France 2008:  The Millau Bridge & Back

By Malcolm Bruce

The decision to buy a new bike galvanised my thoughts to tour France and after

seeing the Millau Bridge in a magazine article and on Top Gear, I decided that it

would be my main destination. 

I placed my order for my K1200S BMW complete with all the extras and then

booked the ferry for the 16th August.  The furthest I had ever been to date was

Sammy Miller’s Museum in the New Forest, so imagine my excitement and

trepidation. I collected my brand new bike on the evening of 6th August and had 9

days to do the 600 mile running in and get a service before we went - easy really

when you’re like a kid with a new toy.

At last Day 1 arrived with an alarm call at 4.15am to be at Dover for the 6.45 ferry

to Calais.  We were the first bike on and

once it was strapped down, we got into

conversation with four other bikers who

were off to Austria and looking forward

to a 380 mile first day.

After wishing them a safe trip we

(that’s Liz, my then current girlfriend

and new biker babe) went to find

breakfast.  By chance we ended up in

the lorry drivers’ restaurant and were

made very welcome by the French

staff. After breakfast, we retired to one

of the lounges to discuss the route.  We

had planned a route down the eastern

side of France to get to the Millau

Bridge and had booked the first three

nights in various Campanile hotels (a

large chain of hotels throughout Europe

that are good value, clean and normally have their own restaurant).

Our first overnight stop was Troyes approx 300 miles from Calais and we arrived

late afternoon.  With the bike safely locked away in a hotel store room (what

service), we showered and changed, ordered a taxi and went into the main town for

a few drinks and a meal.  Troyes reminded me very much of Canterbury, with street

after street of old timbered buildings and a relaxed atmosphere of people enjoying

al fresco food and drink; well worth a visit again sometime. 

Day 2, itching to get back on the bike, couldn’t believe how little I ached as

normally after riding my previous bike (ZZR1100) for only 50 miles I felt the

aches for a day or two.  Our route took us down some great A roads through typical

empty French towns and villages.

Our first stop was at a friend’s parent’s house at Clamery, a village just north west

of Dijon where we enjoyed tea and biscuits and a chance for Liz to practice her

French. After exchanging many kisses on both cheeks, we set off for St Etienne via

Macon and Lyon.  We had great fun navigating the Lyon peripherique which

seemed to be tunnel after tunnel. Even the standard BMW exhaust sounded good

through them.

After 250 miles we arrived at the St

Etienne Campanile hotel which sat

on a hillside overlooking a splendid

valley.  No need to store the bike

away as this hotel had a fenced

perimeter and an overnight locked

gate. After a pleasant walk in the

country lanes, we dined in the hotel

and after a few drinks retired for the

night ready for the next day’s

adventures. Couldn’t wait; wish I

had done this before.

Day 3. We left St Etienne on the motorway which had some great sweeping bends

mixed with ups and downs, but soon joined into an A road en route to the main

purpose of our tour: the Millau Bridge.

We stopped in Mende and bought a picnic lunch to eat once we found somewhere

suitable to enjoy the views.  Our chosen route lead us onto the Gorges du Tarn

which has got to be one of the most enjoyable days riding ever.  After descending

into the valley bottom we found the perfect spot for our picnic lunch beside the

meandering river.  With nobody about, a bit of skinny dipping was in order before

setting about our french bread and cheese. 

The road followed the course of the river for miles and we passed through

numerous limestone arches, tunnels and tight bends on the edge of a sheer drop,

fully expecting Jeremy Clarkson to be coming the opposite way. 

After stopping for an ice cream and vista break we returned to the bike to find a car

stopped along side. The driver wound down the passenger window and the two

occupants just sat staring at the bike making admiring gestures.  I thanked them,

but they just carried on doing it and by now there were at least a dozen cars waiting

patiently behind them.