Jens, kann ich ein foto machen? Ja, ja, Jensie!

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Geo: 44.7315, 4.92299

This morning, as we headed into town, we passed by a bit of a festival / market, promoting local tourism and specialties, in a little park right outside the campground. We walked through the tents, and found a local brewer, who was sampling his beers. Though I know we're in France, and should be drinking more wine, we're just not winos…er…wine aficionados, and we really just prefer beer. This brewer had a blonde / weiss beer and an amber that were really quite nice, and we bought a large bottle of the blonde. A few tents down, was a saffron farmer (??). He had the most beautiful red saffron, which I would love to have brought back for everyone, but as you may know, saffron is one of the pricier spices, so it just wasn't practical. He also had saffron jam (interesting…..not something I necessarily want to spread on my baguette, but….interesting) and saffron salt. I picked up a little vial of the salt to bring back with me. No idea what I'll do with it, but perhaps some of my foodie friends can offer suggestions.

After dropping that stuff back at the van, we continued into town by bike, and found a lovely boulangerie / patisserie /viennoiserie (which means they make yummy sweet pastries) for a pain au chocolat and café for breakfast. A stop at the official merchandise tent loaded us up with a couple more things, which we took back to the van, where we also dropped off our bikes. Back into town on foot – things were going to be too crazy to deal with the bikes today, we could tell already. Our aim was to find the team buses, and hang out at one in hopes of getting an autograph (though we had nothing for them to sign), or a picture. We did find the buses, and settled in by the RadioShack bus. Dejo grabbed a spot on the barriers, and I went down by the front of the bus, to see how close I could get there. I noticed a couple of riders walking in from town, rolling their suitcases behind them. So, no car service for these guys, huh? I figured that maybe all RadioShack riders would need to be doing the same, so I kept my eye out for Jens Voigt (as you may recall, one of our favorite riders). Not much later, I did spot him walking in (though being the sensible, experienced traveler he is, he has a small backpack instead of rolling luggage).

"Good morning, Jens! Kann ich ein foto machen, bitte?" I yelled.
He looked over, clearly expecting to see someone he recognized, being that friendly with him. He gave the “Just a moment” finger, and continued to the bus. Of course he was flanked with fans, handlers, press, etc, but it was still pretty interesting to see the morning's process. Next thing I know, he's making his way over to our area. I held up Gnorm, and he came right over. I explained that he was our mascot, and we'd love to have a picture of Gnorm and him together. He obliged, and I thanked him, and said “Have a good day!”. His reply? “Well, that largely depends on the other guys and what they want to do.” Yes, I guess it does.

I was really impressed that he honored that “Just a moment” gesture, and took time out of his pre-race routine to come over to the non-VIP fans to sign a couple of autographs. I guess the lesson is that it doesn't hurt to ask. 😊

After watching the riders ride in & back to sign in, and the team cars & buses roll out onto the course, we headed back to the boulangerie to take them up on their day's offer of a sandwich, pastry & soda for €6 each. We took advantage of the campsite's shower facilities (which were much less crowded than they had been in the morning), and rinsed the past few days' grime off. We had just started to wonder when we'd be allowed to leave (as the gates were closed until the Tour was out of town….which by now, it was). I walked over the gate (all of 4 spaces away), to look. There was a group of Brits arguing with a Frenchman presumably associated with the campsite, about being able to leave. I think he was saying that we couldn't leave until 7 pm, which seemed a little unreasonable. It was now quarter to 2, and I thought that when I'd said the day before that we would leave at 2, that seemed agreeable. These folks had also been told 2 pm, so were of course upset at the prospect of staying put for 5 more hours. This lovely little man (sense the sarcasm?) wrapped a chain around the gates, and walked away! I was just about to start thinking of looking for alternate ways out, when one of the women noticed that the padlock on this chain wasn't locked. She took the chain off and threw it aside, then invited me to follow them out. I ran back to the van (where Dejo was kicking back), and said “How about NOW?” We threw back the shades, and headed out before the little man could come back and lock us in. The roads were open, but we think they just didn't want people driving through their little community festival. It was off in the park, and though there were lots of people walking around, it didn't seem like a situation that warranted quarantining the campervans until 7 pm.

So, barricades having been stormed, we were on our way. A couple of hours' driving (with a nap at a roadside aire along the way, followed by a short jog to get the blood going), and we were near our next target. I had in mind a farm/orchard that the book said could only take 2 campers. Since it was about 7 pm, we were prepared for it to be full, but when we pulled in and saw at least 4 campers, with space for more, we decided we'd try our luck.

The woman we found said yes, of course, where we were parked was fine, and we could pay our €2 per person in the morning.

As we ate our sandwiches for dinner while sitting on the lawn, we looked around and realized that we were on an apricot orchard. They also had an auberge / b&b, which looked really lovely. If our French skills were better, we'd have tried sitting in the main hall with the other dozen or so folks, to enjoy some wine & conversation. But we did meet the dogs of the house (a husky who very clearly had things to attend to, in addition to her job of greeting everyone and making sure things were in order; a small poodle who wanted only to be loved; a yellow lab-type who really just wanted to lie there) and the cats of the place (a grey tomcat who didn't need to be bothered with people, and an orange tabby who was ever-so-lovey).

We also took a walk around, and found ourselves on a path with a sign pointing to “Parc au Cochon”. We wondered what this park was, but thought we'd walk a ways to see. Those of you who speak French are already giggling, aren't you? For the rest of you: This is not a park, per se. A Cochon is a pig, so a "parc au cochon” is basically a pigsty. They had about 60 pigs or so, who were essentially free-range. And they give them space beneath some apricot trees of their own, for a treat.

As we settled in for the night, we heard fireworks from the nearby town, but figured we'd see fireworks tomorrow, being Bastille Day and all. Stay tuned!

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Photos

One of the many goofy bikes....
....available at the artisan/community market that morning

That's how they roll
The cyclists have to wander in to work, just like the rest of us

Ja, ja, Jensie!
Jens & Gnorm get acquainted