Packing the house the week before we boarded the ferry it was hard to imagine being cold as we crammed the last box into the car in the warm spring weather. Though, as the day of departure drew nearer, Heather kept checking the weather forecast (some things never change) as it steadily worsened. Our excitement was impossible to dampen, however as we rolled our bikes off the ferry in Cherbourg, we were given a proper French welcome of biting wind and light rain. As we passed through the immigration booth, the security officer looked at us in amusement as he told us many times "trop pluie!" - wonderful but what could we do? Plus Barney continued to maintain that the entire year would be perfect weather!!

As you can expect with any statement Barney makes, within 5 minutes it was very "trop pluie" with hail added to the mix and then even some snow. Wrapping ourselves in full waterproofs it just seemed to add to the excitement as we rolled along the peninsula. The strong winds over the next couple of days gave us more trouble cycling than any of the snow, rain and hail. We felt we experienced all the forms of weather within the first 24 hours! You would probably expect that sitting on a heavy bike would mean you aren't as easily pushed by the wind, however when it takes hold of you there is so much more fight required to not completely topple over. Heather found this out the hard way early, as, on the top of a cliff, she suddenly shot across the path sideways, managing to wrestle her bike under control, and saving herself from crashing in to Barney.

On the whole, Normandy was very quiet, which was lovely on the roads and bike paths but felt strange, almost eerie. It became very apparent how much Normandy is a summer destination with all the shuttered up houses. It also didn't help that most nights were going down to about 1 degree. The less people made contemplation easier, staring across the expanses of beach and finding relics of the war at every turn. You find a hugely powerful mental and emotional connection with the place, with so many preserved sites and large expanses that truly put into perspective the events that unfolded over 75 years ago.

We had set ourselves a big target of soaking in all of the sites AND getting to Paris in 6 days, after all it was only a distance of just over 300 miles. That would only require 50 miles per day! Easy, Heather thought as they completed 53 miles in the first day through hilly terrain and challenging weather conditions. Even with a few treats of a couple of nights in AirBnBs and evening meals with good wine, it looked achievable. However, what Heather hadn't accounted for was Barney's apparent desire to see every museum and historical site in Normandy! Highlights of traversing the D-Day beaches, often included wildcamping short distances from the German defences and Allied assault directions. Also involved seeing German artillery batteries and underground networks, numerous Allied and Axis war memorials, short detours to the Bayeux Tapestry and Caen Memorial Museum and Pegasus Bridge which also included a guided tour, Heather quickly had to face facts... Was Barney spending all these hours in the memorial to get out of cycling?! In the end a decision had to be made, after over 210 miles of cycling, to arrive into Paris on 5 Apr they would have to either cycle a 130 mile day, or get the train. Again Barney was fairly set on his preferred option... The train it was!

Looking back on Normandy it offers huge contrasts, the mixed weather set against the rugged and beautiful countryside, which offers up a stark reminder of the efforts of the WWII Allied Invasion to liberate France and then Europe, against a more modern image of seaside towns that mostly rely on tourism and summer homes, adding to the eerie nature of it all. I'm certain that in the summer it would be a hive of activity, however maybe more of the atmosphere would be lost.

After all that, the train was boarded (please feel free to ask us about the mammoth effort to get 2 bikes fully laden with 8 panniers and two rucksacks onto a train with only enough space for one comfortably) and we were bound for Paris.