Washed and warmed, we high-fived a bit, then wandered the streets of the lower section of Laon. You get the impression it's not the sexy half of town; this title is reserved for the old city (known in Celtic times as Lugdunum, or The Mountain of Light), located high up, and easily-reached by a funicular(!) called the POMA. Well-deserved beer and dinner were had in a little first-floor restaurant with a very cheery waitress. The return to our room, full of wet things hung up around the place, was a soft, warm, smelly smack in the face, but with a window open, we slept like babies under a sponge-painted sun.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
At a last minute suggestion of Tac's, from our cosy little blue room in Forges, we booked not one, ladies and gentlemen, but two possible accommodation spots for the following night. Laon was the next big spot for us to hit up, but we thought perhaps we wouldn't make the 70+kms successfully in the one day. Perhaps sanely is more the adverb we wanted to be able to employ, thinking back on our washed out, blown out, exhaustive first day from the Netherlands to Belgium. It would be nice to get to Laon, but we didn't want to blow a fuse doing it. So we hedged our bets, and booked two places. One in the slightly-out-of-the-way Marle, because it was the only spot between Forges and Laon we could find, the other in the Big L itself. We would ride the first 30 or so kilometres, then make the Marle/Laon call, at Besmont. This picture shows the process: