Back home we like to do our best. We do a Jack Johnson. Reduce, reuse, recycle. Carefully sort everything. Do our bit for the planet. Got to – haven’t you? Well, with all that global warming and receding ice caps. You’d be daft not to.
Even this time of the year France is full. Full of MOHOs. As many of us heading south as there are north. Some going, some coming. Some starting, some ending. Some going this way, some the other. A scattered army of foraging soldier ants searching for sustenance. Confusing sight to the eyes in the sky. All polluting. Undoing any good bits previously done for the sake of mother earth. Do any of us look bovvered? None of us heading up to Greenland. We don’t mind a bit if it does heat up a tad. Especially at this time of the year. Bring it on. And, the only receding part of this planet that’s of any immediate concern happens to be perched several inches above my eyebrows.
We break today’s journey with an impromptu stop at Langres. A walled medieval town perched high up on a rather large hump. Like a huge flattened cherry on top of a rock cake. Passed it before. Couldn’t bear to ignore a second time.
Saturday’s over-nighter – finds us nicely nestling at Camping du Lac (luckily I noticed my typo and changed the v to a c). Itself nestling alongside the Reservoir Vingeanne. Created in the early 1900s. Dam hand built over four years by an Italian labour force.
Our day peaks at 28C and gets rounded down nicely to 24C just in time for our first Al Fresco dinner.
