July 13

Amiens to Rouen
Woke at 10:45.
Visited cathedral, then the floating gardens of St. Leu. After acquiring the first truly brilliant pastries of the journey, a custard tart with apricots and un tartelette du pomme, rode to to the nearest mini canal to enjoy breakfast while admiring the gardens. Low and behold, there appeared before me young Torval. After a conversation mostly in gestures, he disappeared up the path to the garden house, shortly to reappear with Papa. We negotiated throu the names of various fruits et legumes until deciding upon les pruins. Unable to say that I wanted only 250g, Torval, with the assistance of Papa Pascal and frere Guime, delivered to me 1kg of ripe pruin for all of une Euro. Then they insisted upon filling my bottle with l'eau as we chatted about the beauty of le jardin du familie Pascal, and Papa queried me about mon journie. All too soon it was, "Merci beaucoup" et "Au revoir."
So, at about 3 I headed to Rouen. The light became more and more stunning as the day progressed. In Buchy, a sparkly eyed septugenarian greeted me as I photographed the market shelter. She spoke no Anglais, yet we made a fine conversation full of admiration mutuel. About 13 km outsideof Rouen,the GPS led me on a spectaclar, if roundabout, entry into the great city. Down a quiet valley meadow hugged closely by foret verte with curves as sensuous as any Venus. Then up and over a fairly large hill which enbaled a dramatic descent into the city. The first view of the cathedral spire took my breath away. By then it was 10 p.m. Tired and joyful, I let the GPS lead me to camping about 6 km east of downtown.

Last light

La grand dame.

Paradise

Taureau

Windfarm.

The best jardin in le district St. Leu!

Torval et Pascal.

Peronne to Amiens

July 12
Peronne to Amiens
106 km
Le circuit de souvenir (the circuit of remembrance)
Graveyard upon graveyard, the ground is well fertilized with million or more bodies of brave, scared, hopeful and hopeless young men. The whispering wind, the quiet expanses of wheat and potatoes, yet it is possible to imagine the horrors that transpired here almost a century ago. Sitting beside Le Grand Mine, where the largest explosion mankind had ever created blew apart thousands in an instant, I could imagine the din and the spraying bits of bodies. The land still bears the odor of adrenalin and the sweat of fear, the memorials make it so. Perhaps we need the same in the United States, places to remember the horrors we are capable of.
The day was appropiately overcast, beginning to rain as I left Le Grand Mine, bidding farewell to the battlefields of the Somme and descending into Amiens. Must go back to visit the floating gardens before heading out to Rouen. It was raining too hard for me to say more than, "Wow!"
Menno's GPS did me well again, leading me to a fantastic camping ground within the city. Only 3 E, and WiFi, too. Le Parc des Cynes is surrounded by pond and canal. The birdsong is intense.

Le pot du Riz. Merci bien, Menno!

Bike of the day, Amiens.

Boom.

Site of the largest explosion known to man at the time. Like a small nuclear device.

Papier poppies.

Waiting for Papa.

So many lost.

Weep.

Maubeuge to Peronne

July 11
Maubeuge to Peronne
I made goofy tracks for the GPS, leading me down rutted dirt farm roads. Ended up route finding instead. When close to the end of the day, the GPS found me some camping municipale!
Riding into the memory of the trench warfare of World War One. Huge american cemetery, and many small British cemeteries. Tomorrow will be a tour of the Somme.
133 km.

Peronne

le nom de chat est "Mascot"

Rockin' for real.

J'aime les canal.

Layers of history

Beautiful scenery, rough roads

Maastricht to Maubeuge

July 10
200 km from Maastricht to Maubeuge. Rolling through countryside, beside silent canals, under freeways, along quiet wooded lanes, down alleyways, through town squares large and small, traversing huge fields of wheat, corn, potatoes, beans and something else (turnips?). Surfaces varied from baby butt smooth pavement, to broken concrete, to seas of cobbles, to finely gravelled towpaths, even some stretches of sandy earthen roadway. Lucky break of the day was a brand new bike trail from La Louviere, Belgium, all the way to Maubeuge.

Maastricht's city wall.

All day fields wheat and corn and potates.

The marching band alarm clock in Maasstricht