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Published: March 22nd 2006
Huzzah, we have already spent a week surrounded by lovely french people, fromages, and gut busting patisseries. Here's the story so far...
We set sail from Dover to Calais on a very very dull ferry full of lorry drivers and "others" and of course ourselves. Our excitement shone like a a lighthouse beam in this grey world and we landed on French soil eager to test our driving skills. We headed to Carlepont, (an hour North of Paris) where we planned to spend our first night under canvas at an all-year round campsite. Apart from one inappropriate moment at a service station where both of us marched into the toilet to the sound of "Sexual Healing" being played on the speakers (causing both of us to enter separate cubicles) we arrived in Carlepont unscathed. The shock on the face of the campsite owner when we said we actually wanted to camp gave us an idea of what kind of temperature to expect. It was f***ing freezing, and that's after donning thermal underwear and full ski gear. A word to the wise; never camp in northern France on a cold March night. Never. After downing a bottle of wine in the
toilet block we tried to sleep...and didn't.
The following morning we thawed and then set out for Paris. Driving into Paris was not as big an ordeal as we thought and we made our way to our good friend French Paul's house in Montmartre. We had a few excellent days in Paris, also meeting with Brandon Waltz (Fraser Court folk will remember Brandon) and Mac (the singer in Paul's band) for beers plus doing the usual touristy stuff. The day of departure from Paris began with Tom spazzing out and losing the car keys (we found them an hour later thankfully - never been so scared). Drama over, we stocked up on fruit from the stall featured in "Amelie" and left Paris for Giverny; Claude Monet's old stomping ground. Giverny is a pretty little village but unfortunately in March most things, including Monet's house and garden, are closed. However, that didn't stop us from breaking into his garden to get a few snaps of the famous bridge featured in "The Waterlillies". Nice bridge, very nice bridge indeed.
We then left for the small town of L'Montfort Amoury, a beautiful unspoiled town in which a man was so
surprised to see a British number plate that he fell over. He actually fell over face first into the road. He was fine though. This stop-off was our ordeurve for Chartres, a stunning city that tempted us to stay not just the one night planned, but three. In the unlikely event that anyone should come to this brilliant city (and we suggest you do), you must stay at the Auberge de Jeunesse (youth hostel) on Neigre Street. The housekeeper Patricia fell in love with Tom, making Ed's stay a lot more comfortable than Tom's. She was so kind to us both and gave us lots of free stuff (and washed our dirty underwear!) Highlights of Chartres included the magnificent cathedral, where we went on a fantastic tour with arrogant genius Malcom Miller (local institution, apparently). "Crepe et Salad" was a splendid dining experience (massive salads, live music, sexy waitresses). Also the town square, where you can sit with a coffee on a Sunday afternoon watching children play innocent games (and still leave the fat one out) is brilliant.
However we had to leave Chartres, and did come Monday 20th for a campsite near Etampes. (Etampes is a very nasty
little place that scared us both). The campsite was nice though and we had the added bonus of a ping pong table. So after a couple of drinks in the local watering hole we began a marathon of ping pong with only more beer for refreshment. We played for 3 hours, which kept us warm, but then nearly froze to death in our tents again. Then it was on to the lovely little Auxerre from which this correspondence is being produced. Unfortunately it is raining and fortunately this internet cafe is open.
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Stuart Purcell
non-member comment
French Car: English Explorers
Well, I think Renault would be proud of you lads; you could advertise their new car instead of that guy who was in Casualty/Holby City/whatever BBC hospital drama that involves a young boy falling through the roof of a greenhouse with an entirely plausible explanation involving rollerblades. But sounds good - despite adverse weather and homoerotic musical siuations - so live it up for now and hopefully I'll be catching up with you on those fair lands when it warms up a bit. Take it easy. S.