Afternoon Shenanigans & Unexpected Encounters
I spent the afternoon doing the holy trinity of lazy touring life: reading, noodling on the guitar, and sipping a beer or two. Eventually my brain wandered off and started wondering about evening entertainment. On a whim, I searched for an open mic night — nothing online. So I wandered to the local music shop, where the guy informed me that Ypres apparently doesn’t really do open mics. Guess Belgium will have to wait a little longer to hear me play and sing! They got off lightly!
Walking back, slightly dejected and imagining the open‑mic performance I would’ve absolutely smashed, I bumped into a bloke in full motorcycle gear. He was looking for a cemetery. I’d literally just walked past it, so I pointed him in the right direction. He thanked me and said, “Everyone’s so friendly here,” assuming I was Belgian. With my thick Wiltshire accent. Perhaps it was the bushy white beard made him think I wasn’t English.
Moments later the heavens opened again, so I took shelter in the Menin Gate — the very place I couldn’t visit on my 2023 cycle tour thanks to maintenance works. While the rain hammered down, I flicked through the register books. Not exactly common surnames, yet:
• 30 x Hewitt
• 44 x Long
Strange how many names you could be related to somewhere down the line.
New Tyres, New Caution, New Adventures
I escaped early the next morning, taking it easy on the new tyres. As they scrubbed in, I tested them a bit more — definitely solid in the dry. Had a cracking day’s riding, rolled through Reims, admired the cathedral, and dodged hordes of school kids on trips.
Got stuck in a loop due to Route Baree… went round the Cathedral twice.
While hunting for a loo (McDonald’s: terrible food, reliable toilets), I looked up a campsite for the night. Found one in Sézanne that looked ideal. A municipal, almost always good value.
Pulled in, deployed my finest Franglais, and was relieved of €8. Bargain. Clean, decent facilities, even a pool. Still no toilet seats — the French remain committed to this national quirk — but at least the porcelain was spotless.
I ended up pitched between a German couple on one side and an English couple on the other. The Brits immediately offered me a beer and a phone‑charging station, which is peak British hospitality. Turns out his nephew cycled to Australia, so naturally I wanted to hear all about his route. Anyone who’s done that earns instant respect and much of his route is now a no go.
Sleep was… intermittent. The campsite sits near a main road, and lorries thundered past all night. Temperatures dropped hard too — I hadn’t packed a hat, but my buff did the job. Plenty of layers, plus a heated body warmer if things got desperate. And, of course, my own “natural insulation.”
Chain Drama & Champagne Sunrises
The chain had been making a worrying noise, even after lube. One tight spot. It had done 10k miles, so fair enough. I checked Royal Enfield’s site and found a dealer in Saint‑Denis‑le‑Sens. They freed the stuck link far better than I could’ve managed I’d made it slightly better before leaving but it had gotten worse again. No new chain and sprockets in stock, sadly, but I did get a coffee and the bike sounded much happier after they’d looked at it.
The morning ride was glorious, early sun, champagne grapes, vineyards stretching forever.
The D‑roads were fast and empty, 90 km/h with barely another soul around. France really is beautiful. I passed several of their fluffy white cloud‑making machines (cooling towers), which threw huge patches of shade across the landscape. Cold in places, but stunning.
Another day of great riding: forests, lakes, familiar smells from past cycling trips, and plenty of lakes where you wonder what monstrous fish lurk beneath the surface.
Le Blanc & A Message From Olargues
Another campsite tonight, in Le Blanc. They definitely haven’t had rain — the grass was dead, brown, and crunchy. Even the ants had given up. One lone wasp was making up for it and wouldn’t leave me alone while eating.
This morning I got a message from Elke in Olargues — she’d seen I was on the road and invited me to swing by. I’d stayed with her and Norbert in 2014 and again in 202. So tomorrow’s an early start to meet up with Elke and Norbert.
