A pick-me-up

After writing the previous (somewhat dispirited) post I prayed for a while then went into Béthune town square, clumsily ordered tea and a pastry using my fluent ignorance of French - at the Patisserie in the photo. It was time to take stock.

I was tired, discouraged and homesick. Well, these things pass, given time. On the other hand, I'd already made it to France, Rocinante is in good health, and the sun was shining.

I figured a few more miles down the road wouldn't hurt, and might pick me up a little. So I walked back to the bike, and on the way a young man driving past saw me, slowed down tooting his horn and leant out of the window. "Salam alaykum!" he shouted, grinning delightedly. I don't know whether he mistook my cassock for a thobe or just loved priests, but it was a greeting of peace and I welcomed it!

From Béthune I rode the 80km or so to Cambrai along broad, straight roads passing through an extraordinary succession of beautiful villages and towns. At one point I passed an old Chateau, at another a very ancient looking windmill.  With each passing mile, the blues passed on a little too.

///rejoin.ramble.brief