Cycling to Quend

Very sunny day – but not too hot – so we set off for a beach further up the coast as Phil wanted to go swimming.

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There are sculptures of birds on the roundabouts.

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The cycle paths are brilliant – and no hills!

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Went past the marshes – full of birds

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and horses.

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Cute little baby swans!

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Lots of flatness!

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We arrive at the seaside!

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Phil manfully strips off and strides away for a swim – while I sit in the sun and read and knit and bake. Bliss.

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Quend was a bit less upmarket than St Valery-just one street with bars and shops  which led down to the seafront. Bit like a section of Margate.

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But lovely beach,if you like sand.

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Wonder who took this picture?

We  went back a slightly different way to start with- but still flat cycle paths, this time through a wood,

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and then along the coast at Le Crotoy.

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The cycle path went out on a strip of land through the marshes – it was absolutely beautiful.

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From there it was back along the cycle path as far as the turn off for our campsite – where we had to ride up a hill for the  first time that day.

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And home.

St Valery sur Somme

We slept  quite late – and the day was grey.

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Went to the Canvas Holidays tent to pick up some leaflets, and read the messages left by other holidaymakers – including one by a woman who had lost one of her false teeth in their caravan. 

Decided to walk into St Valery to the market- cold to start with –but it warmed up on the way.

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St Valery  was busy and the sun had come out – we walked around the market and bought olives, pickled garlic,  strawberries and melons, and I resisted the temptation of a beautiful red leather bag.(Which I now  wish I had bought.

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There were information boards all over town – so we learnt that the estuary was once a hotspot of worm fishers – as below

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and then a tourist destination.  I must get myself one of these swimming costumes!

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There was a board walk going along the riverfront, and we sat down for a while and watched a pack of sheep on the other side of the river.

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At the end of the boardwalk there was a restaurant with several families eating outside being sandblasted by the sand blown off the beach. We walked up the path to the medieval part of the town.

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Fine set of klaxons!

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Went into St Martins church, and saw the shrine of St Rita – it was as if they had sanctified  the population of a Hull council estate.

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Obviously –again –someone had expected me.

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The little chapel dedicated to the war dead was different, in that it listed the civilians who had died as well, never seen that before.

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Well, we all want a part of Big Alan, don’t we?

When we got back to the market place it had magically transformed itself into a car park .

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We walked through town getting depressed at the price of eating out- and at the price of beer – 7 euro a  pint  of 1664! Back to the caravan and bottled leffe!

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As we walked  out of town we passed a bridge over a stream which in England would have been littered with shopping trolleys – Phil said ‘there won’t be any fish in there’ at which point a loch ness monster flicked it’s tail and swam into view.

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Just caught it’s tail as it disappeared into the depths.

Very windy walk home – which was a bit like playing Russian roulette under the trees! Phil went off for a short bike ride after dinner.