***** 'When it's funny it's laugh-out-loud funny, and when it's sad it is heart-breaking.' UK Amazon Reader
***** 'This book manages to combine history, humor & the best of travel writing all in one.' US Amazon Reader
*****'There are a handful of authors who achieve that elusive trick of making you laugh out loud. For me it’s James Herriot, Bill Bryson and Susie Kelly.' FrenchEntree Magazine
*****'This author is becoming a fast friend to take to bed with me - Kindle & a glass of red and Susie Kelly - there is little to better it in the travel writing arena.' – Goodreads
***** 'A wonderful combination of travel memoir: funny anecdotes with the added bonus of weaving throughout an easily-digestible history lesson.' Goodreads
Following the route taken by Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette on their escape from the French Revolution and their journey back to their executions, Susie and Terry cycle over 500 miles in 3 weeks. They dine sometimes in luxury, but often on weird makeshift meals in their tent. Along the way there are traumas, epiphanies, occasional matrimonial disagreements and the odd glass of champagne.
A hair-raising journey through Paris nearly ends in her own execution by traffic. But Susie wobbles on - from Marie Antoinette's palace at Versailles to the vineyards and champagne cellars of Epernay and Reims, through to the Marne valley, the scene of horror and devastation during World War 1.
*****'This was a trip I enjoyed taking through Susie Kelly’s eyes, both for what I learned about the area of France she traveled, and the history involved. My backside and the muscles in my legs were much happier doing it this way, too.' Big Al’s Books & Pals
“Get a bicycle. You will not regret it if you live.” Mark Twain
IT is 3.00pm in a small back road in Versailles. I am straddling my bicycle, cold, frightened and growing wetter by the minute, courtesy of a delicate but determined drizzle. Our waterproof clothing is carefully rolled and stowed at the bottom of our luggage, because when we packed our panniers this morning the clear blue skies had given no indication that they would only be of a very temporary nature. We are setting off to cycle first to Paris, and then half-way across France. An undertaking for which I recognise only now, at this very late stage, I am totally unprepared mentally, and unsuited physically. I am angry with myself for agreeing to it in the first place, and even angrier for feeling so feeble about it now. I open my mouth to call out to Terry, a few yards ahead of me, to say I’ve changed my mind about this venture. Just as I do so he slings his leg effortlessly over his bike, waves his arm above his head and bellows over his shoulder “Forward ho!” I am reminded of John Wayne saddling up and moving out a wagon train. He shoots away like a rocket as I screech at his receding back; but he’s already vanished around the corner.
Quickly checking that the baking tray behind my saddle is firmly secured, I hesitantly launch away from the pavement. The bike wobbles and whirrs forward, down to the junction with the main road, which is teeming with traffic. Our three months of training for this expedition have been on quiet country lanes where we count the traffic as heavy if more than four vehicles pass in an hour.
By now a hundred yards ahead, Terry has stopped and is looking back. Taking one hand from the handlebars, and nearly falling off as a result, I raise my arm authoritatively, to signal that he must stay just where he is, not move another inch. Misinterpreting my message, he understands that all is well....
