Day 3 – Tuesday 17 June 2014

Arras to Coucy-le-Chateau

Hotel

Hôtel Restaurant Belle Vue

Notes

We got away fairly early. The photograph I took in Grande Place shows the entrance to the hotel with not a sign in sight. No wonder we couldn't find it last evening.

It was pretty busy with rush hour traffic as we left Arras but we were quickly into open country and spent most of the day on quiet roads in open farmland. There were some sharp hills and again I used all me gears. We ate very well, finding a café at eleven o'clock and another at three in the afternoon where we had coffee and gateaux. We stopped for lunch at another military cemetery.

I know why they built a chateaux at Coucy: it's a good defensive site at the top of a very steep hill. At least when we got there we could stop for the day. We'd done over 70 miles again and I was pretty tired. Dinner that evening was good and the hotel was quaintly attractive. It stayed dry all day and in the afternoon it began to warm up, as we went further south.

I now wish to introduce the delicate subject of cycling underwear. Should you wear underpants? Answer … "NO!" Until this trip I had always worn briefs under my cycling shorts for the sake of modesty. At first I had used standard cotton briefs (from that shop where everyone buys their underwear) but found that the vertical seam running up the front of the briefs caused me untold grief. I had a hunt round on the internet for "seamless briefs" and after ending up on various websites with images that caused my eyes to water eventually came across a genuine purveyor of sports wear and, joy oh joy, seamless sports briefs. These I was wearing at the start of this trip. By the time we had finished the second full day I was beginning to – well – chafe. Perhaps what I was wearing were designed for runners; after all, they don't do it sitting down. Certainly there was not a seam anywhere near the bits that actually bore my weight on the saddle, so what was it? I agonised (mentally and physically) for some days before deciding it was the nylon fabric: non-absorbent and pretty unrelenting. In the end I did what I believe most self-respecting cyclists eventually do: I disappeared behind a bush and took them off. Oh, the relief!