Drocourt is the sort of place you could ride through without a second glance, and you would miss a small piece of the story of northern France. The Cité de la Parisienne is a mining housing estate on the edge of the town, a grid of brick houses built by the coal company for its workers and their families, part of the UNESCO-listed Mining Basin. The name comes from the company that dug coal here. Hénin-Beaumont and Rouvroy press in on either side, and the black cones of the slag heaps rise above the rooftops.
These estates followed a pattern. The earliest were long rows of identical houses, the corons, built cheaply near the pit; later came semi-detached houses with gardens, then garden cities with curving streets, schools, churches and sometimes even a dispensary and a football pitch. The companies controlled almost every part of life, and the communities that grew up were tight-knit and proud, with strong traditions of brass bands, pigeon racing and allotment gardening that survive to this day.
Lens, a short ride west, is the heart of this world, and two things there are worth your time. The Louvre-Lens museum, a satellite of the Paris Louvre, opened in 2012 on the site of a former pit, a long, low glass and aluminium building with a remarkable gallery where art from many centuries is displayed side by side. And the Stade Bollaert, home of RC Lens, is a cathedral of football in a town where the club is close to a religion.
The riding is flat and urban for the most part, with heavy traffic around Hénin-Beaumont and the A1 and A21 motorways. Roundabouts, speed bumps and traffic lights are constant companions. Head west towards the Artois hills or south towards Arras, and the roads open up, with long views over farmland and gentle bends. Watch for slippery cobblestones in some town centres, and for wet leaves in autumn.
Hénin-Beaumont has all the services you need: fuel, supermarkets, cafés and fast food. The weather is fickle, so pack waterproofs. A stop here is about history rather than scenery, but if you have a little time, walk through the estate, look at the houses and gardens, and imagine the sound of the pit siren calling the next shift.