Recollections of Lille

It’s been about a month and a half since I left Lille now. Needless to say, it’s a bit of a hazy blur at this point. Which according my to foggy memory, feels roughly apropos. Lille was my last stop in Europe before I came home to Canada, though I wasn’t quite sure that it would be when I first arrived. I was still waiting to talk to my mom who was going through her first intensive rounds of chemo in hospital before I made my decision.

The Calm Appart Hôtel is conveniently located directly across the street from Lille’s main regional train station. This turns out to be both a blessing and a curse. The train station abuts on a incredibly busy mall and the gateway into the old city centre. It’s an incredibly high traffic area, which provides a ton of options for food, shopping, and people watching. However, it also comes with a slightly seedy underbelly that occupies just a couple of the side streets, precisely where the hostel itself sits.

Despite the surroundings, Calm is relatively well acquitted. It largely operates as a standard hotel, but it has a small hostel run out of its basement. Boasting maybe 18 beds across three rooms, a small, slightly dank common room and kitchen, the hostel was surprisingly cozy and comfortable.

The nearby shopping center had something that I had missed since having left Canada, a full-size supermarket. After a month in The Netherlands and Belgium, I had resigned myself to the smaller markets. But, here in Lille, the Carrefour supermarket was a godsend. No more running between three different stores because I needed food, shampoo and razors. I honestly teared up a little when I first walked into it.

However, despite its long aisles and various departments, the Carrefour does not have a pharmacy. Which didn’t matter to me in the least on Saturday while I was picking up groceries, but it would be immediately relevant when I woke early Sunday morning with a head-splitting migraine. It was 2am and a quick Google showed that there was nothing that was open, not even the night shop around the corner. In fact, because it was Sunday basically nothing would be open even when it wasn’t an ungodly morning hour.

I debated going to reception on the off-chance that the night watchman had a loose Tylenol or ibuprofen, but I eventually managed to ride it out and fall lightly asleep. When I got up later in the morning, my headache had receded but was still feeling some lingering after-effects. At reception, the attendant helped me find one of the only pharmacies open in the city, thankfully only a quick fifteen minute walk away.

The walk took me through the old city centre and through a quiet shopping district on a drizzly Sunday morning. The streets and squares were pleasant despite the lingering pain in my head. Arriving at the pharmacy, I found a line that extended out the door.

It was taken aback, but not surprised. After all, people needed medicine on Sundays and this was the only pharmacy open for miles. I was, however, shocked to find out that I would need to wait in this line for what I expected to be an over the counter purchase. It turns out that in France, you need to speak to a pharmacist even for basic medicine like paracetamol.

So I waited for about an hour to get to the front of the line. Practicing saying in my head “Désolé, je parle Anglais seulement” (Sorry, I only speak English). When I finally arrived at the front of the line, my pharmacist had a look of panic on his face, and turned to a colleague for assistance. He was much relieved when I said “paracetamol” and grabbed me a pack of 8 pills for €3, the maximum amount he could sell me at once. A far cry from the bottle of 100 extra-strength Tylenol that I could buy from a gas station in Canada for $12 (ok, maybe more like $18 given gas station mark-ups).

With my paracetamol now in hand, I spent a bit of time wandering Lille before heading back to the hostel to rest. Later, I finally got to talk to my mom. She was still in hospital, having rested for a couple of days after three days in a row of chemo. She was look tired, but otherwise well. She still had the energy and attitude that I expected from her, which was heartening. Also heartening was the fact that she had changed her view on me returning to help out while she was in hospital and transitioning back home. I was expecting more of a fight from her, but she understood my worry and wish to be closer and to help however I could. So it was decided that I would return home after my booking in Lille, on Thursday.

That left me with three days to enjoy Europe before my trip was paused for an indefinite period of time.

Day One: Biking the Canal

Having brought The Bike with No Name on the train with me to Lille, I felt it was only appropriate that I gave him one last good ride before I passed him along to whoever his new owner would be.

I set my sights on the Parc de la Canteraine, a large park on the outskirts of Lille (actually it’s about two different suburbs away, but I didn’t realize that at the time). It was a beautiful morning and after my work in Brussels, the bike was running great. I made it to the park in good time and was expecting to spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon looking for birds and shooting photos. But, once I arrived my body had something else in mind for me.

As I rolled through the parc looking for a shooting location, I just kept rolling. Eventually, I found myself riding along the Canal de la Deûle. And I just kept riding. And riding. Soon, I was fully out in the countryside. Both sides of the canal have pathways that running for tens of kilometers out of the city, connecting a variety of nearby towns and villages. With flat and easy riding, without much wind to speak of, I rode along the canal for about two hours before deciding that I would need to turn around.

Given the option, I always choose a different route back to my starting place than the one that took me there. I crossed the canal at a bridge that took me into the village of Hantay. I spent forty five minutes riding up and down, exploring the village. It was quite tiny and charming, a really nice diversion after a few hours of constant riding.

The rest of the ride home was as delightful as the ride out. I stopped and had a quick, late lunch by the canal. Got lost once or twice. And eventually made my way back into Lille, which was impressive in its own right as I rode through its winding streets back to the hostel. All in all, this was one of my favorite days over the course of the entire trip. Gorgeous weather and scenery, a carefree freedom and new sights around every corner.

Day Two: Trouville et Deauville

On Tuesday, I rented a car and drove from Lille to Normandy. Prior to leaving for this trip, I had imagined visiting the French coast at Normandy or Calais. But on arriving, I learned that the route by train would be long, expensive and out of the way of my other intended destinations. As luck would have it, however, my new friend Rosa, who I’d met in Brussels, was now vacationing with her parents and brother in a little resort town in Normandy, called Trouville-sur-Mer. Her family has vacationed their all her life, so she was quite familiar with the area. Wishing to make the most of my remaining time in France, I’d asked if she would show me around, which she graciously agreed to do.

So, early Tuesday morning, I picked up my rented car and hit the road. It was about a three hour drive out to the coast, and I was keen to see French countryside along the way. It was an absolutely gorgeous drive, passing over hills and valleys, through fields and forests. The 130km/h speed limit on the highway was also pretty nifty. Less nifty were the multiple toll gates that I hit along the way. All in all, it cost about €50 to use the highways from Lille to Trouville.

The drive time passed fairly easily. For a lifelong European, like Rosa, the idea of a three hour drive for a day trip was almost inconceivable. For an Albertan like myself, that’s just the price of a quick visit to Edmonton or a hike buried deep in the mountains.

Arriving in Trouville, I met Rosa not too far from the apartment she was sharing with her family, only a five minute walk from the beach. We spent the day roving through Trouville and it’s twin Deauville, just on the other side of the River Toques which runs between the two towns. Deauville is considered the slightly more high-end destination of the two, but I can confidently say that both are incredibly charming and gorgeous. We wandered from end of one town to the far end of the next and enjoyed a lovely sunset on the beach before turning back.

It was fully dark by the time we made it back to my car, and pouring rain. We got absolutely soaked on the walk back through town. I thanked Rosa for her hospitality and waved goodbye, setting off on my journey back to Lille.

On the drive back home, I learned a lesson. French truck drivers have absolutely zero tolerance for high beam headlights pointed in their direction. My side of the road was more or less empty for the entirety of the drive and the night was close to pitch black. So, naturally, as long as the opposing lane was vacant, I turned on the high beams for a better view. But, if a truck came around a corner or crested a hill and I didn’t switch off the high beams within a quarter of a second, they were more than happy to blast with the full glory of their highs, which made mine look like a dollar store flashlight.

Day Three: Saying Goodbye

My final day in Lille was largely devoted to resting and preparing to return home to Canada early the next morning. But, I did have one task to perform. I had to set the Bike with No Name free. Tristan’s original plan for the bike was simply to leave the bike on the streets of Brussels for the first person that came across him, and out of respect for his intentions, I would do the same in Lille. I wrote up a note that read “Free Bike” in English, French and Dutch, along with the combination for the bike’s small chain lock and Tristan’s Instagram handle (also per his wishes).

I walked the bike over to Lille’s main square which was buzzing with activity even on a random Wednesday afternoon. I found a bike rack with an open space, left the note on the pannier rack where it could be easily read and walked away.

I wandered around the square and the surrounding streets for about half an hour before returning to see if anyone had taken up the offer of a free bicycle. Alas, no. He was still sitting at the rack. Not enough time had passed and a watched pot never boils. I decided to unlock the chain for good measure and walked away. I hope he found himself a good home. He was certainly a delight for the short time that I had him.

In the evening, I strolled the areas around the hostel that I hadn’t really seen yet. It’s amazing what a difference turning left instead of right can make sometimes. Lille continued to impress me with its beauty, both old and new. I was sad to be leaving knowing that I had explored much less here than I had in my earlier cities. But, I was also feeling worn down and in need of a break. If things had gone differently, I had planned to take a two weeks in Paris to slow a bit a recuperate. Prior to hearing the news from home, I had booked an AirBnb in one of the further reaches of Paris where I could enjoy a room to myself, a nice treat after a month of hostels.

As it was, though, it was time for me to come home. Time to help my family through a difficult period. Europe and the world would continue to be there when I was ready to return to the journey. So at 5:30 the next morning, I rose and walked the short distance to the train station. The train would carry me to Paris, where I would catch my flight back to Calgary and another flight would bring to Edmonton, where I’d spend the better part of two months.

Bird Corner

Unfortunately, birds weren’t really much on my mind through my days in Lille. So, I have nothing to share for bird corner this time, but rest assured that it will be back for the next installment.

Where Next?

Well, now for the exciting news! My time in Edmonton is coming to an end. My mom has responded to her treatment exceedingly well and there hasn’t been much need of my help for the past couple of weeks. She has reached and surpassed the checkpoints that the doctors had defined. And more importantly, her and Shawn felt like they had everything easily under control. So it’s time for me to pick up where I left off!

I leave for Paris in just a couple of days, I’ll be staying there for three nights before making my way on to Germany.