The Wissant Climb
Posted on Wednesday 18 April 2007 by Camille Savory
Day 1 – the unknown
Reach base. Unload. Nearest coffee and cigarettes? Wissant. 6km. We’re off. A short haul up out of our hamlet. Ouch. Bit of flat coast road. Fields. Mist. Long, long, slow downhill. Past two farms and left into Wissant. Coffee. Cigarettes. Chocolate. Repeat. Best get back. Whence the way we came. Past two farms. Then a long, long “Oh sh..” Grab for the granny and fixate desperately on a bath. Neither helps. Legs and lungs still rubbery as we wobble one by one back down to base, stop, and keel over.
Day 2 – the fear
A sunny Saturday’s excursion round (over?) the scenery, through the woods, and past (sometimes) the cafes. Back along the coast sounds nice. Stop for coffee at Wissant? Mmnn coffee. Trade looks. The Wissant Climb. As the last 5km of the day. Bad idea. Very bad idea. Next suggestion?
Day 3 – the knowledge
A nice day to potter by the sea. So the short haul up toward Wissant. Then five sets of shifters click into the big ring, heads down – make the most of it while you can. Whoosh into town, eyes streaming. Don’t deserve coffee yet, so potter a bit further, one eye on the clock. Must leave time to take it easy back. Wissant once more. The coffee. A deep breath. Hit the granny ring by the 2nd farm, then hunker down for the long haul, grinding a rhythm. Almost suddenly the hamlet appears. Click up through the gears, slalom the last bend, and slide to a halt with a flourish. Home.
Post script – the power
All good coffee comes to an end. Land weary at Dover docks. Which way was it from the station to get here? Uhh, down. So that’ll be UP to get back then? 5 minutes and a paltry gear later we’re there. Pah, was that it? Hardly Wissant, was it?