Il Pleut

Saturday 27th October

Well as expected the weather, in Northern France at least, was much the same as in Britain.  A steady persistent drizzle that occasionally broke out into a squally windy shower.  It wasn’t until south of Tours and the Loire that it started to both dry up and get a bit warmer.  The temperature was 8.5 in Calais and ended up at 15 in Eymet, though it would be midnight by the time we arrived.

A long long journey, about seventeen hours door to door, though we did stop twice for a sleep and once for a meal and numerous times for a pee and a coffee.  You learn very quickly to put up with the tiny cups that purport to be Grande Café Au Lait, when in fact they are nothing more than espresso with a hint of milk.  One time though I hit gold, at one service station the automatic coffee machine had a selection of Cappucino’s.  I wasn’t really expecting a Cappucino, but I thought it might be a bit milkier; there were several flavours and all for 1.20 euro’s.  Without really thinking I pressed Noisette, and received a big cup, well it still would have been small in England, of the most delicious creamy caramelly coffee I have ever had in France.  It was delicious.

I was uncubating a cold all the way which has now blossomed into a full scale blocked nose, sore throat jobbie.  I get them every year and I think it is the tube to blame.  I travel every day at least twice on them, they are crowded and pretty unhygienic, and I am sure full of germs.  Anyway I am up quite early this morning despite not getting to bed until nearly one French time, Midnight English, at seven French and six English.

It is raining and my nose is running. Il pleut, but I am glad to be back home.