AZILLE and the Pepieux Gal !




AFTER riding across the entire South of France

(Gee, doesn't that have a Nice ring to it...?)

From Monaco to Nice, Digne les Bains... Arles, Montpelier, Beziers and Olonzac... I found Azille.

Once I'd found this tiny little villaaage tucked into the gently rolling hills between the Mediterranean barely 50K SE from me, and the Mountains? just 10 minutes ride North... I parked my Divvie outside Rue Du Portal Neuf, one of the ancient gates of this once fortified city, My Prexport clad tootsies carried my tired bod to Numero Cat (4), Appropriate as will soon enough become apparent. The street is barely wide enough for a sidecar equipped HD to pass thru, it's shaded from the heat of the Sun by walls of adjoining homes/buildings 3 stories high. At Saskia's place, I was greeted by a jungle of plants outside her door. Her window was open, allowing the late day breeze to cool the interior space. It was quite warm!

"Bonjour... ce va" I hollered thru the open kitchen window... "Bonjour" this distant voice hollered in return. Pepieux Gal appeared like an apparition floating (quickly!) down the stairwell of this near 400 year old residence, that as far as I knew, may well have been haunted. Several hugs and cheek kisses later, this little bundle of energy ushered me into her not so humble abode! She is turning this centuries old townhouse into a modern 3 bedroom 3 bath apartment condo, just in case any of you are looking to re-locate to the south of France, it will be offred for sale upon completion!


A EURO nickel tour later, I was unpacking Piroska and getting settled in for a few needed days off. Yup... Saskia had just what this weary Canadian Biker (potential good name for a Magazine don't you think?!) needed after nearly 2 weeks and 2844kms on the road.

Saskia... you see...has...


C A T S !

Thought I was going to say R n R didn't you? Hahahaha, not on your life.

This CatBoy was sadly and badly in need of some furry feline attention!!!

Einstein (and Willy :) were a lonnnng ways off and Hungarian cats proved to be not so people friendly. Sadie, Bill and wittle Wascawy Wussell would be just the tonic I was looking for. My drug, my pill for the week.

Between the three of them, I had lots of Cat Company during my visit. Sadie and Bill are Calgary transplants, like their Mom, and little Russell was orphaned or abandoned at 2 weeks. Saskia fed him from a bottle and grew him up into, well into a cat that drinks from a dripping tap!!!

He'd hop right on up there while I was having my shower, and just look at you in that forlorn manner cats learn in Meow 101... until I turned the tap onto a steady drip for him to utilize.


I never did figure out if it was for purely pleasure or actual sustenance. No matter, Russell enjoyed it nonetheless.







Sadie was the shy quiet one, until she would flip over and offer her belly for a scratch. My that girl loves having her tummy tickled!

She's a Big girl probably 8 or 10 Kilos.

(yeah sounds lighter doesn't it, maybe we should all measure ourselves this way? The NA obesity problem would disappear overnight. "Yeah weighed maself this mornin'... I was only 122 Kilos...")



Then there's Billy Boy Cat!

When he jumped on my chest unexpectedly at 6 AM that first morning... performing his cat CPR, it felt like I'd been clipped in the gut by a CFL linebacker!

Billy is a heathly catboy!


Yup... for the week I was at PepieuxGals place... I got my CatFX.





AS for the RnR part, HA... Saskia had other plans beginning with a lovely 12 km walk Sunday along a local canal, pleasure boats and all. Long time friend and fellow expat Calgarian, Dave and Lucy,

a "retriever" (throw a stick and I swear she will wear you out) and friend from Calgary, Graham and I, wandered along the shaded cool stillness of a canal whose origins go back into the 18th century as part of a massive plan to connect the Biscaye Atlantic to the Med. After bankrupting (as these projects have a habit of doing) the originator of this scheme... the Son finally completed the project and the family became immensely wealthy.



These days, its a beehive of pleasure boat activity.




Honestly... if I didn't know better, I would have sworn I was in Utrecht, or some other Dutch community.















Here we are... nothing but the sound of birds in the tree canopy over our heads, the occasional bell from a passing cyclist, and the hum of these little waterborne RV's as we wander along from one village to the next.



After having ridden that final 427km from Barreme and those vicious man eating dogs, this was almost surreal to me!







In the next several days we would cover some very interesting and beautiful territory including the incredible little village of Minerve...



Saskia turns out... has a lot of friend's surrounding her.

We had a very pleasurable evening at Gail's place (The CookBook Company in Calgary) drinking far too much wine, which for me, a relative non drinker... left me with a massive uhh... headache the following morning.


Saskia's guy, Rui ? (pr: Rruu ee) and his son Tiago (tee a go) proved to be like finding gold in that stream you've been panning without result for years. We got to be great friends in the short while I was there. He made sure I felt at home and my (wine) glass was never half empty.


I was able to spend a day over at Rui's pad doing some maintenance to Piroska, lubed the chain, replaced the rear brake pads I'd picked up in Grasse a few days before. The new chain that had been installed was causing me some grief. I was unable to track down a persistant 'clicking' sound that I would hear at low speeds. I was certain it was coming from the chain but just could not seem to pinpoint it... little did I know...

While in the mood for bike repair Ha, I can hear my friend's laughing all the way from here... I did some work to Tiago's SuperMoto Derbi 50.


SuperMotard, the grandaddy of the whole SuperMoto

thing originated in France a couple of decades ago.

The style is incredibly popular in Europe. Big singles, twins, triples, fours and even his little tiny LC Spanish Derbi are done up in SM drag. They are like dirt bikes but with street sized rims and sticky tires.



Of course, it's mostly for show like the PD bikes (can a 600 pound BMW 1200 Paris Dakar replica actually be ridden in the wilds of Baja... I wouldn't want to try it) but the craze is insane! From the hills above San Momme, to the mountains curves of Elba and the Cities of Espana... they are everywhere.

Gail's balcony in Olonzac

Along the canal... 12 Km! Yup RnR Saskia style!



The Doctor of N Thusiasm and his pal, the PepieuxGal



Stay in touch... there's more...





Lots more coming up from the South of France...






Feel free to make some comments if you like at the bottom of the Blog... and if you're just tuning in, you can sign up to follow along and get updates as I go. For previous posts, just click on the month/post, and you can get them. And... for those of you that are asking, yes I will try and include as many of the 2000 photos I've taken to date.




Cheers from the Dr.