June 20, 2022. Exhausted from the past few days, I slept in and didn’t wake up until 10. I set off to find a sunshade, a pillow, and some groceries—just basic errands, but even that turned into a bit of a saga. Stopped by a few big box stores, but Intermarché was too expensive. Eventually found a L’Eclerc and managed to get what I needed, including peanut butter—which, oddly, was in the British food section. A young woman helped me find it, which was kind of her. Still, I was frustrated with how long everything took and how many stops I had to make. Hit a gas station too, and by then I was just angry and drained.

Headed back to Reims, hoping maybe the museums would be open on a Monday. No luck. The cathedral didn’t do much for me—it felt underwhelming—but the basilica was really lovely, especially the tomb of the saint surrounded by those beautiful marble pillars. I chatted for a bit with a man in the parking lot who had a handicap placard. He was surprised I spoke French and launched into this long, animated story about winning thousands of dollars at a Las Vegas slot machine—he just knew it would hit. Very nice guy, but I was feeling rushed and anxious to get on the road. I filled up some water and took off, trying to find a windmill I’d seen on the map.

Turned out it was actually a café on a university campus. Got stuck in a dead end and couldn’t get out for a while, which only added to the frustration.

Finally made it to Arras and parked near a big square with these incredible archways and elegant buildings. Found out it had all been destroyed during WWII and reconstructed by an architect who restored both main squares, the cathedral, and the basilica/abbey. There was a walking tour with plaques around town, and I followed it as best I could. Ended up at an outdoor concert in the courtyard of a patrician home—so cool to get a glimpse inside. The church nearby had survived the war, but most of the surrounding area had not.

I spent over an hour wandering, then tried the Musée des Beaux-Arts—but it wouldn’t open until the next day. Of course. And I wouldn’t be there.

Pushed on to Lille. Parked near Théâtre Sébastopol and was completely wiped—three nights of bad sleep catching up with me. I called Kanga and then Shawn, who offered to pay for a hotel. I didn’t think I’d find one nearby, but somehow, I did. And a very cheap one at that – something like 50USD. I felt guilty about Shawn’s offer and didn’t want him to have to pay much. It was hard to figure out how to check in. You had to punch a series of codes into a kind of vending machine. There was no one working there. Seemed like the majority of guests were Algerian laborers of some kind. One was very kind and helped me check in. I happily brought in my pillows, took my meds, left the window open, and hoped I’d finally sleep. Miraculously, it cooled off and… I slept. Like a new person.

In the morning, I felt almost human again. Messaged Hendrik to see if I could visit the next day. I needed the break.

June 21. After that blessed sleep, I went back into Lille and prayed I wouldn’t get a ticket or towed. Construction made driving a nightmare, so when I spotted the first handicap space, I took it. Nearby was a small park—used to be a canal, now filled in. I walked to the end and found the old port still intact with lovely historic houses.

From there, I crossed town looking for the old center. Found the tourist office and climbed up the tower it’s housed in—discovered the grand staircase and chapel that still exist. I wouldn’t have known they were there if I hadn’t been poking around. That kind of curiosity—Shawn had mentioned it when we parted ways. Said he never would’ve found half the things he did if I hadn’t been with him, always digging for the interesting stuff.

I kept thinking about that old phrase, “curiosity killed the cat.” It sounds like an admonition, but I think it’s a positive trait. It’s much of the reason I travel.

Took some photos of the old town, and tried to get into the Vieille Bourse which had been the Lille Chamber of Commerce and Industry and is considered to be one of the landmarks of the city. I was told it was closed for a private event, and I asked if I could take a few photos as I was interested in the architecture. Still felt a bit left out watching others go in, but they said they worked at the bureau.

Wandered more. Found a lovely passage behind the cathedral—though I didn’t fully understand the facade until later. I joined a tour of EU folks from Brussels and learned it was completed as part of an architectural competition. It was supposed to be gothic, but they used 3cm-thick Portuguese marble sheets instead. The designer was the same guy behind the Sydney Opera House. When the light hits it just right, beige, golden and orange light filters into the hall. It was stunning.

On the tour (they tolerated my eavesdropping), I also learned about Musée de l’Hospice Comtesse which was a stone’s throw from the cathedral. The canal that runs alongside it still has a waterwheel, though most of the canal is now covered with wooden planks. There’s an art installation in the old monastery garden—pumpkin-headed figures in rain boots, towels around their necks, and more working away. Odd but charming.

I wanted to see the castellum, so I walked out to the moated area and explored the nearby English and botanical gardens designed by Vauban. There was a puppet theater too, but I couldn’t get in—gate was locked even though they were giving a show. Found a fake cave and waterfall nearby, and then I saw people chasing a hedgehog. It made me sad—brought back a memory of the only other hedgehog I’ve seen, in a walled town on the Ukraine-Poland border, with no greenery in sight. I told them to stop chasing it, that they’re scared of people—and to their credit, they did.

I liked Lille. Especially after finally sleeping. Explored the moats and castle—though it’s occupied by the military now. Walked back through the streets, popped into a tea shop, and then found a boutique run by a woman named Ellen who made international news for her dried flower arrangements. She also collects and sells Japanese porcelain. Very cool.

Went into another little gem—a purse shop set in what used to be an oyster and mussel fish house. Beautiful Art Deco tiles inside. Bought a waffle with vanilla icing at the tea shop where they had photos of Buffalo Bill, who once came to Lille and ended up recruiting locals for his circus. Eventually, his face even became the logo for the tea and sweets brand. Wild.

Kept winding through the same charming streets until about 6:30. Then decided it was time. Found my car—no ticket!—and drove to Ghent to stay with Hendrik.

Arrived, parked a little off from the house, but he came out to meet me. We unloaded, caught up, and hung out for a bit. It was the longest day of the year—and the longest-feeling one too—but we went to bed early. I tried to sleep, but it was too hot. Of course.