Liévin is a town of thirty-four thousand people that grew up around coal, and the Protestant temple on its streets is a small reminder of how mixed the mining population was. The pits drew workers from Belgium, Poland, Italy and North Africa as well as from the French countryside, and the mining companies built churches, schools, shops and entire districts for them. In a region that was overwhelmingly Catholic, a temple stood a little apart, and its quiet presence says something about the way the basin took in newcomers.
The mine was never gentle on this place. In December 1974 an explosion in the Saint-Amé pit at Liévin killed forty-two miners, one of the last great disasters of the French coalfield, and the memory is still strong. The last pits in the basin closed in 1990, and the towns have had to find a new identity since. Today the landscape of cités, the rows of brick workers' housing, with their small gardens, and the slag heaps rising from the plain, forms the Nord-Pas-de-Calais Mining Basin that UNESCO listed in 2012.
Liévin itself has fuel, supermarkets, bakeries and a few decent restaurants, and the town centre is an easy place to stop. Lens, with the Louvre-Lens museum, is a few minutes away. You can pick up a coffee in the square, and in the evening, the bars fill with football talk, since Racing Club de Lens is a passion for the whole area. The accent you hear, ch'ti, has a warm, singing quality that visitors enjoy.
Riding here is flat and often grey, with straight roads, roundabouts and brick houses. The cités are quiet and clean, with a dignity that comes from their uniform rows, and slowing down to look is rewarding. Light is best in early morning or late afternoon, when the brick turns warm red. Spring brings flowers to the gardens, and autumn mist drifts across the terrils. In winter, rain and wind can be bitter, but the cafés are warm.