In Northern France, Riding the Rails Into the Past

On the tracks of a railway depot in northern France, a steam locomotive puffs out smoke as if it just took a drag. An engineer and two apprentices stand inside its teal-colored cab wearing dark clothing and gloves. It’s hard to make out their faces under the glare of the midmorning sun. They’ve been warming up the engine for three hours and are ready to roll out.

One of the apprentices leans against the open window with his arms crossed, contemplating his work. What excites him most is “to feel the machine live,” he says gesturing around the cab as it shakes, jolts and howls, as if to say, “See?”

This is the Chemin de Fer de la Baie de Somme. This 19th-century railway connects the towns of Cayeux-sur-Mer, St.-Valery-sur-Somme, Noyelles-sur-Mer and Le Crotoy on the Picardy Coast of France, where the narrow Canal de la Somme expands into the vast estuary that joins the English Channel.

There is everything and nothing to see in these towns. Bike paths carve through fields of yellow flowers. France’s largest seal colony bobs around in the water, disappearing and re-emerging to the delight of boat tour operators. At dusk, starling murmurations ebb and flow through the sky. Landscapes really bring the drama.

In Cayeux-sur-Mer, a beachy town along the channel, an endless array of cabanas stretches across the boardwalk, and bronzed old ladies sit outside on plastic chairs, greeting anyone who walks through their territory. (If it’s an overcast day, they migrate into the seaside casino’s restaurant.) Three-hundred-foot chalk cliffs render beachgoers minuscule in the scenery’s display.

There are no big “sites.” The boundless estuary, medieval walls and coastlines just exist in the landscape.

I stumbled upon the chemin de fer last year. My neighbor and I had been commiserating over our hangovers in Paris and started daydreaming about the sea. “If we find a ticket for under 20 euros, we’re going,” we said. A search led us to Noyelles-sur-Mer, a town too small to have a bakery or a tobacco shop, effectively a mark of urban legitimacy in France.

When we arrived in Noyelles-sur-Mer, the whistle of the steam train got our attention. Since our first ride, it’s been hard to stay away for too long.

A railroad running on steam and volunteers

Between carriages, wind whips through an open-air corridor connection and metal clashes on the track. The clicks and clacks, roars and double-thuds come together like a song as the train curves, lightly brushing…