We left the campsite quite late and by the time we'd negotiated the damn roadworks in Besançon we were too late for food.
No idea what's going on in France at the moment but it's silly season for roadworks. I've never known anything like it. I can only assume the transport department has won the lottery or had a good rummage down the back of the sofa or something.
From Besançon we headed up to Vesoul then over to Lure. There's a huge chunk of green on the Michelin map which looked interesting and no doubt quite scenic. We decided to investigate, but first we stopped for a quick bite to eat in Lure. Croque Monsieurs all round. Or ham and cheese toasties as they'd be called back home. A cheap and easy lunch. It did the trick.
From Lure we headed north to Gerardmer then onto St Die. The Tour de France is about to hit these roads and the whole route is decorated with bunting and signs. It seems that any spare old bikes around here have been brightly painted and stuck up lamp posts or in trees and hedges. Think of the Wetwang scarecrow festival stretching for miles and miles and every entry is a scarecrow cyclist in an amusing pose on an old pushrod.
The roads are superb. Monsieur Michelin had it spot on when he got his green highlighter pen out for this map. There's a few passes (cols) but they're really low ones. As in, all about 1000 meters or less. Just hills really. Further investigation is definitely needed when we come back this way next time because the roads are lovely and a pleasant change from motorway.
We stopped in St Die for a very quick supermarket shop. Just the basics really - cheese and wine. By the checkouts, where you'd find Haribo sweets at kids eye level back home, the French had an interesting take on the impulse buy tactics. They had big chiller buckets full of Kronenberg stubbies at one euro a pop. Catherine had been a good girl, and it was scorching hot outside, so I let one sneak through.
After stopping in St Die we had to crack on so picked up the long dull motorway to Metz. We decided to investigate the campsite that the two English bikers had told us about earlier in the week.
It is indeed right in the centre, on the banks of the river. It's a municipal too so only €12.
On the downside it's rammed. The campervan before us was turned away due to lack of space. Tents weren't really an issue though. There's a free for all on the riverbank for campers. There's also lots of picnic tables for public use.
The biggest gripe with this place is that the ground is a complete minefield of dog eggs. It was disgusting. We found a clear spot but had to tread a careful path to and from the tents. If I could work out who was letting their dog do this then I'd quite happily return the favour on their bloody pitch.
Our neighbour was a Dutch lad called Alron, I think. I remember his name sounded like an anagram of Arlon. He came over to say hi and we spend a lot of the night chatting. He gave us a pack of biscuits as a little gift. They were Dutch waffle biscuits with maple syrup. A huge sugar rush but quite moreish. He's here to fish the Mosselle and had three lines cast out from the doorway of his tent.
Carp and catfish were his game. He'd already had a 22lb carp out this week. He said there's some huge catfish in the river. They grow up to 6 foot long.
They'll happily take a swimming dog if they're peckish. I may just be able to find him some bait.
283 miles
No comments:
Post a Comment