Which is the right road?

Standing between me and Nice, my next destination was a collection of mountains called the Massif de l'Esterel. There is a road that follows the coast around the mountains, but my cycle map and Google Maps didn’t offer that option. They said to go up and over the mountain, with a total climb of more than 1,400 feet. Okay, let’s go.

A few kilometres on, my GPS unit was telling me to do a U-turn, but Google Maps said to keep going. It was like two backseat drivers telling you to go in opposite directions. I usually trust my GPS unit, but it was showing a route that meant backtracking. I carried on with The Google leading the way.

After about 10 kilometres, The Google directed me off the road and to a path that didn’t seem to exist. I stared at my devices for some time trying to figure it out, while wondering why I didn’t take the coast road.

I asked someone if they spoke English. They didn’t  

I decided to walk my bike up a small path, where I saw someone go with their dog. On my phone, I could see I was moving in the right direction. I negotiated a rocky trail, and my GPS unit was beeping like it had picked up the route., But it took me down and then up a trail that wasn’t fit for a bike, especially one with about 30 pounds on the back.

In to the unknown…well, I know it now and this path is not suitable for a bike.

I hefted Marcus up a narrow path crowded with bushes and large tree roots. He was probably wondering where I was taking him. I wasn’t sure.

I came to a flat area and gathered my breath. I looked around and saw several trails branch off. There were no signs. Aside from my two conflicting devices, I was traveling blindly. All I knew was that I had to climb higher.

I saw some mountain bikers, but none spoke English.

I continued up a path, until it spat me out on a dirt road. I turned left, the general direction I was supposed to go. I passed a handful of mountain bikers and hikers. Then, the road split off. I saw a guy walking toward me.

“Est ce que tu parle Anglais?”

Do you speak English? I asked him.

“Un peu,” A little, he said.

I told him I was going to Nice, but I wasn’t sure which road to take.  

“It's a long way. Follow this road and then you will see the sea. Le mer. I think it is easy, the other way has cars.”

Well, it didn’t seem so easy. I set off along the road he told me to take. It went down and then back up. I realized I was alone, looking out across the mountain wilderness. The views were great, but I already had the newspaper headline written: Idiot from Canada gets lost on mountain in southern France, says he was just following Google maps.

Then, as if entering another world, I came to a residential area with palatial homes set behind large walls and gates. It was as if I’d just been dropped into Beverly Hills.

I followed a long road, with a separate bike lane. The riding was easy, as I coasted down. At the bottom of the hill, The Google was telling me to turn left, where there was a sign that read: Massif de l'Esterel. I stared at my maps for some time and then two cyclists came up to me. I told them I was going to Nice.

One of them looked at my bike and said taking the mountain path wouldn't be good without gravel tires. 

“You should take the coast road. It has beautiful views,” he said. “Follow us, we'll show you.”  

Riding along next to me, he asked where I was going after Nice.

“Italy,” I said.

Be careful there,” he told me, and then made a gesture with his hand, which I interpreted to mean the drivers in Italy are terrible.

When we reached the coast, they pointed to the left.

“Bon vacance,” he yelled out, as they turned right.  

Dozens and dozens of other cyclists were on this two-lane road that hugged the coast.

We're with our people Marcus. Even if some of those people whizzed by us on $15,000 bikes, and thinking they still had a chance at the Tour de France.  

 I imagined Marcus asking why we don't go that fast.

Don't worry how fast (or slow) were going Marcus. Just look at the scenery.

We came around a corner and there were magnificent mountain peaks coloured red and laced with green trees. Further on, we came around another corner, and I said out loud: Wow. Wow. Wow.

Deep blue ocean in front of us. And in the distance, Cannes, and surrounding communities, stretching along the coast, backdropped by the Alps covered in snow. Stunning.

Cannes in the distance, backdropped by the Alps

As we neared our hotel in Nice, I was making good speed on a bike path next to the turquoise-hued ocean. Okay, Marcus. Let’s see what we’ve got. I put the bike in top gear and got into a good pedaling rhythm. I looked at my speed and we were cruising along at 35km/hour. It might not have started well, but the end to my day was fantastic, as I thought about how fortunate I was to be zipping along on my bike next to the Mediterranean.