Eating up the miles (and paper...)


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Europe » France » Lorraine » Amneville
August 13th 2017
Published: August 13th 2017
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After the windy night in Montpellier, we headed off on the longest journey of the holiday, broken up by a stop to meet a friend on her holiday. This journey went on for seven days. Or more possibly. We stopped in the Ardeche for pizza served by a decidedly miserable French woman, caught up with our friends and her little boy for an hour or so which was lovely and got back on the road. We stopped at possibly the worst French service station there is, it felt like we were in some kind of b movie about a motorway murder. The only upside was the free balloon. Then we drove. And drove. And kept driving. The weeks turned into months, months into years. The baby got restless so his parents sang. The wheels on the bus, old MacDonald, over and over again. We played peepo, we played ' give the baby anything at all you can find that might keep him happy' which was great until I realised how quiet he was and that the wallet I'd given him had paper sticking out the top and he was having a bit of a nibble. Finally we arrived in the middle of nowhere to a lovely welcome by unusually happy French folk. The room smelt of lavender (or BO according to Ash!) We ate a picnic of chocolate while the baby slept, watched the athletics and went to sleep.
It's only this holiday that I've thought that I should have brought business cards with me printed with ' not poop, sorry though' as the baby seems to have managed to decorate all the bedclothes in all the hotels so far with an assortment of dribble, food, calpol and mess.

We left the hotel somewhat apologetically and headed for middle of nowhere mark two, yet another thermal town. This one had less singing, Seth was grateful, more hole on the ground toilets (trauma for me ) and a supermarket stop which pleased us all. We got to the next place, a log cabin, full of excitement and saw...shut gates. The single time we got to a place early, could use the pool, have a rest, get all sorted and they don't let you in till four. We went for a walk back to 1963 judging by the supermarket in town, saw literally no one (we decided long ago that no one actually lives in France, there's never anyone around) Sat on a bench, got stated at by old folk and the police, fed the baby (very confused about why he had only eaten outside today I think) and waited. Finally the gates opened, the angels sang and we went in. The cabin was great, smelt all woody and even had a kitchen. Seth got to crawl (and immediately face plant the floor) and okay and watch French cartoons and we got ready to go for a swim. Except no, the one day we're there, they're cleaning the pool. Still no swim. Just two sad looking British folk in swimming attire. Actually wanted to stomp up to reception and get all shouty and sad. Instead I was very British and just shuffled away forlornly feeling very sorry for our brilliant baby who had been such a trooper over the longest journeys but hadn't got to see fish, swim or anything except listen to our increasingly bad singing and eat paper! He seemed fine though and once he was in bed, we sat on our decking drinking the worst wine ever before creeping into bed.
What is it that most Europeans don't get about pillows? So far every hotel has had essentially a pad of cotton wool in a pillowcase and called it a pillow. I'm on a mission to share the pillow love to all of Europe I think.
Today's journey was shorter and sweeter, a stop for lunch with all the British people at a services, purchase of the strongest mint in the world (like chewing a steradent) and we arrived in Amneville. Along with everyone else. Impossible to describe, it's kind of like a town sized entertainment complex which I booked a hotel in without realising. There was also an aquarium. Actual fish. After checking in, we got in the car to go to the aquarium to make up for the lack of fish down south. Google maps told us it was a seven minute drive. Except the road was barricaded and we were directed to the car park for the whole complex. It dawned on us that the car park was both full and only about twenty feet from our hotel so we drive back to the hotel and walked to the aquarium......poor Seth must be so confused about his parents choices! The aquarium looked like a scout Hut. And as we started it felt like it had been set up as a project by scouts. Just s few big fish tanks and a nice pond. Seth however loved it, and it got better. There were sharks, jelly fish and just enough to suit a small boy who clung to his new toy iiisssshhhh ask the way home. Back at the hotel, Ash and Seth got stuck in the lift, not because it broke but because I pushed Seth in after ash them couldn't get in myself. Ash had his hands full of stuff and no way of pushing Seth so when the lift stopped he couldn't get out in time. He ended up on the next floor with an old French bloke having to wheel Seth out and put him in the right way round and rearrange ash's stuff. Meanwhile I'd used the stairs and was wondering where they were. Having visions of them being stuck all night. Finally we got man, boy and stuff off the lift, at least one of them a little traumatized and it was soon bed time for boy and balcony time for grown ups as we tried in vain to finish the terrible wine and watched balloons float by.

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