Underground

Today we drove about 30 minutes to an old coal mine for a tour. If Annette can't find the name, we will call it the unnamed mine (Le Centre Historique Minier).

We went through the museum, and then underground to see how mining used to be done. 

We had the English commentary earphones that I think gave us the bare minimum, whilst everyone else got a more comprehensive French explanation, I think.

From there it was to the onsite restaurant. Claire's sister Anne joined us. I got the chicken stuffed with stinky cheese. I was told the taste would not taste like stinky. It tasted like stinky.

I ate my first endive. Yuk. The cabbage didn't impress but my small carrot was nice and the leftover chips in a mushroom sauce from Annette's plate were the highlight. I had a rhubarb crumble for dessert. It was cold and not really sweet as expected. Judging by all the leftovers, we all had the same lunch thoughts, except for Annette's blackboard special, which she enjoyed, but her dessert of Libouli tart was ho hum.

We then headed to Douai and visited a church,

and then climbed the tiny spiral 139 stairs of the belfry,

saw the bell ringing keyboard (not its real name) and came down.

Congratulations to those of us with dodgy knees who completed the journey.

Back home for a rest and planning for the trackwork that has thrown tomorrow's trip to Rouen into some chaos. The result is leaving for a train that leaves at 7:16 am tomorrow. What could go wrong?