TOUR DE FRANCE (or St Pol de Leon-Morlaix "Half" and Taulé-Morlaix 10K)
7:30 Thursday evening at the Blues and the group who had decided to go running to France were assembling for the trip. What a start! Two of the group were missing already. Needles to say Messrs Heard and Rigler (P) were sampling a couple of lagers in the bar. Off we went (on time!) and had an uneventful trip to the Ferryport at Plymouth for the embarkation onto the boat.
Although we had booked cabins, it seemed virtually the whole group were in the bar within minutes of the minibus being parked. Most retired reasonably early but a couple stayed on, Mr Heard already doing his best to cement Anglo-French relations. The journey seemed quite quick, and soon we arrived in Morlaix. A reconnoitre of the town showed it to be a most picturesque place hosting plenty of restaurants and bars. Off we went to find our hotel and the lovely Madame Nicholas, our manageress (and in some cases laundry lady). Nice location, about 3km from the town and although set back from the main road, very quiet.
Most of the group decided to stroll to the town and purchase food, drink, etc., to take back to the hotel for a quiet afternoon. Messrs Bowden and Heard found the walk too tiring though and decided their garlic sausage salami and bread should be eaten in the Square and they could catch a taxi home. Well they happened to sit outside a bar and were persuaded to purchase bottles of red wine. Drinking this and eating their bread and sausage, all they needed to become the stereotypical Frenchman was the obligatory beret and string of onions around the neck.
Mr Bowden enjoyed his afternoon so much that he failed to make the evening excursion in search of hostelries, so ably escorted by Ms Hodgkins in our minibus. After dining we ended in a bar (there's a surprise) with Peter (the Rocket) Rigler taking on all-comers at pool. It took the skills of Alan (Bandit) Cox to bring him back down to Earth. However, Peter got his revenge in the return match. Back to the hotel for much needed late drinks from Madame Nicholas and her first attempts to teach us some basic French (very basic, sometimes!)
Saturday dawned (as did all the other days) frosty and sunny and everyone split into groups to explore the markets and shops. By this time Karen and John had joined us but the overnight crossing had left them fairly tired and soon after lunch they caught up on lost sleep while the rest of us stayed on in the town. That evening was supposed to be quiet with the race next day but as the French had organised afternoon starts - as they said everyone should enjoy the wine with meal so morning starts were an anathema to them - it wasn't as quiet as it might have been. In fact, Mr Curry and Mr Cox had the enjoyment of seeing Mr Heard slipping off his bar stool before deciding that he ought to start hydrating his system.
Another lovely morning and off we went - the organisation went like clockwork - buses to the respective starts and everyone was ready. At the 10K start, the "Jessies" (as we had been called for not doing the half marathon) lined up in the areas relating to our estimated times for the race. What we didn't know was that the French take absolutely no notice of these. After about 500m we turned a corner to start uphill and I couldn't believe the number of runners in front - probably approaching 2000. All our other participants had the same problem getting past slower runners and this obviously showed in their finishing times. I must say the 10K was an excellent course, and the half marathon, hilly early on, became fast in the second half.
The crowds were marvellous throughout and with the roads closed all the way the organisation was first class. Towards the end the last two km was absolutely packed with spectators, and I had the surprise of seeing some Bideford people who shouted as I went past (Chris Cann & family). When the 10K runners had finished, we collected our kit and joined John back on the course to take photos and cheer on our half marathon participants.
Back to the hotel to shower and change, before meeting up again in the bar ASAP. The results of the sweepstakes were announced, Roger Rigler was declared the winner by Madame Hodgkins - Andy Jewell was last again. A couple of quick aperitifs and then into town for food and drink, while Peter informed us he was going birdwatching - he told me he was after a cormorant (or a relative of one - work it our for yourself!)
Nice meal again and we ended up in the hotel where the Plymouth runners were based. Messrs Heard and Rigler decided to try the nightclub scene, the rest of us went back to our hotel. We waited in the bar until about 12:30 so that we could celebrate Mr Heard's birthday, but apparently he arrived back just after the last but one had retired - so John was the only one to hear the story of how he had to run all the way from town due to it being a Sunday and their being no bloody taxis! Pete had been left in the nightclub. So, next morning at breakfast we asked Peter what time and how he had got back. The answer came - about half past two, and by taxi! Heardy must have gone to the bus stop.
We all packed up, took some more photos and said our goodbyes to Madame Nicholas and her daughter and off to the hypermarket where Peter, Andy and Alan (H) had obviously planned to buy enough booze to open up a bar back home. After eventually getting everyone into the bus, into Roscoff (a lovely town), and some lunch before boarding the ferry. "This is the captain speaking - the sea is rough with a Force 6-7 North-easterly". Oh dear! After a couple of hours the boat resembled a war zone, with people in various stages of dying as it gradually rolled more and more until the captain called everyone in from the decks for safety reasons. Mesdames Hodgkins and Ballantyne decided to join us at the cinema to watch a showing of "The Full Monty". Watch turned out not to be the operative word as they were both feeling so bad they sat with their eyes closed throughout the film. Various other members of the party were also feeling decidedly queasy and everyone was glad then we reached the safety of the Plymouth breakwater.
Roger managed to get stopped at Customs, but got through quickly, and we all travelled home after an excellent break.
The results are were printed in the last newsletter, and I would recommend the race(s) to anyone. The French were very helpful, and the organisation was superb. Shame about that ferry crossing!