22 April

Ah, after yesterday, anything would be better.
I didn’t sleep quite as well as I expected and realised later it was because I only had a cylindrical pillow and not a “normal” one. I will fix that up later.
I rose reluctantly and got myself ready and was downstairs by 7:30 for breakfast – but found the clock downstairs faster than any of mine and breakfast was set out and there was no-one around.
It was different – bread, a toaster, orange juice, a pot of tea, jams and butter, another large cup and cutlery, but no plate. I realised as I poured the tea out that I had forgotten to specify milk last night, and must remember that in the future. I made my toast and had it with vegemite, then had another with apricot jam. I wondered about looking for milk myself but soon mine hostess returned and I asked, and got, milk.
I asked about the produce of the farm. I had already learned they grow corn and asparagus, and asked about the canola. That is grown as a biofuel – here, E85 is so much cheaper than petrol, almost the same price as it is in Australia, taking into account the different currencies. Then, while finishing breakfast I scanned a cartoon book given by the daughter to the mother about the Common Market. The first one to catch my eye was “35 hour week for all” and the farmer looking pleased and a cow looking puzzled, as how was she going to only work five days a week. There were others, common to GST in Australia, with farmers building new barns, not for produce but to store all the paperwork needed. Even though I couldn’t understand all the text, the expressions on the faces of the farmer and the cow were enough to explain most.
Then up, finish, and leave. I remembered to take the laptop, for although there is a WiFi network around here, I can’t access it. I may ask tomorrow morning, but by then it will be too late.
I headed off and into Blois and then went to meander slowly down the Loire valley. The first thing that struck me was that although this was the last untamed river in France (and most likely in Europe), lack of dams or barrages was the only thing not done to it. Bridges, levees, harbours, pontoons were all very much in evidence. I found I was driving along a levee, which gave me a good view of the river. It was in spate, I suppose from so much rain recently. It also had a lot of rubbish in it, natural or manmade was not obvious. The levees are good to protect from flooding, but much agriculture is done on the far side of the levee. As it no longer floods there, the soil will need fertiliser soon, while on the river side of the levee it gets soil and fertiliser added with each flood (as was happening to some areas as I looked). It was interesting to see houses which had been built before the levee. There was a line around them where a new floor had been added and they were now level with the top of the levee. For some, the area between the levee and the house had been just filled in, while others showed more panache and put archwork in. That now was the front yard and car space.
The valley is quite wide, cut from many years of flow. In a lot of places, the chalk cliffs had been laid bare and eroded back, so the caves were obvious to use as cellars and as homes. Coober Pedy is not the only place where people choose to live underground. However, living here I would choose as high a home in the cliff as possible, as floods are a regular occurrence.
I stopped in a town called Amboise. A spring festival had just finished and carnival rides and other things were being packed up. There were a lot of people around, something I suppose I will have to get used to; I had chosen my trip times to coincide with most people being at work and weather not being the best, but now the weather is improving and, like Australia, the grey nomads are out in force. I walked along the river and back through the town. At the Visitor Centre I was picked again as an English speaker by my accent. I must practise! The smell and sight of bread was just too much and I succumbed to temptation and bought a baguette. The biggest problem (apart from my waist in a few weeks) is getting crumbs all in the car, as I don’t have ready access to cleaning equipment as at home. A cleanout at a car wash, at €18 for inside and out, seems excessive for a few crumbs, especially as I would have to take all my stuff out first. So I ate outside the car and left what was left to eat later when I was outside again.
I headed further down the valley and saw more “cave dwellings”. I also saw some billabongs, but no swagmen or jumbucks. When I pulled up in a little town to finish lunch, there were two children fishing, but pickings must have been lean as they upped stakes and left very soon. I though school had started again, but it must still be holidays for some. I disposed of my first (very full) rubbish bag and set up my second.
As I meandered my way along (the road meandered, the river was fairly straight), I came t the next large town along the river, Angers. I had written some postcards and a letter, so thought an “ANGERS” postmark may be humourous. I parked in the town, near a chateau and the Tourist Information Centre. I visited that first and again, as soon as I said “Bonjour”, I was replied to in English. I got a list of chambres d’hote for further down the river and now can choose places without having to panic. I then headed off to Le Poste, to post the letters (I knew what I was looking for as a letter receiver, but was fooled because they put it inside and hid it beside a photocopier) and to cash my travellers’ cheques. Here, in a large centre, I could cash them all. I now have liquidity (but that will go fairly quickly as I pay for most chambres d’hote with cash (whereas in the US I paid for all accommodation with a credit card)). I also must remember to take the largest amount of cash I can from an ATM as it is costing A$5 each withdrawal – or else take cash from an EFTPOS transaction in a shop, but the last time I tried that the machine didn’t recognise my card.
I walked out of the post office and ran across a series of places (street, abbey, display all with the name of a work colleague – so I couldn’t resist getting that and will send them to Damien. During the day I had seen Rue de Legs (how can legs be rude?) and a few others which are humourous in English but mundane in French.
I went in and had a look at the castle. Inside it is over twenty thousand square metres and it’s right in the centre of the city (naturally, as the city would have grown up around it, for protection apart from other things). Yet with the revolution and loss of the titled class, the castle still exists and is now a valuable historical as well as recreational resource. I am afraid that at home it would have been bulldozed and redeveloped into something inappropriate and shoddily-built, in the name of progress. I hope it, and others like it, continue to exist and provide pleasure for the public.
As I left Angers at about 4:20, I had to make a quick lane change (the SatNav takes time to reorient itself and can give instructions late when first moving from parking). I’m halfway across two lanes waiting to turn left, at a red light, when a police car with two junior officers in the front and a sergeant in the back pulls up right next to me in what is left of that lane. I had to look straight across through their car to see the lights, and kept wondering if the sergeant would so anything to show the juniors he could still do real police work. Two minutes later when the lights changed I was still free, so I breathed a sigh of relief and left.
I headed back to Seuvers via the quickest route, but along the way I realised I would have to refuel. I had done nearly twelve hundred kilometres and I expected the fuel warning light to flicker on. Just before I started to panic, I saw a SuperU and cheaper fuel, so circled the roundabout, got in, refuelled and then drove on with one task off my mind for a few days.
The French have obviously got their heads together with Wyndham Council as roundabouts are not only sprinkled liberally around the countryside, they are growing more numerous each day. The SatNav confused me at one point because the directions didn’t correspond with what was there, but it proved fortuitous as I had seen two vehicles and a load of Customs agents on the road. When I went by again (this time knowing where to go), they were pulling over mobile homes. There must be something going on, but as I’m not reading the papers or watching TV, I won’t know.
Then further down the road, I thought my eyesight was going – a church spire appeared crooked. I photographed it and you can see if my eyesight has gone.
Then I was into Blois and looking for an Internet hotspot (yes, McDonald’s). I got there, did my eating and typing, checked emails (not many) and then headed out for my lodgings. On the way I saw gypsies encamped in a rest spot – caravans and cars nowadays, with the washing hanging between signs and power poles. Crowds must be expected soon as an area was roped off for a car park. I headed in with my gear, found out that to lock the door properly you have to rotate it down to close, up to shut and further up so the key will lock it. As an old dog, I learned a new trick.
I set everything up and did my usual work. Just as I was finishing, I heard others entering. There were boisterous children, then shhs, and soon after quiet, so I’m not sure what nationality they are, but I seem to be the only Australian travelling around here, in the countryside. Perhaps I will meet them at breakfast.
Just before I finish, yesterday I felt back at home. I passed through a town called Moree. The lushness and size convinced me it wasn’t Australia.
And so off to bed.