Well, obviously four in our case . . . and the song continues (if you can remember that far back) . . . “but I’m singing a happy song”.
A six hour amazingly uneventful journey yesterday (although we did get rained on for the first time in six weeks), sees us parked up with seven other campers. The site is next to a main road and the new tram line into Besancon centre. Leaving Annecy’s twenty three degrees to the thirteen we were greeted with over here reminds us that home is beckoning. Mind you, with Beastie, home is wherever we can find a lac!
We wake to a further reminder. Four degrees and it’s a typically damp, dark, grey misty November feel to start the day. We like a good hot shower. Especially on an October morning such as this.
[You do tend to lose all track of time when you’re away for this long. It really doesn’t matter what the day, week or even month is. In my case an occasional personal reminder is enough.]
So, we walk the ten paces to the shower block. Run the water for five minutes. Temperature refuses to budge above luke cold. Mary-Ann chickens out. She is not singing a happy song. Unfortunately, I have to pretend I’m made of sterner stuff. I become a “huffer and puffer”. Whistling out of the question. Can’t catch my breath. When your goose pimples start resembling nipples you know the water is seriously cold. I can hear Mary-Ann having a Franglais conversation with the janitor. He tweaks some levers and “voila!”. Still icy cold. Oh la la. Now he’s not singing a happy song. By the time we’re leaving the site he is still scratching his head.
That’s one big difference we’ve noticed between the Italian and French sites. The French tend to give you warm water under a push button control. Thirty seconds of water per frustrating push. The Italian’s give you hot water and as much as you can take.
Beastie is currently shielding us from the elements above Reservoir de Bouzey, about 7K west of Épinal. Our bitter lake-side walk rewarded with a hot coffee and “doggy-bag” left overs from lunchtime’s stop off at Plombières-les-Bains. A thermal town first established by the Romans, then made famous and fashionable by the likes of Napoleon Bonaparte and Voltaire. From the state of many of the old beautiful buildings, it’s clear that it’s just managing to keep its head above the thermal waters.
A perfectly french Salon de Thé gives us an opportunity to practise some spoken French. No English is exchanged for once. All rounded off nicely with a speciality thé and a selection of deserts.
As we leave, it’s clear that Napoleon az left eez at!
