We’re 1372kms into our five weeks of riding and have only been wet once. That was navigating the last 10kms to our Airbnb in Charleroi. Not a bad record.
From Reims we rode to Laon, the former capital city of France. Perched high on a hill it was satisfying to ride to our gorgeous hotel using battery power to reach it. Pierre our host bought the rambling house and gave it new life with style and humour. I lit a candle for Jo in Notre Dame.
Riding to Hirson the following day was our first real food desert experience. Not a soul stirred in the villages we rode through. The farms were more akin to Australian stretching across broad plains.
Hirson was unremarkable. Gritty and somewhat grimy.
Onwards to Mons, a busy city, also unremarkable. Life was generated by the city’s students who outnumbered the old, poor and the workers.
Charleroi was meant to be an easy ride along a canal. Detours however saw us crisscrossing the water many times and the expected distance of 42kms lengthened to close to 70.
What a dispirited city it is. Grime, rubbish, people doing it tough. Best thing is to leave. I can’t imagine the lives lived here are full of optimism, opportunities and joy. We did however find the small and beautiful gallery. Not surprisingly we were the only visitors bar one other. Des and I also watched the Grand Final, albeit on an iPad after shelling out $46 to the AFL for the privilege. Bit hard to soak up the atmosphere but Des is very happy to take the win.
A few more days on the road is all that remains. Soon I’ll get the hang of the e-bike.
No comments:
Post a Comment