Day 7: Delirious Descending

It was with a mixture of sadness and blessed relief that we packed the bikes this morning. Our final day would take us to Nice over the Cols of Braus and Saint Pancrace before swooping down to meet the sea. 

The weather, true to form, was hot and sunny - even at 9am. We found a shady spot and devoured our newly christened “breakfast of champions” - 2 croissants and a coffee. 

Once done, we did a final bit of faffing before heading down into Sospel to start the climb up the Col de Brauss. The climb itself passed relatively easily: 11km at an average of 6% was a pleasant change from some of the beasts we’d tackled in the previous few days. 

The top of the climb was fairly bleak so we quickly pointed our bikes downhill towards L’Escarene, 10km of downhill delight losing 640 metres through no less than 17 hairpin bends. 

At L’Escarene we found a cafe who’s owners made such a fantastic job of ignoring us that we headed to the spar shop and enjoyed a brunch of coke, a muffin and a banana on a bench overlooking the old town. 

We headed off, in completely the wrong direction, before turning around and heading off down the valley, following the beautiful Paillon river through a rocky gorge. Stunning. 

Eventually we reached the bottom of the Col de Saint Pancrace; 8.5km of hot 6% tarmac. Once again I’d run completely dry of water; having drink 4 litres since starting out. 

Near the top of the climb was a convalescence home of some sort, and I wandered in with the vain hope of managing to find a tap. Even better than that, I was pointed in the direction of a drinking fountain, which churned out chilled water. I drank 500ml straight away and refilled both bidons. They would only last me another 20km. 

Near the top of the climb, we’d had our first glimpse of the sea. As we descended the Col which was now the Col de Madone, the sea came properly into view. The road kept descending as we skirted over the top of Monaco and admired all the yaughts in the harbour & out at sea. 

The route followed a series of balconied roads which were cut into the rocks high above Nice. We whizzed along them, through tunnels; so short, some not so short. 

There was one last surprise in store - a very cheeky 2km climb up the Col de Villefranche which we despatched in reasonably short order before racing down into Nice. 

Riding through Nice was a procession along the Promenade d’Anglais. They’d stuck a cycle track along it since my last visit and a jolly good one it was too. We cruised the 6km Promenade to our hotel and celebrated our achievement with a beer, followed not long afterwards by a long shower. 

I’m not sure what I’d expected from the Turin - Nice Rally. It was much tougher than I’d imagined, and some of the gravel sections were both remote and difficult in equal measure. I’d come here in part to get lost in the Alps, and I certainly achieved that. I’d seen parts of the Alps that I suspect very few people have seen, and met some interesting people along the way. Drew made for an excellent riding partner and I was grateful for his company, particularly when the going got tough. 

Would I go again? Yes, in a heartbeat. But next time I’d pack lighter….