbour station to the ferry terminal is about three kilometres or 15 minutes. The best route takes you via Grafton Street and Estella Road, ending with an underpass that brings you out right beside the terminal entrance. Route.

Getting Back

For the return journey, I’m using the Cherbourg–Poole ferry for the first time. It’s a 9:30 p.m. sailing, so I needed to layer up early against the chill, check-in before dark (I didn’t bring lights), and make use of whatever facilities are available while waiting to board. The ride from Cherbourg centre to the ferry terminal is short and straightforward and you can either stay on the road or use the sections of cycle lane that are provided. In contrast to Portsmouth the wait was before check-in where there is the terminal building and picnic benches. Perhaps because it was early October it wasn't busy, check-in opened at 7:45 p.m. and once through check-in it is customs then passport control before cycling solo round the houses to the specified car park; P2 for me. Certainly have lights or high visibility clothing. Once on board it is really just sleep then get ready to disembark.

The ferry intercom system will provide messages to wake you up, invite you to buy breakfast, leave your cabin and then go down to your deck for your car or bike. The first alarm will be an hour before arrival so plenty of time to wash and pack. You will be asked to leave the cabin 30 minutes before arrival.

If you rely solely on your phone to tell the time then it will probably display in the last known time zone such as Central European Summer Time. If you want to know the time in the UK to work out if it's worth getting up look at your phones Clock app and within that the World Clock tab.

Hopefully - unlike me - you will have checked daylight hours and will have lights if required.

It is a seven minute ride from Poole ferry to Poole railway station. Either get your navigation tool up and started on the ferry or just pull over when you are past passport control. Route.

From Poole, getting back to London Waterloo by South Western Railway is simple and familiar with a journey time of 2 hours 10 minutes or more subject to the train.

Learning Lessons

This trip turned out to be cool and overcast, so the sunglasses and sunscreen stayed in the bag, while the heavy waterproofs proved invaluable. Always pack for both extremes — hot and cold — even if you didn’t need one or the other last time.

Since my focus is cycling, I could easily have left the running shoes at home. They take up space and rarely get used. A pair of barefoot shoes or light sandals would be better next time.

My glasses case turned out to be surprisingly heavy — perhaps transition lenses and one pair of glasses would do.

Cycling shoes, once wet, tend to stay that way. They never seem to dry properly. Next time I’ll take more socks — light, medium, and thick — to cope with variable weather and the unavoidable smell of damp shoes.

Running tops make ideal base layers: light, quick-drying, and far better than heavy cotton T-shirts.

The body wallet stayed in the bag; a simple card wallet was all I needed. If you add anything to your kit, remove something else — weight creeps up quickly.

Switching your phone to airplane mode while riding saves battery life, as it won’t constantly search for a mobile signal. If you’re planning long days in the saddle and worry about power, bring a small power bank or even a paper map for reassurance.

And finally, if things go wrong, just do the next thing — whatever that is. Sit down, drink some water, eat a banana, and let your next move appear. Those three small actions have a way of resetting everything.

Index

Monday, 6 October 2025

Day 21 - Cherbourg

The mushrooms in last night’s omelette were the small, black variety known rather dramatically as trumpets of death — though my host assured me, with a grin, that we’d survive the experience. They’re also called horns of plenty, black chanterelles, or black trumpets. Whatever their name, they were delicious: earthy, rich, and perfectly balanced against the eggs. The andouille de Vire sausage that followed was equally good — smoky and full of flavour, but without the harsh, pungent edge that andouille sometimes carries.

This morning’s fatigue isn’t down to mushrooms, but to five steady days in the saddle: 215 miles in total — 41, 41, 45, 46, and 43 miles each day. It’s not quite how I’d like to begin my final and longest stretch, at 57 miles, but it’s all still within my comfortable limit. I note it here as a reminder for planning future tours: effort accumulates quietly, even when the scenery distracts you.

By 10 a.m. I’ve stopped for a quick coffee, and an hour later I’m in Périers, sitting with a small pile of pastries for a second breakfast.

With 26 kilometres behind me and 66 still ahead, it feels like the day is just beginning. The town square has an interesting fountain — I only understand its meaning after reading the nearby plaque. Along the Voie Verte (the old railway line turned cycle path), there are many former station houses still standing, their names intact above the doors. Many are now private homes, so I don’t photograph them, but I like that the display boards tell their stories — tiny windows into the past.

At the halfway point, I stop to take a photo of a sign showing the distance to Cherbourg. I’ll finish about ten kilometres short of the town, so from here on I can count the distance down. The Voie Verte offers a steady, easy rhythm — flat, quiet, and green — and the miles slip by pleasantly. Only a few obstacles break the flow: the occasional fallen tree, or a flash of colour as a small lizard darts across the path. In one of the fields I spot four roe deer; their reddish-brown coats blend perfectly with the freshly turned soil, so I leave the camera in my pocket and simply watch.

I pause in Bricquebec for a picnic lunch — bread, cheese, and fruit bought earlier from a Super U supermarket — and sit within sight of the château and church. They’re worth photographing, but I can’t summon the energy to search for the perfect angle. Sometimes it’s enough just to look.

The Voie Verte ends abruptly, and I rejoin the open road, where the familiar Normandy landscape rolls gently once more. My legs are tired, but still turning well.

Tomorrow I head home, and this marks the end of a very successful tour having covred 900 mikes in three weeks; an average of 43 miles per day. The route may have seemed random when I planned it, but staying within the regional parks proved to be a fine decision — it’s given me great cycling, gorgeous scenery, and countless small pleasures: food, encounters, and moments that remind me why I travel this way.

As I pack up the bike for the journey home, I’m aware of how easily the rhythm of the road seeps into everyday life — the quiet starts, the steady turning of the pedals, the small discoveries that punctuate each mile. Normandy has revealed itself slowly, through its misty mornings, its food, its history, and its people.

Each day has carried its own balance of fatigue and reward, of effort and stillness. What began as a route drawn on a screen became a thread connecting villages, landscapes, and moments that now feel stitched into memory.

The beauty of a cycling tour is its simplicity: movement, observation, rest, repeat. It strips things back to the essentials — a good meal, a quiet road, a bed at the end of the day. And as I think about home, I realise that the satisfaction lies not just in reaching the end, but in the slow, deliberate way of getting there and then the joy of heading home.

Index

Sunday, 5 October 2025

Day 20 - Saint-Lô

You may remember that I saw foragers out collecting mushrooms in the forests around Bagnoles-de-l'Orne. Well, tonight my host has promised to make me an omelette from foraged mushrooms. She has assured me that her forager husband knows what he is doing and I trust her to make am omelette.

If the style, spelling, or grammar of this journal drifts now and then, it’s because my state of mind and level of fatigue do the same. I write when I can — sometimes from a café table, sometimes half-asleep in a hotel room — and occasionally I call upon ChatGPT to smooth things out or “pimp it up” a little.

My first pause today is to photograph some mistletoe, a common sight in Normandy. It grows high in the trees, attached like a graft, its green clusters standing out against bare autumn branches. As I’m taking the picture, I spot my second deer of the trip — a roe deer. It hesitates at the roadside, then suddenly bounds across in front of me, changes its mind, and darts back the other way, disappearing over the fields in a flash of movement.

A few miles later, I stop at a château. After taking a photo from the road, I move closer to read its name — one that, in hindsight, should have been obvious. The building is elegant yet understated, with soft stone walls and slate roofs gleaming in the morning light.

Still only ten miles in, I’m drawn to the magnificent tower of a village church rising unexpectedly from among the houses. It’s truly beautiful, and as a bonus, the square outside is alive with a gathering of classic cars. Their polished chrome and pastel paintwork gleam like jewels against the old stone backdrop. The French love doing things in groups — cycling, walking, picnicking — and their affection for classic cars seems boundless.

Arriving in Coutances, I’m not surprised to find most shops and cafés closed; Sunday afternoons in rural France move at their own gentle pace. I’m lucky to find a crêperie open and enjoy what feels like my last proper meal out, though I still have a couple of days left to ride. After three weeks on the road, cycling has become my daily rhythm, my way of life. Yet now my thoughts are beginning to turn homeward, to routines and familiar comforts waiting at the end of the journey.

For lunch, I skip the galette and order an entrecôte. Steak and chips have become something of a standard on this tour, and I’ve started experimenting — ordering it rare and with different sauces. In the past, I’ve gone for à point, but that’s a little too done for my taste. Today’s steak arrives perfectly cooked, full of flavour, served simply with a small bowl of sea salt and no sauce at all — and it’s all the better for it.

This is my third visit to Coutances, and today I’m determined to see both the gardens and the cathedral properly. I manage both, rewarded in the cathedral by the sound of the organist practising, the deep notes echoing through the vast Gothic interior.

On the return leg, I weave along quiet roads near the railway that links Saint-Lô and Coutances. As I approach one of the crossings, the lights begin to flash and the alarm sounds. For a moment, it’s tempting to slip through, but I stop — and it’s just as well. The barriers drop almost instantly, and within three seconds a train thunders past in a blur of motion. I barely have time to take a photo before the moment is gone.

Today was meant to be a short 50-kilometre ride, but by the time my navigation tool had done its creative rerouting, that number had quietly grown — as it always seems to on this trip. Oh, and if you want to know what the omelette tasted like read on tomorrow, assuming I survive.

Index

Day 21

Saturday, 4 October 2025

Day 19 - Saint-Lô

I was awake quite a bit last night with the sound of rain pounding on the window. I am slightly nervous about the high winds forecast for today but the rain will have passed. My modified route will keep me on minor roads hopefully protected by hedgerows. As with yesterday’s problem with my navigation tool and lack of mobile data if anything goes wrong I can rely on that old technique; just do the next thing, whatever that is.

Last night, I reviewed today’s route and removed any paths or state roads. It’s an easy task with the navigation tool I use — you can highlight sections to avoid and then drop points to reroute. I don’t want a repeat of yesterday’s farm tracks, and with the strong winds, I’d rather stay clear of busy roads. I also took a few screenshots of the route and downloaded the relevant maps from Google Maps.

Sainte-Mère-Église is a small town now devoted entirely to Second World War remembrance, with its Airborne Museum and countless tributes. Even the local hairdresser has joined in, naming their salon Hairborn — a clever nod to history. Can you spot the parachutist?

Free of dirt and freshly lubricated, the bike feels much better today. I’d pumped both tyres yesterday morning, and the improved pressure gives me a steadier, more confident ride — especially in this wind.

Further along, I reach Carentan, where more D-Day memorabilia shops and information boards line the streets. I’d already passed a D-Day Experience museum earlier in the morning. Travelling parallel to the coast, just six miles inland, it’s no surprise that the landscape is steeped in wartime echoes.

I arrive in Carentan by noon, torn between pushing on to outrun the rain or stopping for lunch. In the end, food wins — there’s no point rushing when check-in isn’t until six.

Reaching Saint-Lô with time to spare, I take a walk around the town’s ramparts, visit the Church of Notre Dame and wander to the main square where memorials and plaques honour the French Resistance. It takes me a while to warm to Saint-Lô, and I realise that after 815 miles, fatigue has finally caught up with me. The boat beliw is called Le Saint l'eau. It must be National pun day.

Index

Day 20

Friday, 3 October 2025

Day 18 - Valognes

As storm Amy hits the UK I now have a clear picture of the impact on me. Today will be breezy and wet and tomorrow will be very - and I mean very - windy. The good news is that on both days I will have tailwinds despite me heading north today to Valognes and south-south-east tomorrow to Saint-Lô. A quirky route caused by a ferry cancellation and my unwillingness to lose money on a non-refundable hotel booking in Valognes. It allows me to cycle round Normandy which is why I'm here so I'm not terribly put out. As to the rain, the anticipation of a wet day is always worse than the reality.

Looking at the map below, I start at Coutance today (the blue dot) and go up to A, tomorrow I cycle from A to B, the day after is probably from B to Coutances and back to B, then it's a long ride up to Cherbourg.

Much of today is on a greenway, the Voie Verte Sottevast á Coutances, so at least I will have shelter of sorts and it is mostly flat. As part of my pre-ride planning this morning I included a stop at a McDonald's restaurant; it will be open and I can hang out relatively guilt-free to dry off and warm up as required. In addition, it will have WiFi which is relevant as I have used up my roaming data allowance because the gîte had no WiFi and loading photos onto the blog consumes a lot of data. Oh yes, and I didn't monitor my data usage.

I often find the tourist maps you find while cycling are the most useful; everything laid out in one big graphic. This gives me an option of using the Easternmost side of this loop of the EuroVelo 4 route when I go from Saint-Lô to Cherbourg.

The landscape is flatter here though the greenway which follows an old railway embankment feels it has more undulations than most. Along the way I met a group of young children with teachers and parents on an outing; they had one large horse drawn caravan, a small carriage, a pony and smiles on their faces.

My navigation tool hasn't 'remembered' the map for the last quarter of today and with no mobile data it can't download it. This leaves me with a blank screen with a red line showing where I've been, a blue dot showing where I am, and a blue line indicating where I should go; just no map information such as lines for roads. This would have been manageable if the route kept to roads but it kept seeking out farm tracks. Luckily I had taken screenshots of the later sections of the route so I managed to track over via lanes to catch the main road into town.

Even though I didn't venture into any muddy fields the bike was in a state from the Voie Verte and had been grinding all day so I tried something I have never done before and went to a car wash. Though the instructions were a challenge at first, I was soon jet washing the bike and though it was low pressure it did a great job of those hard to reach places.

NOTE: HIGH PRESSURE IS BAD AS YOU PUSH WATER INTO BEARINGS AND STRIP OFF DECALS. DETERGENTS ARE BAD AS THEY REMOVE OILS DESIGNED TO RESIST RUST OR AID A SMOOTH DRIVETRAIN.

Despite the clean bike the shiny hotel didn't want a bike inside. When I turned my nose up at the exposed bike racks I was allowed to prop it up beside the hotel and was suddenly grateful I had carried a heavyweight lock.

Valognes has an Abbey but apart from that you could treat Valognes as a quick stopover when going to or from the Cherbourg ferry. However, the town is packed with grocers, butchers, bakeries and varied eateries, and would be a great base if you enjoy something less touristy. I really liked the feel of the place.

Tonight's job is ensuring tomorrow's route avoids mud and that I have some navigational backup such as off-line Google Maps of the area.

Index

Day19

Thursday, 2 October 2025

Day 17 - Coutances

I am excited about getting to Coutances which is another forty-mile day; an ideal distance for me. Fair weather is forecast for today (Thursday) then I'll be catching the edge of storm Amy tomorrow and the day after.

Yesterday I crossed from the Orne department in the south of Normandy into the south-west tip of Calvados and today I head north-west into the Manche department. As you can see I have been in the hillier bit of Normandy, the Collines de Normandie.

The church in Moyon has an exhibition describing the liberation of this village. There are 10 boards fixed to the outside as a reminder of the impact on France during WW2 and I expect they were put up as part of the 80 year anniversary.

This is another of the village (communal) ovens and it is common that they are attached to a small building which I assume was a bakery.

For lunch today I actually looked ahead and with some small adjustment and a bit of planning on my timings arrived at a restaurant at noon for Le Menu. The establishment is very much targeted at the workers but does attract some few locals. It was typical of the area and for €16 I was treated to:
- Buffet starter (cured mackerel with various salads)
- Bavette (steak) with a huge pile of green beans
- 1 litre cider (I didn't drink it all!)
- Crème caramel
- Coffee

More scenic cycling with plenty to see. There are many small orchards and they are usually hard to photograph but this was in a hedgerow.

Arriving in Coutances really did feel like an arrival. You get a few good views of the cathedral on your approach, a leg burning climb and then the final entrance to the square in front of the cathedral. With rain due tomorrow I saw they were clearing away the summer display of plants. I fall into a café on the square before making my way to the hotel which is on the edge of town.

While sat in the café I try and make a rational decision about the front tyre which has lost pressure during the day.

Option 1 Just pump it up each day and don't risk making things worse. I know there is rain coming but if it ain't really really broke why fix it?

Option 2 As it is dry at present and I have time just investigate and try and resolve it. Worst case is using one of Coutances' bike shops.

Yes, I do the repair. I find a thorn, use my nail clippers to get it out and repair the punctured inner-tube which I then refit so I still have a fresh spare inner-tube.

Yes, I brought nail clippers. You know it's a long bike ride when nail clippers are an essential item.

Index

Day 18