Today was my final day in France with my parents. It was sad reaching the end of the holiday but I’m glad I experienced bike packing for the first time.

We rose early for an 8:20am departure from Saumur and I headed for Tours alone and then onto the Eurostar.

It was quite strange returning to France last week, as I had been living there over the winter, so I wasn’t sure if it would feel like an exciting place anymore.

However, the Loire valley is very different to the South East of France. It feels closed off in its own medieval universe of chateaux, wine festivals and caves. (We also found a lot of chateaux bore the name ‘clos’ which means closed-off, we think).

Another challenge was carrying a panier and hiring a bike. My boss lent me his panier which I stuffed with a very limited selection of clothes and lugged across Paris. In Saumur, I brushed up on my vocabulary (a panier = une sacoche) and tried the only small bike left in the shop. It was a step-through Giant, quite heavy but efficient. I knew not to complain when Dad was carrying two heavy paniers, but initially I found it a tricky adaptation.

Cycling along the Loire Valley was the perfect way to unwind and destress after a busy few months in London. As you cycle along your mind is engaged by the vineyards, other cyclists, staying on the right side of the road, and I quickly felt myself relaxing into the holiday.

I had my usual battles with French people. Often they recognise I’m English and try to speak to me in my native tongue. I stubbornly respond in broken French and they continue in faulty English. Neither one will give way. Mostly it’s good practice anyway, but I got cross at one shopkeeper who belligerently addressed me in English in an attempt to sell me circus tickets. On the whole, however, the French are very charming and they have a good sense of humour.

Some of the best memories I have of the last week are of small triumphs we had in trying situations. We arrived at the Air BnB in Villandry very hungry on Wednesday night. With no Carrefour local for miles and no car to cover the distance, Dad and I had to raid a tiny village over the hill for milk, bread and cheese. Surprisingly Boulangeries stock milk!

Perhaps my favourite place we visited was L’Atelier, a little bar in Amboise that had multicoloured chairs, cheerful and quirky French staff who spoke English with cockney accents, and a close up view of the chateau. Mum and I also had fun trying Pastis for the first time.

My Eurostar train is approaching le tunnel so I will sign off. I hope more cycling adventures are to come!