Dun-sur-Meuse, June 2009

It was a pleasant Thursday afternoon and to avoid a very early start I went to my sister’s in Sevenoaks. I have always thought that I was a fairly fast filterer on motorways, but some of the riders cutting through the traffic lanes on the approach to the Dartford crossing were, frankly, insane. No gloves, riding between the lanes at speed totally oblivious to what might happen if a car suddenly changed lanes, which they do without looking fairly frequently.

Friday morning arrived cloudy but dry; I was pleased as the other guys had a really early start and it wouldn’t have been any fun in the rain at that time of the morning. I was even more pleased that I didn’t need such an early start. On arrival at the petrol station in Dover John turned up a couple of minutes later and we rode to the check in to see the others already there and waiting. Good to see 8 of us for a trip, albeit a short one.

Bikes strapped down and up to the restaurant for a full English – the last for a few days and fuel for the ride down to Dun-sur-Meuse. Dunkerque is a dreary port but we soon picked up the signs for the A25 towards Lille. We had split into 2 groups – me at the front of group 1 with the SatNav with Gary, Carl and Ray and John heading up the group 2 with his maps, shipping forecast and pipe to gauge the wind direction. We took the A and N roads mainly, which in retrospect was a mistake as it took 5 hours to get to our digs.

About halfway we stopped for coffee at a pavement café but sadly they weren’t doing food anymore. A few café grand crèmes and an expresso later, ignoring the potential delights of the pasterie over the road (you had to be there) we set off in ever improving weather – in fact, quite warm and sunny. Fuel stop and a worrying stop at a Honda dealers where the rest of us wondered if Ray was actually going to change his bike mid trip, we found the pleasantly twisting D364 in to Dun and found the War Memorial. Carol, our hostess, came out to beckon us in to the garage and even more appealingly to the fridge full of cold beers. They don’t have a license to sell alcohol, so and “honesty box” is provided and at 1 euro a can it was a welcome bargain.

We stood/sat on the terrace on a lovely sunny evening, overlooking the river and throwing peanuts to the ducks. There were three Dutchmen there who had been off-roading locally. Why are the Dutch all so tall?

Tummy filling time long overdue we walked down to a local restaurant that Carol had booked on our behalf. Simple meal, though as the French don’t comprehend vegetarianism Tony started on what would be a weekend of cheese derived meals, though he did have the beef if I remember rightly, but I’m sure it had been corn fed. Pretty waitress, I desperately tried to impress with my new found French skills but Officer Crabtree was ever present. The bummers weren’t pissing overhead though, even if John had the attic room wiz ze flashing knobs all to himself.

John and I wanted more wine back at the digs and an al fresco smoke, so we asked Ian (the host) how much we should put in the box for a bottle of wine. He said 4 euros was plenty, so we enjoyed a couple of glasses each. I said we could always recork it for the next day, but as usual that was unnecessary!

Carl and Ray were sharing, as were Gary and Chris. Tony and Pete drew the short straw with my snoring, though I did use nasal strips and Pete sounds like a chainsaw. Added to that the nocturnal mutterings of Mr Page and it is a wonder any of us got a goo nights sleep, but we did.

Breakfast on the Saturday was a continental affair but with unlimited eggs, ham, cheese bread and coffee or tea, after the Dutchmen had vacated the breakfast table. Whilst we were saddling up in the garage, one of them told me that one of his “dream bikes” was a TDM. It must be what they smoke in the cafes over there - it’s a very good bike but not the stuff of dreams!

We had originally planned to go to Germany on the Saturday but the weather forecast was a dismal affair, so instead we swapped Sunday’s planned itinerary to Saturday. This was to be the American Cemetery, the Fort at Duouamont (part of the Maginot Line) and then the Ossuary in which the bones of 160,000 French, American and German soldiers had been interred in the early 1920’s, having been exhumed from the surrounding battlefields. Very sobering and humbling these places and one wonders if those who preach hate and wars wouldn’t benefit from spending some time here in contemplation.

In the centre of the memorial is a huge obelisk with stairs, hundreds of them, going to the bell tower. On a humid day, in leathers, the trek to the top was akin to a Ranulph Fiennes memorial walk without the oxygen at the top. I was tempted to ring the bell and then we wondered what would happen if the bell actually did ring. Earplugs at the ready and “don’t panic”.

We had become a little split up but rejoined at the café for overpriced coffee, but very good food. Nothing too heavy as we anticipated the evening meal, to be taken at a French restaurant in Dun with yours truly having the task of translating the menu so no-one ate anything like pigs bits, horse or other unsavoury delights. Of course I translated it all properly and no-one ate anything like that. Or did they……… I must say the few months of French lessons has really made a difference and I intend to keep at it.

Back to the afternoon however. It became drier and we found out some little backroads around Dun for an hour or so, then back to the digs for a shower, change and drink before eating.

Sunday’s weather was little better than Saturday’s, but we set off with wets on and hoped for a bright interlude. Set off to find the old racetrack at Gueux where the old start/finish straight is now part of the road but still has the pits and grandstands at the side. It closed for racing in the mid 1970’s. It was getting warm, dry and sunny now so we set off for the vineyards south of Reims and aside from negotiating the “prioritie a droite” which has to be the daftest idea anyone has ever had, we found a little bar, had a beer or a coffee and relaxed in the sun for a bit.

Some nice roads on the way back to our lodgings and on the way back Carl and I gunned our twins (I do feel sorry for his little tranny) and had a great ride home, even if it was pretty windy.

Sunday night and a plate of roadkill and chips at the local kebaberie – nice waitress again though and as the only single man I was the only one to notice, if any riders wives are reading this. Riders Wives could be a whole new website……….

On Monday we followed the advice of the proprietor re the road back to Dunkerque. I think a lot of the “really great road” depends on whether you are riding a Harley or whatever, but it certainly was pretty in places and with some good sweepy bits too. Then came “le peage” and I can’t remember how many hours of unmitigated boredom on the motorway.

We had planned to stop at St Omer and Carl picked up a leaflet about Le Coupole, which as a WW2 V2 rocket site. Not enough time to go round, but time for a coffee and a sandwich before beating a retreat to Dunkerque and the ferry. We plan to go back to Le Coupole another time.

It was raining in Dover and queuing to get out. Tony had said he was going via the A2 but we didn’t realise he had intended to push it too. John also went that way and the remaining 6 of us plugged along the M20/M25/M11, though by Maidstone services it was dry and a pleasant evening.

Stopping at Harlow, fuel for some, coffee for others, we said our goodbyes and Ray and Carl peeled off at Barton Mills, Gary at Attleborough, followed by Pete then Chris, leaving just me to get back to Taverham.

I think I’ve mentioned everyone – Pete has fitted in well to our merry band and has a sore bum to remember us by. Gary was his usual quiet self and missed his pasty enormously. Good to see Chris back out with us again.

Oh well, next stop Wales! Would someone else like to do a piece next time? I’ve been there so many times I can’t think of anything new and will just have to resort to ripping the p**s otherwise

General Video here

Photo album here

Really boring on bike video from Paul

Ray's on bike video. Sorry, rang out of time to edit it down any more!

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