I spent the past week cycling through the tiny villages of Provence with a group from central Norway, brought together by their local newspaper: Stjordalens Blad.
"Long Live Norway", written on a tiny road in the heart of the Provençal countryside -- and even chanted by Michel -- to the joy and surprise of the group.
Nearing the end of the first ride we arrived in the village of Fontaine de Vaucluse, the source of the Sorgue River. The waters exit the source at a constant 12°C all year. As a joke I offered a beer to the first person to jump into the waters, and they all started hopping in...
Along the quiet streets outside the village of Pernes les Fontaines:
Philippe worked the support vehicle all week long, taking care of the picnics and flat tires:
Terje outside our hotel in Isle sur la Sorgue, convinced he'll blend into French culture...
The Norwegians can't be slowed down. On their "day off" a group decided to climb to the summit of Mont Ventoux, arguably France's most difficult climb by bike:
A view of the hairpin turns leading to the summit:
But we enjoyed the plains as much as the mountains, cycling along orchards and vineyards and from village to village:
The group was accompanied by Svein Erik Vold, a professional cyclist from Norway, having finished his grueling season. He was kind and helpful all week, and we all hope to see him one day on the roads of the Tour de France.
Margit outside our winetasting cellar in St. Rémy, still managing to smile after a 2km climb up a rocky road. I had actually wanted to book a winetasting elsewhere, but I managed to mix up the estate names, and had to drag the group up a fairly arduous detour, unplanned. I was furious with myself, but the group accepted the mistake as more of a challenge, always keeping their good humour, and never once -- not any of the 24 of them -- making me feel bad about the error. It's a testament to the kindness and good nature of the group and of the Norwegian people in general.
Visiting the village of Les Baux de Provence:
Proudly displaying a Ventoux jersey after having been at the summit:
Ella enjoying the Provençal sun in a café in the town of Graveson, just south of Avignon.
And here she is again later that day with a helmetful of thyme and rosemary picked on the hills of the Montagnette.
Here's Sonja atop the montagnette and blasted by the Mistral winds.
Halvard and Anne-Brith atop the Montagnette. If you position yourself just right to take the picture, with the cathedral behind the subjects, you can get a devilish result:
After our ride around St. Rémy, and before reaching our hotel, half the group spontaneously stopped for a beer (well, you can't really qualify Norwegians stopping for a beer as "spontaneous", it's quite planned really...)
I'd like to thank each one of the group for such a wonderful time. It was an unforgettable experience for me. If only the Norwegians could export more of their joie de vivre...
Rendezvous next year in Norway for a reunion?
