I’m now sat at a familiar site just south of the channel, Camping Saint Louis, which has a good restaurant, and is handy for the various crossings, or in this case for the festival at Gravelines tomorrow. My plan was a two day dash up the motorways, subject to the vagaries of satellite navigation. I think I’ve decided, so long as there aren’t any mountains in the way, that letting Google Maps or Waze decide my route, whatever the peculiarities, is a way of seeing the world that isn’t over controlled. Yesterday I passed through Lyon by way of the Confluence building and the Fourviere tunnel, looking up to the cathedral I’d stood beside in the spring. Lyon at lunchtime is no joke: keeping any Frenchman from his food is foolish, even more so in Lyon.

My overnight stay was in Chaumont. I wanted to try out my Camping Car Card, and it was one of their sites, still in the process of being converted from a Municipal. CCCis an automated system with card (or online code) operated barrier and water dispenser; so it’s possible to know online how many places are available, even to make a booking. That being said, I ended up paying extra into my online account, and I’m not sure I’ve been debited for the stay just yet. And I wouldn’t have got in but for a nice Dutch lady who wafted my card over the reader. “I love the Dutch!” I shouted out of the window to her party. I’m now hoping they weren’t Flemish.I did try to go for a walk into the town, but the road, having dropped down to the site of the old tanneries, then rose sharply uphill at a pitch my lungs wouldn’t accept. So I retraced my steps, and cooked a moussaka I had in the store and bedded down for the night.

Today’s excursion took me, thanks to Waze, along the old pre-autoroute way through Joinville and St.Dizier, two hours to the motorway. As the camping stop only had portaloos, I forwent my usual ablutions and was ready for a service stop, including strong coffee and a pain au chocolate. Then it was mostly plain sailing, with cruise control set at 65mph. But grey. Different shades of it; and low cloud touching the hills of the Vallee du Marne, making it very pretty. Both days were pretty much the same.

There’s a little bit missing in the timeline; on Monday evening Paul and Julie suggested I come over for a glass or two and a chat, which was lovely. The bottle I bought in Aiguèze turned out to be white Côté du Rhône, which I shared with Paul. Julie was a nurse, and we were comparing ailments and medications. Her take on PPI tablets was interesting: no food, but washed down with a cup of tea is fine! Must check that out, could be a game changer.

Oh, and by the way, Carola and Hildegard had only gone out for the day; she was leaving on Wednesday too. We had a lovely chat; no idea what it was about. And I touched base with Sue, knowing we share the same feelings of loss. The day of the anniversary was tricky; but the kids sent round beautiful supportive messages, which got me going. On the day, I couldn’t settle, so packed down and found a small Intermarché for a bit of gift shopping. Though the weather was gloriously bright and sharp, the wind was strong and chilly. Of course, the Mistral was blowing. Time to move on.