Having fun reading your post. I haven't ventured outwith the UK as yet, but the more I'm reading about your adventure the more I'm tempted to get the panniers down from the loft and on the bike and just head off. I've been wanting to ride through France for ages so keep the updates coming.

Sat night 6th June.
I walk into hotel reception and ask for a room, "what kind of room?" the receptionist asks in perfect English as she looks at me like im something she picked up on the sole of her shoe.
"A hotel room" I say with a smile, "I believe someones just booked one over the phone for me?" ah yes, room 16 she says and i pay for the room on my credit card, i hate using the card but i want to keep my cash for more important things!
I park my bike directly outside my window and cart all my gear indoors, im determined to sample the French nightlife tonight and i start looking for some clean clothes to put on.
I open my tail pack and remove my stove and other cooking gear and think to myself jokingly "imagine i get so drunk tonight that i come back to my room and start cooking some camping food on my stove"
But surely that could never happen....could it?
Im showered and changed in record time and my first port of call is the hotel bar.
I pull up a stool and order a , oh no its the ice queen from reception, she's a barmaid aswell!
Within 20 mins her mood has completely changed and i have her laughing like a hyena and to be honest she is'nt half pretty when she smiles!
2 hours later i've got her playing traditional Irish music on her laptop and speaking fluent Irish, (all be it filthy swear words)
Shes in great form and im in even better form and its then that i drop the clanger!
"You have a beautifull french accent" i say, "whereabouts in France are you from?"
"Dreseden" she replies, "Germany, im here just for the summer months"
Christ im embarassed, how the f*ck did i mistake a German accent for a French one? I must be pretty drunk allready.
I dont think i could be more ambarassed if i pissed myself in front of her.
Only one thing to do... another frauline sil vous plait.
Beer makes everything seem better.
I finish my drink, mumble something about it being nice to meet her, make my excuses and leave, i've got 2 more bars to visit yet.
I walk/trot/roll down the hill twords Buddy Mulligans and enter to see everyone watching a rugby game between Clermont Ferand and Perpignan (I think), so this is why everyone was waving flags around Clermont today when i stopped for a kebab!
Against all my better judgement I order a pint of Guinness, now, any Irish man will tell you NEVER drink a pint Guinness in anywhere but Ireland and maybe a few places in the UK, its just not the same and a bad pint of Guinness can really mess you up for a couple of days.
I take my first mouthfull and oh my god, I cannot believe how bad this tastes, i look around the bar and everyone is smiling at me and saying stuff like Guinness nice yes? I force myself to swallow it and i really think im going to throw up.
I takes me nearly an hour to finish the pint.
I go next door to Le Shamrock to visit the barman who booked my hotel room and to buy him a drink.
Im only there a few mins when he produces a laptop computer and shows me photos that are strangely familliar.
He tells me he goes to Ireland every year to play golf and to fish, and the pics he's showing me are from a golf course not far from where i grew up and where my parents still live! What a small world we live in!
I spend a few hours here, the barman having a drink everytime i have one and all the locals making me feel as one of their own.
By the end of the night im discussing the finer points of the Toulouse rugby defense with a local who cant speak English, we communicate with wild hand movements.
Its closing time and i wish my new friends good luck and wobble off to my hotel, I've been told theres a fast food outlet called Mick burger just up the street (apt name for an Irish man looking for a late night feed dont you think?) but i cant find it, i search everywhere but no sign of it, were my French friends having a laugh at my expense? possibly.
Im drawn to the sound of laughter and music and i find myself outside another bar, will i have a nightcap, it would be rude not to.
I dont remember much about this bar except for one vivid flashback of me, on the bar gyrating to loud music and a girl has her arms wrapped around my legs and something about a dog on the bar aswell! somethings are best left in the murky depths of memory loss.
I wake the next morning in my hotel room with a stinking hangover, i open one eye and straight away i notice a strange taste on my breath, meatballs! I look around and there on the middle of the floor is my camping stove and empty food packets, looks like i got something to eat last night after all!

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My trip to Millau (France) and back 2009.http://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hub...u-france-43474

Sunday 7th june.
I pack my gear onto my bike and go to reception to check out, the fella on reception asks me if I enjoyed my stay, I tell him I did but that now i feel as sick as a small hospital and that i just need to find a cafe where i can chill out and let my hangover dissapear.
I pull out of the hotel car park and just roll down the street to the town square where i find free motorcycle parking.
I lock the bike up and head across the street to a small cafe with lots of tables and chairs outside on the footpath.
I order a large cofee and a sandwich and I just sit in the sun fermenting for the next hour.
"Excuse me mate are you British?" I hear from behind me, i turn around and there's 3 fella's standing there in bike gear, looking as bad as i feel.
"Nah mate im Irish" i say, "but dont let that stop you from joining me" they laugh and pull up some chairs.
Turns out they've come from Doncaster and have travelled a similiar route to mine, they've also been out last night and are feeling the aftereffects now aswell.
We drink coffee and talk bikes and routes for the next hour, they're a good bunch of fellas and its their first trip abroad too.
Turns out we're all headed to Millau today, but they're travelling a different route to me so we arrange to meet in Millau town centre tonight.
They saddle up and head off and i cross over to my bike and get ready to leave also.
I,d like to have travelled with them and they even asked me to but i declined their offer for 2 reasons, no. 1 i want to ride the Gorge du Tarn into Millau and no.2 is that about 15 years ago I had a really nasty bike crash in which I hit a lorry head on and ended up underneath it, I damaged my spine but luckily was'nt paralised, it took me a while to walk again and i couldnt work for a year.
Now i tend to travel at a sedate pace, 75 to 80 mph on the motorways and slower on the smaller roads, nearly everyone else rides faster than this so i allways feel that im holding people up when i ride with them.
Hence the reason i usually ride alone.
I hop on the bike and im pulling out of the car park when i see, in all its glory.........Mick burger!
My new French friends were'nt having a laugh after all! and its all of 50 yards from the Le Shamrock pub! How did I miss it last night?
I head out of town twords another town called Mende, climing steeply and looking back down the hillside at stunning views of Le Puy en Velay, it really is a nice town and the locals are magic.
The road to Mende is fantastic, stunning views all around and the suns out aswell, lifting my spirits and im smilling so much inside my helmet that my jaw is starting to hurt.
I pass thru Mende and head twords the gorge, the roads are getting smaller now with lots of 1st gear hairpins and steep climbs, the bike is running great and im really gunning up the moutain side, this is it, this is why im here, i havent felt this happy for a long long time. I have had a pretty shit year, family deaths and so on, but this feels like im blowing all that crap away with my throttle and the harder i twist it and the lower i drop the bike into the bend the more all those sad times of the past year just dissapear.
I drop down into the gorge and i cant believe the views, the villages are picture perfect, the river running along on my left and a sheer rock face to my right, twists and turns, steep climbs and steeper drops, and the bike feels like its got a mind of its own! im just along for the ride.
I stop numerous times to take photos and just admire the views, i look at my map and im getting close to Millau.
For 2 years its been a pin in a wall map of France in my bedroom and now im allmost there.
I pass thru another gorgeous town and i must be getting close now.
I round a right hand bend and there in front of me about 6 or 7 miles away is the Millau bridge, i pull over and just sit on my bike and stare at it, i cant believe i've done it! i've got a lump in my throat and i cant stop grinning.
Time to find a campsite, im going to be here for 2 days.

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My trip to Millau (France) and back 2009.http://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hub...u-france-43474

Nice story. I know the feeling when you got the first sight on the Millau bridge. It realy is impressive.

I was there last year. On my website I have a trip report with lots of pictures.
Jan Krijtenburg homepage (Travel pages)

Enjoy your stay there and have a safe ride home.

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Jan Krijtenburg

My bikes are a Honda GoldWing GL1200 and a Harley-Davidson FXD Dyna Super Glide

My personal homepage with trip reports: https://www.krijtenburg.nl/
YouTube channel (that I do together with one of my sons): motormobilist.nl

Sun evening 7th June.
I ride around Millau for a while just taking in the views of the bridge and the town, there's lots of bikes around and numerous small 2 stroke scooters with loud exhausts and some with extended forks!
I locate a campsite on the banks of the river Tarn and pitch my tent, i heat up some food on my stove and have some baguette that i bought fresh earlier in the day.
An ST 1100 pulls in to the site, 2 up with Estonian plates, they pitch up beside me and i give them a spare side stand puck to stop their bike sinking in the soft ground.
I leave all my luggage in the tent and ride into town, the bike feels so light without all the gear!
Im lookling for a good bar where I can have a few drinks tonight with the fella's from Doncaster.
I go into a newsagents to buy some disposable razors as i lost mine a couple of days ago.
I ask the girl behind the counter if she knows of any good bars but she's not from Millau and doesnt know the town that well, just then a local man walks into the shop with a massive dog and an even bigger moustache.
He looks like he's in his mid 40's and is only about 5foot 2, the dog is allmost up to his chest!
The shop keeper asks him in French the whereabouts of a good bar and he reply's instantly "The Rugby bar"
He proceeds to write down directions to the bar and then a young black kid walks in, straight away he gets into the discussion and within a minutes both he and the moustachiode man are insisting on taking me to the bar to have a drink!
I decline the offer because my bike is outside but they insist that my bike will be ok locked up on the footpath for the night!
I pollitely decline their offer and return to the campsite to drop off my bike. I stroll back into town and meet up with the guys from Doncaster, we sit outside the first bar we come to, we drink and have a chat for a couple of hours, the evening is lovely and warm.
The bar owner, a giant of a man from Turkey i think, buys us a couple of s just before last orders, and then ushers us inside for a late drink!
A couple of hours later we leave the bar to go back to out respective campsites, one of the Doncaster fellas is looking twords the sky and swears he's seen a UFO! he's quite freaked out and wont accept any other explanation other than it was a UFO! (Who says French is'nt strong!)
I start to walk away from the bar and turn around to say a final goodbye to the lads from Doncaster when i see the sign over the pub door......Le Rugby bar...!!
I walk back to my campsite, climb into my tent and fall asleep to the sound of the river Tarn flowing gently not 20 feet from my pitch.

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My trip to Millau (France) and back 2009.http://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hub...u-france-43474

Monday 8th June.
"My wife likes a drop of wine" says the owner of the huge motorhome as he opens the door to reveal 200 liters of French wine they have bought on their travels.
The Estonians on the ST 1100 left last night and in their place is an English couple in their mid 70's with a peugeot motorhome, their 3rd since the early 1990's he says.
He calls his wife out to meet me, Im expecting an old toothless wino to come staggering thru the door but instead an elegant and charming lady steps down to introduce herself.
Damn my back is sore, remember that cheap copy of a Thermarest i bought on day one before i left to catch my ferry? well there's a reason its cheap..... it doesnt stay up! as i discovered at about 5am this morning.
I have taken today off, im just going to hang around and relax, do some maintenance on the bike and be a tourist.
I ride to the Millau bridge visitor centre and have my photo taken underneath the giant structure, but no words or photos can do this bridge justice, it simply must be seen to be appreciated.
I spend a couple of hours riding around some small roads with lots of hairpins underneath the bridge and taking photos before heading back into town where i just chill out in the cafe's for a while, drinking coffee and watching the world go by.
I call into the local "Simply" supermarket to buy some French bread and cheese to have with my supper of soup and pasta back at the tent.
After i've had something to eat and showered etc. i stroll into town for my last night in Millau.
That night i discovered that even though Millau is a small town it is packed full of colourfull characters and places...
Like the first bar i called to where i get a front row seat to one of the most spectacular ellectrical storms i have ever seen, lighting up the surounding mountains like daylight and the streets filling with an inch of water within minutes..........Or the bar where i sit and watch an argument between a lesbian(I dont like to stereo type either, but trust me she was a lesbian!) and a crack head, the lesbian eventually won the argument after the crack head passed out and slid off his bar stool.......And then there was the bar where i sat and watched thru the window as 2 hooray Henry's jumped into an immaculate snow white Morris Minor with a red convertible top and speed thru town on the wrong side of the road.........and last but not least there was the bar where a Korean, a Turk, a Portugesse, a Spanish mother and daughter, a fella from Birmingham with no teeth, and i all got drunk on French and tried to solve all the worlds problems, despite the fact that the Brummy and i were the only ones speaking the same language.
At one stage a rumour circulated thru the bar claiming that the Korean man was none other than the infamous Kim Jong Il, on holliday for some much needed rest, it seems he's been under a lot of stress lately, but this was denied by the brummy who claimed that our Korean friend was too short to be Kim.
God tommorrow's going to hurt.

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My trip to Millau (France) and back 2009.http://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hub...u-france-43474