LONDON TO PARIS DAY 2 Coquelles to Abbeville

Having breakfasted like kings on our 3.90€ Formule Une special (as much muesli, orange juice, coffee, apple puree, unlimited French bread, marmalade and Nutella as you can consume - what more do you need?) we hit the route south. A gorgeous late summer warmth greeted us. The first few km's were Quite  took us over and around the Eurotunnel freight terminal, but it was soon on to the open roads of the Pas de Calais. The hours Stuart spent route planning paid dividends today - for the most part we were on lovely, smooth, quiet back roads.

At one point only about 10 km south of Coquelles the road was closed for a stretch for resurfacing, but in the absence of any actual road improvement activity we rode down it anyway, giving us chance to pedal along side-by-side. Great team building!

A late morning coffee at Desvres was notable only for the fact that it was served to us by a scraggy 60 year old man wearing Kevin Keegan-style 1970s football shorts and a stained white vest that looked as though it had been on his back since the 1970s. Nice. The coffee was disappointing too by continental standards.

We continued.

Now, the back roads made for great cycling, but they also bypassed anywhere that could sell us anything by way of lunch, or indeed water. By now the temperature had risen steadily, and it peaked at 33c mid-afternoon.   Dylan and I managed to find a campsite with a bar who had 2 litre bottles of chilled water available.  A life saver!  We were riding through an area known as "The Seven Valleys" (translated of course), and those valleys were traversed individually. They were challenging enough for Dylan and I as we rode this section pretty much as a pair, but with the heat and full panniers they were sapping.  Stuart was way out in front, Andy following along steadily some way behind.  Lovely contryside and villages though.  And so few cars!

In Hesdin we re-grouped, refreshed and redoubled our resolve. The time in the shade was welcome. The sector from Hesdin to Abbeville was on a slightly busier road, and it was head down and just get on it with riding for the final couple of hours, but the effort was worth it. Approaching Abbeville from the north you're afforded the most wonderful and dramatic view of its cathedral's twin steeples. Our F1 hotel for that night was on the far side of town, so we also had a cooling descent as we rode through the town.  For me the descent into town and the speed that Dylan and I made as we swept through roundabouts and cruised up the climb to the hotel were some of the best bits of riding on the trip for me.  Its strange how you can get an energy boost just by being close to your resting point.

Our evening meal was probably the most satisfactory of the trip. We were too far from the centre to walk in (and not all the party could face hopping back on their bikes), so we missed out on the characterful backstreet bistro we'd envisaged, but we did get the choice of plenty of chain restaurants. Stuart wanted to try the Buffalo Grill, but in due deference to the vegetarian in the party (me, thanks boys) we ended up somewhere more able to accommodate my needs. The others still had a choice of steaks etc, so I don't think they compromised too much. Whilst we were stuffing ourselves at the back of the restaurant we began to wonder what the flashing lights were outside. Great crashes of thunder alerted us to the possibility that it might be a touch damp. And so it proved. We lingered hopefully with coffee, dragged our feet asking for the bill, went to the loo several times, all waiting for the rain to abate, but it never did, leading to Abbeville being treated to the sight of four Brits running dementedly across a retail park back to their hotel, Stuart stripped to the waist for a bit in the vain hope that I could keep my t-shirt dry that way. Epic fail. A good night though. And a good day. It alone made the effort and planning worthwhile.