street fighting man

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Our orbit on leaving Germany, took us through Luxembourg and back into France – specifically to Reims. I say to Reims, but actually just outside Reims. I say just outside Reims when I mean about 30 km away. Reims itself provides it’s own special problem. It is one of these confusing names that sounds nothing like the way it looks. To pronounce it, pinch the bridge of your nose, pull your fingers down blocking your nostrils and say “rence” very quickly. Your correspondent found this process far too complicated, so merely referred to it as “ the large city with the big cathedral about 30km away” – everyone knew where I meant.

The latest campsite welcomed us warmly with villagers burning tyres in the road to prevent us getting there, but we made it through unscathed. Cusco the chief spaniel, was rather excited as a river ran along the side of the site. Swimming is now nearly his favourite activity, coming a close second to absolutely anything to do with the tracking down, eating, tracking down again and eating again of food. He has become a master of sniffing out any form of munchies and has been seen training younger dogs on the ways of subterfuge to obtain extras.

Setting his sights on the river, he gave us practically no time to set up our pitch before dragging Wendy towards the gate, already planning an afternoon of splashing around in the water and cooling mud – for some reason he looks forward to it more than we do of the aftermath of sopping mud trailed throughout Claude. This time though he was thwarted as the river was too wide, deep, fast and strong, and the banks to the water were too steep for him to get to – or so we thought. We took our eyes off him for a mere moment and heard a splash as he somehow, accidentally of course, made it in!!!

That decided it for us, pausing only long enough for a couple of delicious homemade pizzas and for W to empty the local Carrefour, we left the next day and headed to Troyes about which we knew nothing.

Having visited Troyes we now know quite a lot about it – most importantly, it is a lovely, medieval town with amazingly preserved old town houses. Fantastic churches and cathedral and many, many bars and cafes lining the narrow streets. Crepes and galettes were consumed and local cidres drank by the gallon, but enough of my first breakfast there!!

As is our usual behaviour, we try to keep a low profile while visiting towns. Mainly so that we can go back to the ones we like, but also to respect the local citizens. Not this time dear readers, no. One of us got in to a fight. I will give you two clues and see if you can work out which of us got embroiled in street fighting – it wasn’t me nor was it Wendy!!! Yes, our mild mannered spaniel started scrapping with a white, husky type breed. That was worrying enough but then this dog’s much bigger and angrier brother came charging over and joined in – and what did little Cusco do ??? he started fighting with that one as well growling and snapping and biting and snarling !!! And guess what the cause of all this was – a tennis ball, one small, yellow tennis ball. To compound matters, the owner of the dogs came over after peace was restored and apologised for his dogs attacking, but there was one small problem with that – it was Cusco’s fault from start to finish!!!

We may not be invited back to Troyes very quickly.

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Comments

[Taffy]

Street fighting man
I have always wondered how to pronounce Reims but I fear in trying to follow your explicit instructions I nearly met my untimely demise! Keep up the good work. Entertaining as usual.