The Final Push

Wow, a proper breakfast! Looking at the weather (steady rain) and the route ahead (lumpy) we were going to need it! 

The Hypnos Hotel is to be recommended, but we couldn't linger due to uncertainty over how long it was going to take us to get to Calais, so we were on the road for 9am. The weather was, quite frankly, bloody awful:

The road from Hesdin to Desvres is basically a series of hills & valleys. Some of the climbs were long and some were steep. A couple were long and steep! The Granny Ring was routinely employed to keep things spinning, but Adam had to consistently lean on the pedals to add to the pain in his already sore knee. He dug deep a few times and did bloody well considering his non-touring gearing. Good lad! 

We were labouring at an average of about 10 mph for the first couple of hours, due entirely to the terrain. It did stop raining and I eventually removed my 'sun' glasses, because it was so dull that I could'nt see much. On another day, it'd be a great route through lovely French countryside, but we got to Hucqueliers and succeeded in finding a 'Tabac' open. We sheltered from the rain with a strong cup of coffee for about half an hour. 

After that it was a few miles more of tough slog as we continued on to Desvres, a larger town, in the hope of finding a decent cafe open. No such luck! Ended up buying water & Coke at a newsagents & eating cereal bars. 

Due to us not stopping for long, we had now moved well ahead of schedule, with thoughts of having some proper nosh in Calais. The route was still bumpy as we headed north through Alincthun and Hardinghen, but the rain had eased and I'd removed my waterproofs for the first time today. We got to Caffiers and looked down over Calais, some 6 or 7 miles in the distance. We were almost there & it was only about 1.30pm. 

We had booked the ferry for 5.15pm, but decided to go straight to the port & see if we could get an earlier one. After a fast decent to Guines, we picked our way on flatter roads and ran the gauntlet into Calais town centre. Not much provision for cyclists on the way into town, however the centre itself is quite cycling friendly. We got to the port and found it relatively light with traffic. Pretty friendly staff too. We managed to get on the 4.05pm sailing and went into line. Adam bought us a crepe from a mobile van man, who'd set up at the end of the line. Very nice it was too. We ate these whilst chatting to a South  African motorcyclist.

Dover had saved the steepest ascent of the entire trip. The final slog up Beacon Hill to the Military Roads and the car park were horrible. Done at last. Not an epic journey by any means, but memorable and very tough. At least we always knew we were coming home!

For our Great Grandad; Mark William Mills.