For those of you not familiar with Le Périphérique, it is a dual carriageway / motorway ring road around Paris. Being, what it is and where it is means that there are a great number of junctions, slip roads and flyovers squirting off in all directions, all on top of each other. Add to that the fact that we were going to have to negotiate it on a hot summer Sunday afternoon when the traffic was at its busiest and the fact this circus was full of French drivers who had spent all the morning at the battle de l'Arc de Triomphe topped off with the fact that we didn’t have a clue where we were going and you have an idea of our problem. It is a nightmare.
We had a good distance to go to keep on track with our required schedule if we were to make our booking at Calais so we really couldn’t afford too much time being lost. I decided that the best chance of success was to let the Sat Nav do the work. We pulled over and had a break south of Paris.
We had to enter the orbital at 6 o’clock and exit at just after 12 o’clock. I punched in a destination on the A1 out of Paris for Calais and explained to Bill and Henry that they needed to make sure that they kept close. It would be too easy to become separated in the war zone of traffic that we were about to encounter.
Deep breath, a quick flash of the Eifel Tower over the flat Paris landscape and we were in. It was hell! Like riding through an industrial washing machine on “heavy soiled wash”. We discovered that many French motorists like to wave to British tourists. Mainly with the middle finger of the left hand. And, apparently, the French for “Hello mate” is “merde!” I'm learning all the time. When I opened my eyes, we had come out the other end, on the right road, in good time, and no one missing! All together, a bloody miracle!
We continued north east towards Lille, looking out for either a camp site or a lodge. Mile after mile, nothing. We decided that time was marching on and we were knackered. We had covered more mile today than any other on the tour. We left the A1 at a little place called Roye. We found a cheapo lodge but it was full. The only other place in town was the Hotel Roye. It was not going to be cheap but took a vote on what to do. Bill wanted to go on and find somewhere cheaper. Henry and I were bushed and wanted to stay here. Bill agreed to go with the flow and we checked in to a triple bedded room. Henry and I showered and changed and wandered over to a local restaurant while Bill crashed out and watched some football on the TV.
THE ROYE HOTEL
Tomorrow would prove Bill to have been right and Henry and me wrong but - C'est la vie!
As a point of interest, Roye is very close to The Somme. Another day perhaps?
STATSISTICS - DAY 16
353 miles Brendan’s - Roye
3639 miles in total
Average 227 miles per day
