Lost in translation

Weird thing on today’s drive; I passed a warning sign I don’t remember seeing before, I read it, understood it and then spent the next couple of minutes trying to remember the english for what I’d just read. (Vents lateral = crosswinds)

N.B. Today I decided to start with the digression!

The drive to Chalons-en-Champagne was wet dreary and horrid – more than made up for by the welcome when I arrived at the very good municipal campsite there. Great boulangerie not more than 250 metres away opens at 6am and the baker does a second batch ready at 4pm so that folk can have fresh bread with their evening meal too. The next morning dawned bright and sunny with ever rising temperatures. All city’s should be visited on a Sunday as there are very few other people there, it helped that half the city centre was closed to traffic as there was a “run for life” event; kids, adults and disabled, all taking part and looking as if they were really enjoying themselves. (Apparently the Paris marathon was also run on Sunday.) At one point on the course there was a rock band who burst into beat/song as runners approached and stopped when they’d passed – quite annoying for one non-runner who was trying to boogie! (They weren’t half bad.) The city is lovely, loads of old buildings to delight the eye and we wandered for quite some time.

We moved further into champagne country, and for those of you who may be wondering about my blood alcohol levels, I didn’t bother to try any champagne – a) I was driving and my licence is too precious to risk and b) there’s not a lot of point in finding a champagne you really like when there’s no-one to share the bottle with (neither of the kids are champagne drinkers – don’t drink at all …) Stayed at another Passion France stopover, very rural and quiet, loads of dog walks along tractor tracks between fields, Daise was in dirt heaven until she got hosed down with the cold water feed! All that was “gratuit” with the exception of electricity which cost the princely sum of €2. I’ve already saved more than the cost of the PF guide 😊

Today we meandered through more champagne country back towards Arras. I’d have taken photos of the vines on their sunny, south facing, chalky slopes but at this time of year they look like nothing more than dead twigs … kind of kills the romance of it all doesn’t it? We passed through towns that had more “caves” offering “degustations” and sales than you could shake a stick at (where did that expression come from?). Coming closer to Arras the roadside verges were covered in cowslips, haven’t seen so many for years. P1080001 Tomorrow Daisy has the appointment of doom with the vet in Arras for the dreaded worm tableting, so we’re back at the campsite we started at, it’s a lot nicer when it’s sunny!! Then we shall work our way slowly north ready for the crossing early Saturday morning. I’ve found a PF stop close to Calais but not close enough that the immigrants should be a problem. May do a teeny tiny wine shop before we leave ….

🙂 🙂 🙂

4 thoughts on “Lost in translation

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