skip to main content

Day 5: 127km from Aix-En-Provence to St. Maxime

Shay Byrne is almost there! Read about day 5 of 6 of Shay Byrne's Paris to Nice cycle in aid of the Irish Youth Foundation.
Shay Byrne is almost there! Read about day 5 of 6 of Shay Byrne's Paris to Nice cycle in aid of the Irish Youth Foundation.

As we leave the town of Aix, you can't but be reminded of Paul Cezanne as the local landmark of Mont Sainte-Victoire looms in the distance. The artist painted many variations of this theme and who could blame him for staying put here. I wish I could. But we pedal on regardless.

Mont Sainte-Victoire, Paul Cézanne

We’re into a hill climb almost immediately from the time we leave the town. Aching limbs and aching elsewhere makes it very uncomfortable. At the top, we take time to do a group photo of all the Irish Youth Foundation team. Our team leader and CEO of IYF let's us know later that evening that the money raised - now well over 50k - will go towards two specific projects - buying a bus for an Inchicore youth project and also towards homeless projects for young people. These are the constant reminders we need to keep us on what now feels like a serrated saddle.

Team IYF

Now time to descend. When you are overweight and unfit pedalling up a mountain is torture. I'm now averaging 5kms per hour in 30 degrees Celsius. The thing that gets me to the top is the thought of a fast descent with the wind cooling me down. Tom and Darragh are just ahead on the tandem. It's heavy so picks up speed quickly and is soon travelling over 50kms per hour.

Suddenly to the left there is the crack of a rifle and a badly wounded wild boar careers across the road only avoiding disaster because of Tom's quick manoeuvring.

I hit the brakes and let out a shout from sheer fright as the bike travels over a trail of the unfortunate animal's blood. The hunters remain oblivious in the scrub below and we pedal on. This is certainly wild country. I don't remember Cezanne painting anything like that!

The owner sold more coffee in 10 minutes than the entire week.

After a short coffee pit stop and some tasteless wild boar jokes, I decide to take the initiative and let loose a bit at the front. I charge off, wind at my heels. I set the pace and am energised by how quickly I leave the group behind. I'm so far ahead of the pack I can't see them anymore. Maybe, I'm becoming a natural? Perhaps, the Tour de France is a real option? It's after about 3km of downhill that I get the call from our leader, Clare, that I'm told I've taken a wrong turn. ‘Oh dear’ I exclaimed. Or something similar. 3kms back up the hill. Many ‘oh dears’ followed.

Alone on the mountain with a rainbow.

The climb this morning took us higher then I thought because much of the day is now a welcome downhill spin to where we have lunch in an idyllic forest park next to an old abbey called L’Abbaye du Thoronet, situated between the towns of Draguignan and Brignoles. You can quickly see why the Cistercians chose such a location - there is an overwhelming sense of peace and contemplation as we sit for lunch. None of the usual hustle and bustle, everyone seems lost in their own thoughts. It might be just tiredness or a sense that the journey is soon to be over.

The Abbey

The downhill spin continues for a while before we climb towards the Mediterranean. Part of our group decide to do a peloton (from the French meaning platoon’) with our main guide, John. This is a cycling formation probably recognisable to most people from the Tours de France. Riders cycle in tight formation at speed, rotating every few minutes. The collective energy powers the whole group along. They arrive at Sainte Maxime, our final destination, an hour before me. They later tell me it was invigorating. I'll take their word for it.

For me the first glimpse of the Mediterranean happens much later as I freewheel into the port town of Saint Maxime. It reminds me of the fictional town in ‘Dirty Rotten Scoundrels’ with Steve Martin and Michael Caine. You can’t hear yourself think for the roaring Porsche and Ferrari engines. Very similar to my Hyundai at home.

The rain has held off thankfully and the cool sea breeze on my face is very welcome. It's an emotional sight when you see the Riviera for the first time, knowing that you've cycled effectively from the English Channel to the Mediterranean in five days flat.

Tonight we’re freed from the regime of group hotel dinners. John our tour operator tells us it's a free night and we can make our choice for dinner. I prefer to call it the ‘not included in your package night’.

But everyone embraces the opportunity of wandering through a myriad of pedestrian streets teeming with wonderful French restaurants. We choose a cheap one by the sea and revel in the choice of a menu. Main course and a drink 60€. Welcome to the Cote D’azur.  Back to our shabby chic hotel then, where to get to room 36 you have to go through a small door at the back of the restaurant and up two flights of windy stairs.

My catering size tub of Sudocrem and a softish bed awaits.

Saint Maxime

If you’d like to cycle Paris to Nice for your charity, contact Paris2Nice

Read Next