From Nevers to Roanne

by Daniel Heesch

When I left the restaurant in Nevers it was still brimming with customers even though it was already approaching 11pm. The first night was awaiting me. Virtually everyone with whom I discussed my plans for the night, responded cautiously. The road ahead between Nevers and Digoin was notorious for its late night traffic with people returning from Nevers to their home towns in the countryside. My companions drew particular attention to the fact that the blood alcohol limit in France was still at 0.5 promille. "Très imprudent, jeune homme!"

The truth proved to be not quite as bad. Equipped with light and substantial doses of caffeine, the 34 kilometers to the next village were cycled swiftly and without any unpleasant incidences with cars tending to keep to their sides of the road. We are now no longer on the N7 but on the N81 towards Decise. The N7 takes a different, more southernly route to Roanne. It is approximately of the same distance as the one I took but since this is a night ride, I prefer the quieter N81. The thirty odd kilometers from Nevers to Decise are rolling hills and can be rather strenuous without at least some repose at Nevers. On a subsequent ride, I took the D13 on the South side of the Loire (as shown on the map), which struck is slightly less hilly and just as scenic (during the day anyway).

After Decise, the road continues to follow the Loire, but always at a respectable distance and the roads are straight for kilometers on end. Were it day-time, one would have been able to see very far indeed - but at night, it is all the more spectacular: every so often, what you see is a distant, glimmering light shining from afar, a star if it weren't below the horizon. It does not move left nor right but grows progressively larger and more brilliant and at some point divides into two. All this happens in complete silence. It takes a long time until you hear the car and much longer still until it finally reaches you. Once past 2am, the traffic had slowed to four or five cars every hour. Nocturnal rides are lonely rides.

There is yet another type of light, this one brightly flashing and stationary on the side of the road. You can see it a long time before you reach it and it becomes painfully bright once close making it difficult to see the road ahead of you. It turns out that these lights are always in conjunction with zebra-crossings and warn drivers from afar. On the left of the road runs a railway track for a good many kilometers but at this time of the night it's only freight trains carrying their heavy cargo south.

Don't expect to find any open shops as you inch your way through the night. The few towns that lie on your route are not exactly large (and even if they were, it's past midnight!). Definitely fill your bags in Nevers or Decize. It's quite s stretch to Digoin and whilst the earlier kilometers are pretty flat, it gets increasingy hilly as you get closer with a seemingly endless succession of rapid descents and extended, sometimes steep climbs.

There is a high incidence of thunderstorms in this region of France. We are about halfway between the Atlantic coast in the North and West and the Mediterranean in the South, so the climate is very continental with hot summers and cold winters. Past Decize I begin to see at great distance, probably another 50 kilometers, the firmament brightly illuminated by extensive lightning. The distance is too great to hear anything so that my first thought was, quite naively, that I was one of the few fortunate people to see the Aurea Borealis - more commonly seen North of the polar circle - reaching down all the way to France. Not quite so. I was heading right into the centre of what was a pretty grown-up thunderstorm.

By the time I reached the area, however, the storm had gone. Only traces of it were left. The street was wet and the air moist. It must have been a massive downpour and I considered myself rather lucky.

It is not unusual, however, for big thunderstorms to breed offspring. Because the ground is still warm from a long summer day, much of the precipitation from the first thunderstorm quickly evaporates and nourishes a second, or at least it gives rise to what metereologists affectionately call an aftershower.


That was indeed what happened just as I entered Digoin 100 kilometers after my dinner in Nevers. The shower was mild but enough for me to look for temporary shelter which I found outside the side entrance of the local church. Once I had climbed off the bike and nestled comfortably in a quiet corner leaning against the church door, I felt very much like sleeping. Not long I listened to the sound of rain before I enslumbered.

An hour or two must have passed by the time I woke up. It was certainly still dark but the rain had gone. I was longing for something to eat and a hot coffee and I was placing all my hopes on Marcigny, the next city at 25 kilometers. In Digoin for sure everything was fast asleep. This was ashame as I found out on another such trip that Digoin is a pretty place with excellent chausson aux pommes (pastry with apple compot filling).

On the way to Marcigny, the most marvellous of all things happened: another day dawned! Colours were creeping back into the world as it was gradually awakening from its slumber. This transition from night to day is often what I long for most on such rides. With the prospect of a new day ahead, and the knowledge of having made it through the night, the early morning hours are often the happiest.

By the time I reached Marcigny, it would be an exaggeration to say that the new day was well under way. It was approaching 7am and the local patisserie was only about to open. The smell of fresh bread and pastry filled the streets as the village was gradually preparing for another day. I had to wait for twenty seemingly endless minutes sitting on the sideway for the patisserie to finally open. Loaded with a few pains aux chocolat I continued towards Roanne, the second day had now properly begun.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a clear morning. The air was still humid from the night's rainfall and the horizon was all haziness. Contrary to what I had expected, it was fairly chilly and continued to be so for much of the rest of the day.

The road towards Digoin runs a few meters above the wide Loire valley and affords beautiful views over the valley with its lush meadows and massive white cows grazing in the trees' shade. That's on a sunny day, when the view extends all the way to the beginning of the Massif Central in the direction of Clermond-Veront. Later, between Marcigny and Roanne, the road has ceased to follow the Loire and becomes for many kilometers dead-straight, with only very few small hills, and no notable distractions.

Shortly before arriving in Roanne at KM 403, you will once more cross the Loire, the third time since Cosne-Cour-sur-Loire. At Roanne the Loire is not quite the same stream you met at the end of the first stage. We have moved back in time: the Loire here has only just matured beyond its wild adolescence, a mere 200 kilometers from here to its birthplace in the Massif Central.