Memory Lane

Some things never change. Having just driven north to south through France, all, (ok nearly all) the service stations and picnic stops were undergoing major refurbishment. It was quite strange. You'd think that the work would be staggered. Anyway, what did we notice, how had things changed, after a year's absence? The roads (apart from the north) had got busier, but in the south, danger was ever present.


As we drove along the A9 towards Nimes we saw a plane crash. I'll repeat that, we saw a light plane crash land into a field near Courbessac airfield just next to the motorway. I kid you not. Then, after the peage at exit 25, at the roundabout, we saw a car cut across two lanes of traffic, missing a lorry and another car by inches. Welcome to France. At the next roundabout we saw a car in the near side lane signal left only to drive straight ahead. Welcome to France. Talk about keeping death on the roads! Some things never change. Still, a little later, it was nice to see Bryan and Gill and chew the fat before we drove down to Le Boulou on the Spanish border.


The purpose of this part of our trip was to stay with friends and meet up with others at a BBQ at the top of Col de l'Ouillat, an ancient smuggling route between France and Spain. What a drive up the mountain, with no safety barriers and sheer drops (Jan was not happy) and what spectacular views. This was real nosebleed territory but thirteen of us managed it. Custom fire pits allowed us to cook duck, chicken and various types of sausages. Excellent.


After four days of hard partying with really nice people we drove north towards Nimes to stay in the village that we moved from twenty months ago.


I haven't figured out how to post pictures yet with this new machine, so you'll have to use your imagination. Lots of people sitting round trestle tables, fire pits smoking, tall, tall pine trees with dappled sunlight.