Compared to the neighbouring Belgian Ardennes or the frequently ridden roads of Luxembourg, this is a far less explored area. Is it due to its less trendy image? Are the roads of inferior quality?...
I want to find out why we as motorcyclists tend to overlook this region.
French Ardennes
Motorcycle Diaries
The north of France doesn’t exactly hold the greatest appeal for us motorcyclists.
The Husqvarna 701 was freshly shod with a brand-new set of Bridgestone S23 tyres, so I could start my journey with plenty of grip!
The day’s first turn of the key takes place at the Place de la République in Givet, a small, cosy town just over the Belgian border on the banks of the River Meuse. If you’re a fan of a coffee on a terrace, this is your chance—because you won’t come across many terraces along the way.
With a clear head, I set my GPS to start the 290 km route. I leave Givet via the outskirts of this small town, and in no time, I’m surrounded by greenery. After a few kilometres, I cross the border back into Belgium almost without noticing. Along a wonderfully quiet road with a rather rough layer of asphalt and lined with trees, the route follows the lines of the French border to Willerzie.
From there, the N952 takes me back into France. This too is a beautifully winding road through the countryside. I’ve been on the road for barely half an hour, and I’m already hooked on this region. The tranquillity, the feeling of having the landscape all to yourself—it’s relaxing riding, just the way I like it: far from the hustle and bustle, with all the space you could want.
I find myself once again on the banks of the Meuse at Fumay, but soon leave the river to head into the woods a little further on. The road crosses the Forêt Communale de Haybes. It’s not the most challenging stretch of tarmac, but it fits perfectly into the day’s plan: to seek out very quiet, smaller roads. And quiet it is! I don’t pass a single other road user, and only see signs of life again as I approach Revin and the banks of the Meuse once more.
The same Meuse continues to guide me for a while. I follow its rugged banks through the verdant landscape with the leisurely hum of my single-cylinder beneath me. I turn off the D1 at Monthermé to take the beautiful Route des Phades—a narrow, winding road that follows the meanders of a river. Apart from a hiker and a few cows by the roadside, I have this stretch entirely to myself once again. I climb out of the river valley via a series of hairpin bends on the Rue de Levrezy, and find myself back on the familiar D1, heading along the Meuse towards Charleville-Mézières.
Here comes a bit of a culture shock—suddenly thrown into the hustle and bustle of city life. But it’s the perfect place to refuel—both myself and the machine.
Still, I quickly nudge the Husqvarna back into motion to escape the traffic and diesel fumes once more.
True to the cliché of a northern French city, I’m overtaken on the way out of town by a group of young lads on loudly crackling scooters. With flapping hoodies, they weave through the traffic, scenting the streets with two-stroke fumes… La jeunesse…
The landscape opens up, and forests give way to cultivated fields and meadows.
One constant on this route, however, is the near-total absence of traffic (except in Charleville-Mézières). But you’ll also need a magnifying glass to find a café, terrace, or even a petrol station. So, if you come across one, it’s best to fill up—both your tank and your spirits—so you can continue your journey with peace of mind.
The road leads me northwards again, towards Villaine, where I find some narrow, almost forgotten lanes. Roads so small and scruffy they haven’t even been given names, and the tarmac has more holes than surface—but oh, what a joy to ride! Perhaps not ideal for a Ducati Panigale, admittedly. But the generous suspension and playful character of my Husqvarna make it a blast! The weather is perfect for riding—around 20°C with a soft sun... ideal biking weather.
I continue via Marlemont to Maranwez, turning onto the D10 towards Draize, just north of Montmeillant. The forests have now completely yielded to farmland. Everything feels more open, the views stretch wider, and the landscape is already hinting at the Champagne region further south.
The pace can pick up a bit now, and I stay on the D27 for quite a while, cutting through gently rolling fields with my eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
At Chémery-sur-Bar I leave the D27, heading straight for Sedan—my finish line. And it’s about time... my backside aches and my head is weary from the intensity of the ride.
But what a ride it was!
On the way back, the French leave me with one final souvenir: a nail finds its way into my brand-new rear tyre… and with a slowly deflating back wheel, I make my way home...
