There is little advice on cycle touring rest days. One source I've read says one day off per week then another suggests no rest days but recommends short or easy days to keep everything moving and supple. Whichever approach you adopt you need to manage your overall levels of fatigue otherwise it ceases to be fun. Sometimes that can be achieved with a low gear supplemented with slow cadence and more coffee stops though sometimes you just need a day off or a few short days. I have chosen post-Ventoux as my only actual full rest day and to be honest my planning strategy was more about having two opportunities to tackle Ventoux if the weather was bad. In the end even though Ventoux didn't wreck my legs the combination of two long days followed by Ventoux did make me very tired. Sometimes you need a rest day just to get caught up. I encountered a goat on the road a while back. It stank and I had the stench of the beast in my nostrils 500 meters down the road. My point here is that after three weeks with minimal hand washing I realise my clothes aren't much better than the goat so a full laundry day is in order.
My Ventoux time and rest day is spent over a shop in the centre of Sault and the hosts are very friendly and extremely accommodating. So friendly that last night my host came and took all my three-weeks-in-the-saddle cycling wear to put in the washing machine which I feel is above and beyond the call of duty. I hope she returns them.
The guest information sheet in the room had contact details for a bike shop, a massage therapist and an osteopath. They are clearly used to catering for cyclists. Like so much in the English language the words for he or she who practices massage comes from French; masseur and masseuse though the term massage therapist tends to he used these days to avoid any - errrrm - misunderstandings.
When I arrived and pointed to the bike there was a barely suppressed sigh that said "Oh yes the inevitable bike storage need". I quite enjoyed wheeling it in and out of their painter's studio and gallery.
Many of the shop fronts reflect the local lavender landscape.
My first job today was a better view of Ventoux which is a sixteen mile bike ride from Sault and though by eye I got an excellent view of the glistening white limestone summit lit by the rising sun it still didn't transfer well to photo and maybe its this otherworldly aspect that is part of the draw for people.
Mont Ventoux is all about pain and obviously most of that is physical though some could be said to be psychological or emotional. Certainly you need the right mental attitude to succeed on Ventoux. We all tend to handle our physical pain in some way. We know when we're experiencing it and we definitely know how to tell people about it; usually needling for some sympathy and often with a sense of pride as physical pain endured in sporting endeavour is after all a 'good thing'. However, I always find it disappointing that people in general don't feel able to share their emotional pain in the same way as they do their physical pain or that we feel ill prepared to listen to or to be receptive to other people's emotional pain. In the end if we don't share our pain then we are alone with that pain and destined to be without hope. Sorry I am just trying to put a reference to hope in the text.
I had hoped to see the Tom Simpson memorial which is 1 km from the top of Ventoux but with my head focused on the job at hand I forgot to look out for it on the way up and down. Also, on looking at postcards in Sault I see there is some monument at the top of Ventoux which I also missed.
My second job on my rest day is to dry the tent that has been sat oozing in my pannier from the wet mosquito ridden campsite near Chateauneuf-du-Pape; such a glamourous and iconic place and I had a miserable time of it. I dry the tent on some sun drenched hand rails by the main car park and as such I get to watch the comings and goings of the lycra clad who mostly have cars. I shouldn't critique those who wear lycra as my own non-lycra but cycle-specific shorts were uncomfortable on the Ventoux and my layering of t-shirts on Ventoux made me hot and sweaty going up and cold and damp on the way down.
Three on the list was to try and portray the lavender as I am in Provence after all and Sault is the founding father of lavender in Provence. Sault itself sits on a rocky outcrop above a valley which is home to lavender fields not yet in bloom though the air in Sault is rich with the scent.
Number four I work out my food plan for the day, a Provençal lunch and a 6pm pizza van dinner after having a restful afternoon out of the sun working on number five which is reviewing Komoot routes and France En Velo tips for the rest of the journey along with the sterilisation of my bidons. That us nothing sinister I just out boiling water in my water bottles to kill any nasties. The Provençal menu throws up the point that the French for brain looks similar to prawn (crevette) on a chalk board to the casual eye. Luckily the waitress clarifies before confirming the order so I am not bemused when the lamb's brain arrives. I thought it would be lost in a tomato sauce but it arrives in a hot dish lightly sauted in butter, garlic, herbs and a hit of sea salt. The saving grace is that it is portioned into small bites. Think snails in garlic butter but with a soft texture like sweetbreads. I would order them again.
Sault old town.
Standard advice is to avoid taking photos into the sun but this crudely captures the brilliance of Provençal sunshine and the white heat that radiates from it.
I enjoyed my day off though I wasn't going to miss another highlight. Though Montélimar is the nougat capital of France and is 50 miles north west of where I am, Sault and its tourist shops sell this.
