07:50: Awake. Caravan interior at 0°C. I’m prepping breakfast. I’ve skipped showering, it’s icy cold. I was cold during the night until I wrapped myself in the quilt. The mattress was sucking the heat out of me.
09:12: Packing. Still cold. Breakfast was fried eggs on buttered bread. I’ve boiled the other two for lunch.
09:30: Packed. I think I’ll just walk out the gate.1
09:40: On the road.
09:46: Leaving the village of Autheuil-en-Valois. Headphones in.
10:32: Mareuil-sur-Ourcq.
10:47: There’s a boulangerie! I bought a tradi-grains and a pain au raisins for €2.35. I only have three slices of dark bread left so it’s good to have more in stock.
11:03: Before I head out of this town, I’m taking advantage of the sunny, warming day, bright sun and mobile data signal to book another night’s accomodation after tonight’s campsite stay.
11:24: Request sent to a host purportedly in Chartèves.
11:34: Moving again. Really need to crack on.
13:05: Lovely walk along a canal. Veering east now to get to Crouy-sur-Ourcq.
13:10: Stopped for lunch. Egg salad and cheese salad sandwiches. Sunny and not windy.
13:54: Moving again.
14:05: Crouy-sur-Ourcq. My accomodation in Chartèves for the night of the 21st is confirmed. March on.
14:36: Leaving Crouy-sur-Ourcq.
15:18: Coulombs-en-Valois. Pretty town.
15:31: Leaving Coulombs-en-Valois.
15:55: Crossed the TGV line a few minutes ago. It’s a bright blue day with a following breeze. Nothing like the cold wind of the last few days. I’m stopping to take my trouser legs off and have a drink.
16:04: Moving again.
16:23: Dhuisy.
16:54: Montreuil-aux-Lions. I’m making good progress so I’m stopping for a coffee in a bar. There are precious few of these that are remotely inviting to me2 but this one caught my eye.
17:09: Moving again.
17:27: Walked past my first vineyard!
17:55: Bézu-le-Guéry.
18:03: Leaving Bézu-le-Guéry. Beautiful rolling countryside, mixed forestry and smaller crop fields.
Shopping list
notebook, anti-perspirant, porridge, chocolate powder.
18:32: Villiers-Saint-Denis. Now to find the camping.
18:35 Champagne “Vente Direct” signs.3
18:55: All the way through the town. No signs for the camping.4 I’m heading for Charly. Maybe it’s on the way and maybe I can find a cheap AirBnB in Charly, or cheap chambre d’hote. Moving on.
19:01: Spoke to a couple in a car who happened to pull up. The camping was up the hill at the previous turn!5
19:08: Outside the gate.
19:18: €10.00 for the night. Only spots available are very shady. Getting set up.
20:19: Got set up in a sunny spot that’ll catch the morning sun. Had a lovely quick chat with Aisling. She’s booked her flights to Paris for our birthday holiday together and now she’s picking a city for us to rendezvous in. My dinner is Kettle Chips and an apple. The sun is dropping behind the hill opposite, so no time to make sandwiches. It’s going to be very cold overnight so the veg will keep for another day. After dinner and a wizz I’ll get into the sack. Porridge for brekkie tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it!
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I was in a stinking humour because of the piercing cold and had no stomach for the smiling host interactions.↩
I hardly drink coffee and I don’t drink alcohol anymore, so bars are just not that interesting to me. This one reminded me of unpretentious roadside cafés in southern Italy and Portugal so I got a warm fuzzy feeling and dropped in.↩
I’ve entered the land of Champagne caves.↩
…and not a soul moving in the village. French towns can be oddly deserted. I’ve been surprised to find that there’s no outdoor culture in the French villages I’ve passed through; nothing like you’d find further south in Europe. I was expecting to find old men and women idling the day away sitting by their doors, or in groups in public places in the village. But no; the French (in this part of the country, at this time of year) are very private.↩
The directions I’d received were a bit ambiguous (I only understood “back that way and uphill”) so moments later, when a Dutch couple with their caravan in tow pulled up, also looking for the camping, I misdirected them into the town. The chap whose directions I’d misinterpreted came running up and pointed up the side street at whose foot were were standing. ↩