Summer Fun

Back at last from our holiday in France to a softly twittering burglar alarm and dripping overflow pipe. I recall most vividly the marathon drives of the last two weeks. Bristol to Dover, Dunkirk to the South of France and all again in reverse.

In the end, we didn't camp. The tent and sleeping bags, along with the other luggage and three crates of wine, just contributed to the load in the back of the car as I struggled up hills. On the way we stayed at Disneyland (going round the Pirates of the Caribbean ride twice) before setting off south. I drove as far as I could before coming to a slow halt exhausted in one of the numerous motorway 'Aires'. There we slept, in the car, until dawn. Apart from the lack of space, I slept like a log. Meeting our relatives in Narbonne, we had to endure their tales of the fine hotel they had just stayed in, with stories of gorges, hot springs and exquisite food.

"The ham roll and hot chocolate I had at the Aire wasn't bad" was my contribution to the discussion.

On the way home I drove as far as I could before checking into a comfortable hotel (exquisite by Aire standards). Apart from the barking dogs, I slept like a log.