Day 7 – Tuesday 5 August

Le Quesnoy to Bethune

Actual Hotel

Hôtel CERISE Béthune (http://www.cerise-hotels-resorts.com/)

Possible Campsite

Le Camping Municipal du Brûle (http://www.mairie-lillers.fr/?page=tourisme)

Notes

I awoke to a clear blue sky with a large tree dropping a shadow across my tent. I walked over to a terrace outside a recreation room that was in the sun. I wiped the dew off a plastic chair and sat down to my breakfast of bread, cheese and a banana. The tent was still wet with dew and condensation by the time I had to pack it up. I tried to retrace my way out of the town but got tangled up in the one way system again. Even a chap I stopped and asked for directions couldn’t help. It was as though he was saying, “I wouldn’t start from here”.

From Quesnoy I worked my way by map back via quiet lanes to my planned route at Bouchain where the route got a lot busier. I was now in the more densely populated region of north east France and I hadn’t tried to avoid the main connurbations of Douai and Lens. It would have been possible to route myself away from the main built-up areas either to the north or the south but I was probably being lazy. The straight road in the right direction seemed OK from the map but on the ground it was truly awful cycling. There was a cycle path to the side of the suburban road but it led down shared pavements with all sorts of surface irregularities, obstructions, parked cars and temporary ejections onto the road.

Finding lunch was surprisingly difficult as one doesn’t find quaint restaurants in the suburb of Sallaumines. There were a number of fast food outlets and I ended up in a Kebab shop eating something unidentifiable out of soggy pitta bread. After Loos I had found a way of bypassing the main D943 and set off down a farm track from Loos-en-Gohelle that deteriorated into a mass of brick ends that the farmer must have dumped so that he could get his tractor through the mud. By bicycle it was impassible so I went back to the main road

I got to Beuvry knowing that the campsite I had found on the internet may not have been there, and I was preparing to cycle onto an alternative that was a better bet when I saw a sign for a motel. Unfortunately it was down a dual carriageway so I set off keeping close to the edge. I saw the hotel on a side road and thought I would be able to get to it at the next roundabout. A kilometer later there was no exit leading back to the hotel so I went all the way round and backtracked to the first roundabout where I followed my nose into a commercial park with offices, car repair garages and small factories. I found my way through to a pleasantly clean, if plastic, motel where I booked in. I was able to store my bicycle in a lobby behind reception along with the receptionist’s own machine, with the promise that I would remove it before nine o’clock the following morning. I went to bed with the thought that tomorrow would be my last full day in France.