To Marseillette and back

Yesterday was a double changeover day - two sets of guests out and two in. For a change both sets of departing guests were gone by 9.30am and so I had both suites ready for action by the end of the morning.

All very efficient but not a great help in actually saving me time or making my day any easier. Despite my attempts to contact the new guests, their arrival times remained a mystery until late afternoon, which meant that I had no choice than to hang about at or near to home. Inevitably they all turned up and everyone was happy. I thought about going out as there was live music at The Celt but tiredness overtook me and by the time I had spoken with Debrah there was only one further course of action - bed.

I was woken by my alarm at 6.30 but despite that I was surprisingly perky. I got the coffee pot and the washing machine into action and fired up the iron too and before breakfast all was up to date in the relative cool of the morning. Breakfasts were delivered and to say I felt jolly and a bit smug would have an accurate assessment.

Today, after morning chores, I had a free day - no room changes, no guests in or out, no canapés, no cocktails, no dinners, no client responsibilities at all - and that doesn't happen very often and certainly not during maxed-out June 2009. Today was an oasis of me-time in a desert of servitude.

The dawn had heralded the clear skies of previous days and the promise of the same burning heat - but it was a false dawn. Just after delivering the last breakfast I was stood in the kitchen contemplating a plan of action for the day (cycling, swimming, driving,?) when a sudden strong gust of wind blew through the kitchen and grabbed my attention.

It was a proper gust of wind, as in a change in the weather type gust of wind and within half an hour there was the most almighty thunderstorm raging overhead with torrential rain, impressive lightning and instantaneous deafening thunder. Typical, I thought, when I'm cleaning toilets it's 35 degrees and when I'm planning a day out it's raining.

One of my options for today had been to try and find the cycle route that supposedly exists between La Cité and the abbey at St Hilaire. The tourist office only had cycle paths for the Canal du Midi (which are so damn obvious you don't need a map), there was nothing in any of the guide books or bookshops or on any of the websites I found that listed local cycle routes. I know it exists so I'll just have to keep looking until I find it.

By now the rain had passed and a cooler cloudier day than yesterday was actually perfect for cycling so I set off down the Canal towards Trebes. When I got there I still felt good so I carried on into territory I had never covered before and after 90 minutes I had reached the village of Marseillette. Marseillette was closed, as most French villages are at 1.30pm so I started the ride back and immediately realised there was a very strong headwind in my face.

By definition there are very few hills or slopes on a canal path, just the odd one by a bridge or a lock - so there is very little opportunity to freewheel and take a rest - you have to keep pedalling or you just stop and fall over, especially into the wind.

By the time I reached Trebes again I was parched and needed a drink. Fortunately Trebes wasn't closed partly because there is a small port there which has bars and cafes catering to it. A large glass of water and small beer hardly touched the sides but did the job.

The last 11kms back to Carcassonne were just a case of getting into a steady rythym and keeping going. Three and half hours in total and about 45kms - probably the longest ride I have ever done. My legs felt a bit heavy but not overly so and a few hours later I was still feeling a bit buzzy from the whole trip, which I guess is a good thing. we will see how my legs feel in the morning.